According to L'il Red, number four -- and ONLY number four -- on any given CD in my car is the best. We are only allowed to listen to number four on loop, which means I'm constantly shuffling through my CDs after I. Just. Can't. Listen. To. This. One. Anymore.
But I'm actually not hating her number four preference that bad. One of these days I might try her system and see what a number six playlist looks like.
And, yes, YES!!! I'll do it before CDs go extinct. Shut up. Stop picking on our taste in music or access thereof. You're talking about two deaf girls rocking on the road (and yes, I know these are all old and cheesy). We don't care.
I've posted this video on my facebook and twitter accounts, but it deserves a second, third, and fourth view.
Once upon a time I was a "soloist" in my school's "Sign Language Chorus," which is funny for me to think about, because I was this kid who couldn't sign for shit. I signed everything initialized and often confused the heck out of native signers.
The people who coached me were hearing teachers, too, and I never understood the things they told me to do with my hands, like, "Don't use your pointy finger for 'you,' it's not pretty."
Or they would tell me to sign things backward, turning the lyric "strongest of hearts" into its' signed version: "heart stronger." And then tell me it was ASL grammar and made more sense... to them.
So for awhile there, I thought ASL was backward English and all I had to do to be a good signer was to reverse all my grammatical constructions while using my hands (until I took French in the seventh grade and finally understood the truth: anything not English is ass-backwards anyway).
I haven't performed ASL songs for more than ten years now. Mostly because of lack of opportunity, but also because of an acquired distaste for the genre.
For one thing, I've become far more proficient in the language since my soloist days, which led to meeting some gorgeous signers and realizing how crappy my own expressive command of the language is after all. But that realization is also paired with recognizing that a lot of gorgeous signers are also really crappy interpreters.
When you watch signed interpretations of songs, a number of things will happen:
You get far too invested in the music itself. The trouble is, chaining yourself to sound makes you lose visual meaning. You may be mouthing the words or jiggling your booty to the beat, but your signs? Fuck it all.
You get lost in the ASL. For deafies who like music, this is a real irritant. We want to know what's being said; we'll figure out what it means ourselves, thank you. There's one other video on YouTube of this same song by someone who is actually a pretty beautiful signer, but instead of the lyric "Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting in the wind..." the ASL that comes across is "Question -- do you feel lonely, searching for something missing?" Hello? Total loss of imagery, total loss of commitment to the song as it was intended.
You make interpreting mistakes. This is probably the biggest challenge for people who want to turn music visual. I've seen emo, disillusioned songs turned into hopeful and dreamy signed interpretations. I've seen double-entendres signed literally, losing more than half the fun. And people who use PSE or other forms of modalities in a misguided attempt to stay more faithful to the lyrics aren't really song interpreting. They're just telling you what the words are.
This one, however, does none of the above. It's his own interpretation of Katy Perry's "Firework," to be sure, but it's apparent he took the time to decide how to convey the imagery and the sentiment while staying absolutely visually clear.
Plus, he does one of my favorite things ever -- English lyrics are provided in caption form, so if you're a deaf signer like me, you get to enjoy both his ASL and the lyrics as they're sung.
...includes being able to hit that sexy center button on my iPod and jam as I get ready for the day.
Alas, my left ear is dead and awaiting some kind of weird biotechnological resurrection via CI activation in 3 weeks, and my right ear is waiting for an earmold. So what do I do to torture myself in the meantime?
I compile a playlist, dammit.
I only wish I could include here my current obsession, U2's "Moment of Surrender" Some people say it's about drug addiction (read lyrics here). It's about something totally different for me -- where I am in my head and in my life right now. Helps that it's a gorgeous, albeit long, rock ballad-ish type siren that I find myself swaying to in the kitchen as I cook -- "I tied myself with wire to let the horses run free, playing with the fire until the fire played with me" -- Swoon.
P.S. Some people will say there's a queer sort of irony in happily-deaf girl fantasizing about listening to music again. I agree, but more importantly, do I give a flying squirrel? Ha. No I don't. So take that, shove it up the bodily orifice of your choice, and rock out with me, mmkay?
P.P.S. I just noticed there's no Madonna on this playlist. What the hell? Wow. I really am changing. Cooool.
I could do without 90% of the leg swinging/pelvic-thrusting and there's a split-second of a lollipop that makes me wanna barf, but otherwise I liked this video of Womanizer in ASL... And that's saying a lot, because usually I can't stand sign interpretations of songs.
(Love the different ways he signs the word "womanizer.")
I'm having one of those moments -- y'know when you're working or doing whatever, and the music is in the background and all of a sudden a song comes on that perfectly expresses what you're experiencing or feeling right then? Yeah.
While gathering links for my previous post, I came across this video (NSFW again, I'm on a nude kick, I guess), thanks to Reverse Cowgirl's gushing.
It's called "Headache," and is clearly working off the Venus de Milo trope. It's serenely beautiful and yet a little disturbing.
Or maybe that's just me -- I really, really, really can't stand the idea of feet touching me.
But anyway, it's mesmerizing. And long. I think it's on a loop or something.
I can just imagine this piece projected on the wall, playing endlessly at some artsy fartsy event and annoying the hell out of people 'cause they're trying not to look at the boobs or where the hands and feet are going... or going batshit every time the strings hit that high tweening note.
I thought about not linking to this just because the woman who drew my attention to it gives credit to Perez Hilton, of all people. But Abbie deserves the props anyway because not only did she blog it, she captioned it. And dammit, it IS worth watching!
Which was absolutely necessary because the song being signed and the song being sung are, as is usually the case when interpreting between languages, not quite the same. Which is why I didn't quite like the look of this video until about 1:14... and then went, "Ooh, pretty colors!"
(psst: Isn't it starting to feel like whenever you see deafies on TV, it's the same deafies over and over again?)
My sister used to tell me that her friends always told her her taste in music had been ruined by having a deaf older idol sister.
Well, considering that my criteria for songs is 1) a loud female voice 2) easily decipherable lyrics 3) a catchy beat, I guess the opportunity for erroneous desire is there. But who the hell cares?
Today, the auditory poison of choice for this unreliable (and, um, koff-koff DEAF) listener is:
