happy father's day, sad dads

“You could’ve been a legend/ But you became a father/ That’s what you are today/ That’s what you are today.”

-The National, “Slipping Husband”

I’ve met many a Sad Dad in my day. You know the story. The kid is on another coast, the ex-wife is crazy and maybe trying to kill him, and all he wants is to be with the kid, but he can’t be within 100 miles of his ex-wife...

Wait. You don’t know the story? Oh, then you clearly don’t hang out in City of Fairfax bars as much as I do. Good for you.

There’s a saying that goes, “Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a Dad!” I find this statement to be flawed. Five-year-olds can’t be fathers. I can’t be a father. More than half the population of the world can’t be a father.

If I were in charge of the world, I’d change this saying to, “Any reproductively virile man can be a father, but it takes a real rock star to sing songs about how he’s doing a shitty job at it.” Here are my favorite songs from the point of view of sad, absent fathers.

4. Everclear- “Annabella’s Song”

If you like thinking about punk rock dads as much as I do, then first of all, you should check out this documentary, The Other F Word. Art Alexakis’ appearance in this film especially stands out, because, uhm, his childhood was basically Kite Runner for white people?!

“Annabella’s Song” is your typical Sad Dad anthem. He is never there, and then he expects you to understand! “You know I’m never home/ I’m always miles and miles away...Call you on the telephone/ You will not talk to me/ Yeah you don’t understand/ You are my everything.”

Oh, please. I never had an absent father, but I have listened to “Father of Mine,” so I basically know what it’s all about. Art, your approach to fathering sounds just about as confusing as sending a birthday card with a 5 dollar bill. She never understood you then, and I guess she never will.

3. Eminem - “Hailie’s Song”

What is the best way to start off a song to your toddler daughter to try and prove that you are a loving, devoted, mature father? How about “Yo, I can’t sing but/ I feel like fuckin’ singin’/ I wanna fuckin’ sing”? Yeah, that’ll do the trick.

Do me a favor, Hailie. i know you are a big girl now, but please promise me not to listen to “Kim.” Not even if you are trying to get pumped up before a big volleyball match. Not even if your mom grounds you and is being a total bitch. Okay? Okay.

2. Ben Folds - “Gracie”

Arguably the least sad of the Sad Dads, this song is more wistful than anything. He loves his baby girl and doesn’t want her to grow up. And of all the Sad Dads, he is arguably doing the best job. Check out this review Gracie wrote of her dad’s album at age 13. You’re 13, Gracie! You aren’t supposed to like anything, especially your dad!!

1. The Ataris - “The Saddest Song”

First of all, check out how fuckin’ punk rock that 4 year old girl in the video is! If I dressed like that at age 4, man, I really would have had a leg up on the world. But I guess having a real dad, not an absent one who sings in a band and occasionally showers you with gifts from Hot Topic Baby, has its downfalls.

This song is particularly eye-roll inducing for a multitude of reasons. First of all, the title. Second of all, our hero Kris Roe (what a name) begins by dramatically declaring, “I know what it’s like growing up without a father in your life.” With a name like Kris, I can’t help but wonder whether he ever had a father to begin with, or was just immaculately conceived by a valley girl living in a trailer park.

But I digress. If you know what it’s like growing up without a father in your life, and that is such a bad thing, why continue the cycle?

Oh, right. Because you’re in a mildly successful, mediocre punk band. That sounds like a good enough reason.

Roe continues with the heart-wrenching lyrics, “So I’ll pretend, I’m doing all I can/ And hope someday you find it in your heart/ To understand why I’m not around/ And forgive me for not being in your life.”

Oh, Kris Roe. Don’t you know that the first step to pretending that you care is not to tell everyone that you’re pretending? That’s the first rule of Absent Father’s Club.

But it looks like you have the second rule down: Make empty promises. The song ends with Roe assuring his daughter, “I will make it up to you.”

So, my dear absent dads, while you are alone punishing a 12-pack of Coors Light tonight, maybe pick up that old guitar and write a heavy-handed song for that daughter of yours that never wants to see you again. It won’t make her any less mad at you, but it might make you some money.

the lesser-known call me maybes

From what I understand, Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” was some sort of bizarre cultural phenomenon. Our zeitgeist, if you will. No song, up until that point, had truly captured the ballsy essence of exchanging your telephone number with a stranger. And from it sprung tribute videos. Sing-along videos. Videos that reminded me that I wouldn’t fit in with Katy Perry’s group of friends.

