The Village Voice
A few months ago I heard a rather unorthodox info speech on vocal polyps which can devastate a voice. To the best of my recollection, the causes were overuse and abuse. As someone who just finished a rather restless speech season while still being one of the most loquacious people I know, the chronically sore throat antibiotics haven't killed a month later and the voice that has been brittle and cracking since Gainesville seem daunting symptoms. A rousing chorus of ballads from "Wicked" while doing laundry about a week ago reveals that my range and musicality are dead in their tracks. Now I've never exactly aspired to a career in musical theater, but I know that those are the signs of the problem manifest in a singer. This might be preemptive, or a tad psychosomatic, but the idea of a six week self-imposed silence with no promise of recovery is a bit too much to bear. ET knew the speaker before her voice went, and she knew Mrs. Grimes too, so at this point any alternate explanation, be it strep, gonorrhea (haha, j/k), or even mono, seems preferable.
On a brighter note, I've just discovered the rather life changing Panic! At The Disco. To be fair, ET didn't so much "discover" P!ATD as she burned her brother's girlfriend's copy after downloading the single after Kady played it in the van. And to be fair, ET was about as contemporary in this epiphany as when she found the Postal Service CD in her car while cleaning it out after wrecking it into a ditch and listening to and falling in love with the "Give Up" album almost a year after it was burned for her. But still, fresh, evocative, and a little profound music is a welcome relief. After all, not to embarass myself anymore than necessary but "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" has such utterly delicious tie ins to some of my authorship that it just resonates as one of those songs that feel written for my escapist narratives.
posted by EmilyPrice @ 3:35 PM
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