(so I’d been going on a bit about how I think OKGo’s a smart/funny band, well read it and weep – what vocabulary, honest! So much substance behind the style. I also love them b/c I sortof knew them when they were uncool, which makes me *feel* cool. Anyway, read the essay, you will learn some stuff. )
Ladies, there are a million well-known reasons why you shouldn’t date a musician. We’re self-obsessed, we’re flaky, we’re hot-tempered, we’re unreliable, and we’re always broke, so you’ll have to pay for everything. We’re imperious, impenetrable, and impractical, and, let’s face it ? we ain’t usually the cleanest of folk. Nonetheless, you keep falling for us. The only reason I can surmise is this: our faults are of exactly the type that get mistaken for virtues in the confusing tumult of love. Our brand of crazy is precisely the kind that can appear sexy under the weird lights of romance.
Let’s say you meet a cute guy, for instance. He’s a little cocky, but you say you like some confidence in a man. He’s a bit scatterbrained, but you think of it as creative. He’s manic, but you call it passion. Perhaps he could shampoo a little more often; you say you like’em on the wild side. These charitable evaluations are the currency of love ? they’re how you’re supposed to feel when you’re falling for someone ? but ladies, I’m warning you: you’ve got to stay away from the musicians.
The real reason we’re unlovable has nothing to do with our big mouths or big egos. In fact, it’s not a matter of emotional compatibility at all; it’s a simple matter of practicality. We want precisely what you do not. You want a companion; we want to take our guitars and disappear into the gaping maw of the country. You want someone to eat meals with, someone to tell jokes to, someone to kiss. We want to be in a van somewhere between Minneapolis and Seattle, hopped up on Red Bull at four in the morning and speeding like hell to make it to the club by tomorrow afternoon. We run on endless newness, endless mania, and endless travel.
But wait, you say. The particular musician you are currently butterfly-stomached about doesn’t go on tour; he’s in high school, and his band has never played anything but house parties. He likes languid Sunday afternoons together even more than you do, and he’s the one who’s always perched and waiting at your locker. Rock n’ roll is just something he does for fun. Ladies, don’t be fooled! A shark in a cage is still a shark! The young Jeckyl of your fancy may not know the Hyde inside him, but it’s there nonetheless.
The longer you spend with a musician, the more you will come to know the anxious discontentment at his core. If you are lucky, he will have great success, be swept off into the tempest of the music industry, and he will never bother you again. In most cases, though, you will find your heart tied to someone who is terminally unsatisfied ? someone who cannot ever get what he wants from the world. He will toil endlessly and fruitlessly at song after song, idea after idea, show after show. The only thing that could possibly fulfill him is the same success that would ruin your relationship. And even then, he would want more. Like I said, he wants exactly what you do not.
On top of it all, you’re going to have lie to him, and maybe even to yourself. You’ll have to tell him his band is good. You and I both know it’s not true. Do you really want a boyfriend you have to lie to?
Listen, I know that creative people are sexy, and I know it’s easy to fall for people with talent. But ladies, there are plenty of talented writers and engineers and architects out there. I’m telling you, for your own good: stay away from the musicians.