Girly

I just finished a practice of sorts with my Monday Night Band (MNB). We didn't actually play tonight, but we each brought in tunes that we thought may be suitable to expand out set list and had a listen to the bunch.

Well, I've had my heavy phases in the past... I did punk, I did speed metal. Lately I've listened to a fair bit of pop-ish stuff, as well as a lot of folk, country, and bluegrass. But I realized, as I was going through my CD collection, that I have almost nothing like I am playing with this band (Corrs, Dido, Texas, Sarah Mclaughlin). Still, I'm playing it. Willingly.

And, what's more, I'm liking it.

Since probably almost none of you have met them, I should just say that we are, at present, a four-piece: three lovely women on keyboards, guitar, and lead vocals, along with me on drums (waiting for Andy to join in on the bass), with all three of the instrumentalists doing backup vocals. These women are talented, and I have really enjoyed playing and singing with them, but clearly, we don't have a lot of testosterone in the room. At first, I didn't think it would be an issue.

But it's become a cause of concern for me. It started (or, at least, I realized it) when one of them suggested "I Love You, Always Forever" by Donna Lewis and I said, "I love that song" before I had a chance to stop myself. They didn't seem to notice, but I felt that something had changed. No longer would I be able to wear a Tragically Hip shirt at practice without doubting myself. No longer could I just glance over from my drums to my Extreme cd's for reassurance. I had crossed a line, and I don't know if I can go back.

And tonight it continued. I managed to pull Jessica Andrews (?!?) out of my own collection, thinking that some of her songs may fit what we're doing. The verdict, from the girls?

Too girly. Not quite what we're looking for.

I am the drummer. I am the man. I am the one who, should we end up gigging, will be carrying anything heavy. I am the one that no one expects to smell good, who should be covered in sweat by the end of a show. I hit things, and I make really, really loud noises. According to all stereotypes, I should show up drunk and in a foul mood and leave, if possible, more drunk and more foul.

So what in the world has happened to my taste in music?

I'm going to go listen to Ozzy now. If I'm not back in three days, send out the dogs to look for me... I'll probably be under a big stack of Christina Aguilera cd's...