27 September, 2011

I swear, this feature might have actually worked.

Well, we'll see if this is the fourth false start for the morning. I really didn't have anything today so I went hunting for something to talk about and then I was going to talk shit about the Donnas but then I researched and found that my argument had no legs. Not only that but after consulting my list of future ex-girlfriends, I find that Donna F. (the bassist) is number twenty four. It's probably best not to piss her off when we haven't even been on our first date yet.
ANYhoo, to your left please note the Donnas video from 1999 for "Get Rid of That Girl". You see, that was going to be part of my argument in what was going to be our new recurring feature, "My 'What Happened?' Moment for the Week". You see, I was going to talk some shit about how cool the Donnas used to be (like in the video to the left) and then wonder (get ready) "What happened?", mainly in reference to them pulling some schlocky bullshit like covering the fucking "Safety Dance" on their last record.
I mean this whole weird metal revivalist thing they've been on for the past few years? You know what I have on in another tab right now? They're covering fucking Ratt, dude. Yeah. Ratt. "Round and Round" ass Ratt. Who the fuck does that? And that one single? "Don't Wait Up for Me"? Shit sounds like Motley Crüe, dog.
But here's why my argument has no legs: That video there? Yeah. The Donnas didn't write that song. Or any of the songs for that matter on their self-titled debut. They were straight up svengali'd. Listen to anything off of their second record, American Teenage Rock 'n' Roll Machine, where they wrote all their own songs and you'll hear what they were really after. And that shit was cool, too. Listen to Get Skintight. That was awesome. The Donnas we all know and love? The Donnas who broke big right after we got out of high school? The Donnas who turned twenty one and still spent the night? That shit was bomb, man, really. We needed those Donnas because we just had to sit through a period rife with huckster-clowns and molested-men playing seven-string guitars called the late 90s. That was not a good time to be a music fan. That was an even shittier time to have a car with no cassette deck in it.

"You just refuse to let that go, don't you?"
So thank fuck for the Donnas. Seriously. I spun the shit out of Turn 21 when I worked at the radio station.
And then 2004 came and I slept on Gold Medal. Sorry about that. I know I shouldn't have. It's just that I met She Who May Not Be Named in 2004 and we started doing that thing that most people would call dating but I remember as her playing a game of keep away with my balls sssooo I was kind of busy. I couldn't check in at the time to make sure no doofy bullshit was going down in Donnaland. Again, I dropped the ball, that was my bad and I apologize.
So, when 2007 reared it's head and I was busy navigating a job, school, a break up, (and thus) a move, and a new girlfriend, I wasn't paying attention to that either. In fact, I do not recall the Donnas crossing my mind once during that period. If you would've told me you were going to see the Donnas on any night of 2007, I would've been surprised to find out they were still alive. Seriously. And now that I hear what they did in 2007? No. Fuck no. These were not my Donnas.
But they never were "my" Donnas were they? I had to let them go.
Metaphorically, of course. It's not like I knew any of them.
But yeah, What happened? Nothing. This is just what they were always about. And so, my argument is moot.
And I'm pretty sure that Donna F. hates me now, so I'll just go ahead and cross her off the list.

Le sigh.

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