Wish You Could Touch Me With The Colors Of Your Life: "Invisible"
As I've hopefully made clear, I'm really into things that seem kind of bright and upbeat but in fact are DARK and TWISTED and MORBID. The contrast is just really zesty to me.
One of my favorite songs of this genre is one I discovered on the special edition version of Daryl Hall and John Oates, the debut album of Daryl Hall and John Oates (which as you may recall I was very deep into for a while there).
(Previously on In Bed with Amy Wilson: "You see, our lives are like the ice inside this paper cup - we all start out with a job to do, then age and fade away till we are swallowed up.")
And here's another one, which is somewhat less technically good of a song, but which I was SUPER into when it first came out and was reminded of just the other day.
Hey here's a totally non-creepy, upbeat, bright thing to say:
If I was invisible. . .then I could just watch you in your room!
The song: Clay Aiken, "Invisible"; 2003
Oh God this song is total crap. But it's FUN crap, which is redeeming.
And it's made even MORE fun by the thought, which I firmly believe, that Clay Aiken -- that sweet weirdo -- has no idea that the words he is singing are completely stalker-y.
(This is, after all, a man who once said that if he could have dinner with any three people living or dead, they would be Jimmy Carter, Mr. Rogers, and Jesus.
So, either this innocent-guy act goes REAL deep -- like REAL deep and Clay Aiken is a brilliant performance artist -- or he really is this much of a doofus.)
This song also has a beautiful example of an unclear antecedent in I would be the smartest man if I was invisible -- wait, I ALREADY AM.
Ugh I just love it. I just love it all.
But really this post is an elaborate ruse designed to highlight that Hall & Oates song I referenced at the beginning, "Ice".
Which really genuinely has become one of my favorite songs. When I hear that drum drop in at the beginning my heart quickens.
And what's really great about this song, that I don't know that I realized at the time I first posted it, is that it's similar to "We Just Disagree", the first song I ever wrote about here. In that they are both seemingly first-conversation-after-the-break-up songs.
But while "We Just Disagree" is maddeningly level-headed, "Ice" is just INSANE:
"Don't worry about me in the aftermath of our breakup sweetie, because you see I've got it all figured out and the answer is casual nihilism!"
So I guess what I am saying is -- call me, Daryl Hall!