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Originally Posted by dissention
Whatever floats your boat.  I don't take things too seriously, so I don't waste my time on understanding such trivial things. |
Lest you have the wrong idea, I don't take that kind of stuff seriously either... I simply enjoy it and find it fascinating.
Some folks would wonder why we waste any time at all talking to relative strangers, day in and day out, about some senior citizens who record pop music.
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Originally Posted by dissention
She eventually lost a lot of that ability and began to write songs that not so many people could indentify with, in my opinion. It actually began with Sisters of the Moon, worked it's way up to I Sing For the Sings and Welcome To the Room...Sara, and then just exploded with the odious offle that is Ghosts and Two Kinds of Love (hence my reference to '89).
Please spare me the arguments that you can relate to them, because you're a die-hard fan; you look for that kind of stuff.
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But, as I've said before, the flaw in your argument is the simple fact that I was NOT a die-hard fan the first time I heard "I Sing For The Things"... and 'Mirror' was only the second new Stevie solo album that was released in my early years as a fan, so the songs contained therein could have VERY easily turned me off of her, never to return again (as has happened over the years with many singers I previously "loved").
But I DID relate to songs like "I Sing For The Things" and "When I See You Again" and "Ghosts," even without being a decades-long diehard. And I didn't have to be a rich and famous straight woman in her early 40s to relate to them... I related to the very real longings, desires, fears, etc., that she was singing about. I related to trying to "just get through the day," and I related to depending on music and art to fill the emptiness I was feeling in my own life as I struggled with my sexual orientation and being ostracized by my peers.
I became a diehard
because of my love for those songs... not the other way around.
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Originally Posted by dissention
I don't agree with your interpretation of it, but we can just put more notches in our respective bedposts over that one instead of delving into it for 87 more pages as if it actually had some deep meaning.
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As with "Joan Of Arc," you don't agree with my interpretations of Stevie's songs, because you've got her in a little box that you never let her out of.
Nothing in life has any more meaning than that which we attribute to it.