But I’d beg to differ that it’s one-of-a-kind. I think that there are other great digit-getting tunes, just with much narrower audiences.

For the White Trash

Everclear - “Unemployed Boyfriend”

Most songs about getting someone’s digits take place somewhere exotic and sexy like a club or a bar. But that’s just not real life. Where does this particular ballad take place? The unemployment line.

Did you major in Social Work? Then this song is not for you!

Our heroine, in an (extremely long) answering machine message to her bff Peggy, tells us the story of waiting in line for her “loser of a case worker,” when a total stranger (played by Art Alexakis) walks in and showers her with flattery she’s never received before.

His compliments are certainly unique: “Those blond streaks, they look so pretty in your black hair/You look cool and alternative with that disaffected stare.” Yes. Unemployment is cool.

His promises go far. A bit too far: “Hey you can be with me/Yeah 'cause I just might be the one/Who will treat you like you're perfect/Who will always make you come.”

If I were her, I’d be thinking, whoa there, guy in the unemployment line, I know we are both in the unemployment line right now, but my cousin’s a lawyer, and I hear that sexual harassment lawsuits can really pay off...

But Art doesn’t stop there! “This is gonna sound a little bit out there/This is gonna sound a little insane/I keep having the same dream/You will be the mother of my children someday.”

O_o. But how does our heroine sum it up to Peggy in her phone message? “Can you believe he said that to me? To me, of all people! I can't even remember the last time a guy took me out on a date and actually paid for it!”

Goddammit, Rhonda, if you weren’t trying to go to Red Lobster all the time, maybe I could afford it!

For the LGBT and Angst-ridden

Tegan and Sara - “My Number”

Ugh. How much emotional attachment can you really assign to giving a stranger your telephone number? You just order them a drink at Escafe--but be careful about gender norms--not something too girly, not something too manly, maybe a whiskey sour? And then you take out your eyeliner--but do you really want to be perceived as the kind of person who wears eyeliner? Or a pen, go with a pen, if you have one. And then you write your number on the napkin wrapping their drink before you hand it to them. But be careful to put little dots between the groups of digits, not dashes, dashes are heteronormative...

I mean, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to Escafe.

But the Quins make the whole number exchange process personal. Very personal. Crucial. A matter of life and death.

“If I gave you my number/Would it still be the same/If I saved you from drowning/Promise me you'll never go away.”

Whoa. Maybe save all of that nonsense for the second date. Beyond that, we get some kind of weird symbolism that I don’t get. I don’t even think they do. It kind of reminds me of my poetry journal from junior year of high school. EVERYTHING represents EVERYTHING, duh!

“Closed down the last local zoo/I'm gonna win the endless war/Over who kills the last koala bear/And who in death will love him more...”

Blah. Koalas are mean, anyways.

For the Manic Depressive

Passion Pit - “I’ve Got Your Number”

Michael Angelakos begins as he usually does, for better or worse, by defining his emotional state. As usual, he’s feeling fragile: “I've always felt so scared of all this needing/Everyone that I've met has been somewhat mistreated/That's how it feels when you know that something's wrong.”

Waah. But then! A trite simile! “Then you came along like a swan off of the lake/You flew across my eyes and out into space.”

What to do with this new person?! Time for important decisions! “If there's just one thing you got to remember/Is to write down your name and your phone number/That way I'll have it and we'll make something out of this mess.”

“This mess” is usually how I refer to meeting potential future mates. But hey, ladies, you gotta give it to him. At least he’s being honest.

Things quickly proceed from casual to out of hand as we enter the chorus. It had to happen sometime. “Have you seen me cry/Tears like diamonds/Down and down they fly...”

Oh god. Settle down. You just MET this person. You’re not crying. Who’s crying? Am I crying? Do you see me crying? DO YOU SEE ME FUCKING CRYING?

Oh, and here is the only relevant video regarding “Call Me Maybe.” You’re welcome.

the 7 deadly sins of relient k

7. Thou Shalt Not Fake Your Own Suicide

It might seem like the only option right now, Matt Thiessen, but faking your own suicide is never the answer.

While the book of Leviticus does not specifically prohibit faking your own suicide, I’m pretty sure that doing so is almost as bad as having relations with a menstruating woman (which it does specifically prohibit). In an interview with Jesus Freak Hideout (Really.), Thiessen mentions that at first, his bandmate’s mom was concerned that the song was too controversial. But ultimately, they decided, whatever, Christian rock fans are cool, they’ll understand.

