AIMEE

It's not going to stop
It's not going to stop
It's not going to stop
'Til you wise up

I'd forgotten I had a big sister, that is until the other day when I put on the soundtrack to 'Magnolia' by Aimee Mann and remembered she'd been there all along, waiting for me to come back and hang out with her.

Some voices are so familiar to me these days that it feels like returning home to family when I put on the records of those select few special artists, including Mann who have consistently provided me with a soundtrack through the good times and the bad.

Re-acquainting myself with 'Magnolia' I was struck by a few of the songs in particular and was amazed just how timeless and fresh they still sound, although Mann always seems to me like she's forever frozen in that time of late 90s alternative rock. I could almost imagine her like a miniature ballerina in a musical jewellery box except she's wearing denim jeans and a leather jacket and playing her Gibson J-45. Now I'm off on a tangent, daydreaming about an Aimee Mann music box that plays 'Wise Up' with its musical prongs and thinking how you could have a music box for all the iconic musicians throughout history: Beethoven sat playing his fourth piano concerto in the lavish home of his patron Prince Franz Joseph von Lobkowitz, The Beatles at the Cavern, Sinatra at the Sands, Prince at the Miami Super Bowl etc etc

She's been a long time on the phone
Courtin' disaster in an undertone
She's feelin' nostalgic
And feelin' that fall
How could anyone ever fight it?
Who could ever expect to fight it
When she builds that wall

So what is it about Aimee Mann that gives me big sister vibes exactly? Thinking about it now, she's always sounded like the regretful voice of wisdom through experience and someone who desperately wants others to avoid the pitfalls of her own mistakes. She has that late night, truth-seeking, back porch type of clarity combined with her own unique, bummed out, strung out musical vibes that seem to offer resolute hope through all the trials and tribulations of navigating a human life. She is both the hangover and the hangover cure in one and if you want some mopey, apathetic rock ballads that don't bring you crashing down too hard then Aimee is the one to turn to. She offers the shelter from the storm that Dylan sang about whilst she sits alongside Tom Waits and all the other nighthawks in the diner, all the while sounding like Joni Mitchell up in Laurel Canyon, except on valium. She is the daughter of all those crazy hippies of the 60s with their broken dreams of paradise and the questionable hedonism that resulted in many broken homes and subsequent addiction issues.

It also says a lot about the substance of Mann's songs that director Paul Thomas Anderson wrote the screenplay of 'Magnolia' (1999) inspired by them and used each one like a greek chorus throughout his Altman-like narrative tapestry of human characters struggling in San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles. 'Build That Wall', 'Deathly', 'Save Me' and 'Wise Up' all deal with the emotional/psychological scars from past experiences that can prevent us from moving toward more positive outcomes in relationships and in life. Anyone who has seen the film will remember clearly the emotional climax of the film where a montage of all of the central characters find themselves in their respective personal hell realms singing along to 'Wise Up' with Aimee's wine glass voice acting as the continuity between each contrasting scene. The song itself acts as a sort of communal prayer for this ensemble in crisis.

Now that I've met you
Would you object to
Never seeing each other again
'Cause I can't afford to
Climb aboard you
No one's got that much ego to spend

So don't work your stuff
Because I've got troubles enough
No, don't pick on me
When one act of kindness could be
Deathly
Deathly
Deathly

It was apt that the Canadian cartoonist, Seth (famous for his series 'Palookaville') would provide the album art for Mann's 2002 'Lost In Space' album where it became clear the emotional realm the artist inhabits with her music fits perfectly with those type of existential 'graphic novels' such as 'Ghost World', 'It's A Good Life If You Don't Weaken' and 'Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid On Earth' which were very much in vogue in the 90s and early 00s. I almost wish there was an animated musical of Mann's music that could do justice to this perfect symbiosis of forms. Perhaps it could be called 'Invisible Ink' or 'Save Me'. Actually, I wrote a Mann inspired short story for DR entitled 'I've Had It' back in December 1st, 2022 which captured some part of a feeling that she inspires in me.

https://digital-renegade.ghost.io/ive-had-it/?ref=digital-renegade-newsletter

You look like
A perfect fit
For a girl in need
Of a tourniquet

But can you save me?
Why don't you save me?
If you could save me

From the ranks of the freaks that suspect
They could never love anyone

There are so many Mann songs that I have developed a deep personal affection for over the years but if forced to choose half a dozen that I would whisk away to a rainy desert island with me then it would have to be, 'Stupid Thing', 'Build That Wall', 'Deathly', 'Wise Up', 'Save Me' and 'Invisible Ink'.

My big sister Aimee has never failed to be there for me with songs for all morose occasions including heartbreak, loss and self-despair and perhaps even more surprisingly, Christmas, where she delivered one of the more unique festive offerings of that holiday genre, kind of like a Grinchy female muse meets Patti Smith (or is that the same thing?)

Now I'm thinking about that music box again. Could be the perfect Christmas present. I know it's only June but it feels like winter - a seasonal contradiction that I would suggest Aimee often sings the emotional equivalent of in her songs, like having your heart broken on a sunny day.