humble folks without temptation.

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17 september 1997

10:46 p.m.

Dear diary, I broke down and bought the latest Prodigy album. Despite the fact that it tops Tower Records' best-seller list. Despite the fact that they've had at least two hit videos on MTV. Despite the fact that it sounds nothing like the band's early work. I harp on it often enough -- I hate falling in step with trends and fads. But I guess I'm just a sucker for catchy hooks and frisky beats. I soothe my ego (as no doubt most reluctant sheep do) with the fact that I listened to Prodigy back when they were essentially jumpy elevator music. I can't remember the name of the album, but the band's older stuff will always take me back to a specific moment: A midnight drive on a humid night with an old boyfriend, holding the CD player so it wouldn't skip. An empty lot somewhere in Wahiawa, a sky full of stars, and the thick scent of the Body Shop's "Dewberry" (which I unfortunately wore in great excess back then, so it's just as well they discontinued it). Trying to make out in bucket seats over a very unfriendly gearshift, too nervous to suggest getting out... or in back. Geez, that must have been 1991, maybe 1992. Back when they were just Prodigy, not The Prodigy (a Pumpkin-esque change probably made just to match the domain name they snapped up). Back when I was just getting out of my Death Black Goth phase (and into my merely Death Black phase). My taste in perfume was the least of my problems. An odd thought... whatever happened to Sisters of Mercy? I'm having trouble focusing here; I can't stop moving. It's hard to listen to Prodigy without getting an overpowering urge to dance. Part of me knows this album is carefully engineered to be that way, but I'm enjoying it anyway. You know... I bought it on Saturday, and have probably listened to the whole thing through twenty times already. I even put it on a tape to play on my car, essentially making it the soundtrack of my week. It's been a while since I've come across anything I can stand through such repetition. The few other car tapes I've made probably outline most of the others -- Moodswing's cheesy debut album, Sublime's "40 oz. to Freedom," TMBG's "Lincoln," Radiohead's "Pablo Honey," Robert Miles, and the soundtrack to "The Piano." Oh all right, I've got a couple of "80s Flashback" compilations too. Sue me. One thing's for sure: I'm heading into another music phase. I came this close to buying both Jewel and Fiona Apple (and I hate that "Shadowboxer" song). If I know what's good for me, I better hide my credit cards. There's going to be a South Park marathon on Friday... which will probably make that night about as productive as tonight was. (What could I do? Now they show it at eight and ten!) I was supposed to read the new Weekly. I was supposed to do some laundry. I was supposed to clean out the fridge (only yesterday I threw out milk -- or should I say cheese? -- dated August 6th). I was supposed to write a three-page self-critique. Damn. I really do have to write the why-I-suck essay. Fortunately, that kind of stuff comes easily. Tip for other professional students: If you ever think about taking an EDEA course to fulfill an upper-division requirement, don't. Easy 'A' sure... but it'll rot your brain.