6. Thou Shalt Not Say You Are Wasting 10 Seconds Of My Life But In Actuality Waste 12

Just, why.

5. Thou Shalt Not Bring Your Cell Phone To Six Flags

Because you’ll lose it in the lake beneath the Batman ride, duh! Wasn’t that worth writing a song about?!

As a wise friend of mine once stated upon watching a youth group attempt to steal a street sign, “Poor Christian kids. They are so confused about how to have fun.”

4. Thou Shalt Not Cheat On Your Super Cute DJ Girlfriend

As anyone can tell you, Matt Thiessen dated an Atlanta alternative rock DJ (does dating the guy from a “Christian Punk” band improve your cred or remove it entirely?) and then proposed to her and then cheated on her and then got dumped by her and then wrote an entire album about her. Duh. It’s common knowledge.

On this track, Thiessen really extended his hardcore reach by calling upon his friend from Underoath (Really. Underoath.) to help him capture just how raw and screamo the whole ordeal was. The desert imagery starts off strong with mention of “dying of thirst” and “chalk on his tongue.” Man. Who knew saving it for marriage could be so...dry?!

3. Thou Shalt Not Compare Yourself To John Cusack

This is John Cusack.

This is you.

2. Thou Shalt Not Sell Your Books To Buy Tickets to Dave Matthews Band

As a UVA alum, this one cuts deep. There is no book in the world upon which I’d wish this fate. Not even my books for Death and Dying. Or Slavic Folklore.

1. Thou Shalt Not Write A Song About Marilyn Manson Eating Your Girlfriend

I’m pretty sure you’d be better off getting like seven abortions.

my least favorite facebook friends

We all want to defriend you, but we also know that Facebook is the only real thing you have left.

I'd tell you that I was worried that you may be giving Cynthia a complex, but let's be real here. Cynthia can't read.

You are the Facebook friend who cried wolf. When your mom dies, don’t expect anyone to notice.

There are best friends, and then there are the people you are supposed to marry. “Marrying my best friend” makes it sound like you are approaching 30 and therefore going through with the pact you made with your gay friend in middle school, stating that if you were both single when you were 30, you’d get married. If THAT is the case, then congrats actually, and I bet those honeymoon pics will be fab.

Yeah, you do.

Jessie can probably kick your ass.

Sorry, world.

5 reasons that it’s okay you’re single on valentine’s day (via 90’s songs)

Weezer - “No One Else”

Rivers Cuomo, the Don Juan of the 90’s, and clearly an enlightened member of Feminism Is For Everyone, proclaims: “I want a girl who will laugh for no one else/ When I'm away she puts her makeup on the shelf/ When I'm away she never leaves the house/ I want a girl who laughs for no one else.” Nice.

What happens to girls who date Rivers Cuomo? Well, in one relevant case study, they were driven to insanity and then dumped Rivers Cuomo. Next, they started dating Elliott Smith, expressing their newly instated hatred of men by stabbing him to death. Oh, they say he killed himself? Riiiiiiiiight.


Tracy Chapman - “Fast Car”

The song starts off as an idealistic tune about working-class people pulling themselves up by their bootstraps. The chorus evokes a surreal, I-feel-so-alive feeling before everything goes awry.

But oh, how it goes awry. And not in some kind of sexy, drugged-out way. Things go awry in the falling-out of-love, that’s-just-life, my-mom-and-dad-probably-loved-each-other-once kind of way.

Says Chapman at the end of the nearly 5-minute saga: “You got a fast car/ And I got a job that pays all our bills/ You stay out drinking late at the bar/ See more of your friends than you do of your kids...So take your fast car and keep on driving."

All I can say is all Eminem could say at the end of “Stan”: DAMN.


Third Eye Blind - “Losing A Whole Year”

So, you’re Vanessa Carlton. You’ve done the whole anorexic ballerina thing, you went to Columbia and majored in English and bisexuality, you made a song that was perfect for Kay Jewelers commercials and then decided to take a turn for the Alanis on your next few albums...so now what? What is a girl to do when she’s done it all in life?

You do Stephan Jenkins.

I understand that the timeline is completely off here, but I like to think that Stephan Jenkins traveled back in time after dating Vanessa Carlton just to write “Losing A Whole Year.” Who knows, maybe the song title is meant to be taken literally once you account for travel time.

It’s a song about a poor little rich girl who wants to meet a dark, tortured soul (and as I am writing this I am realizing that I am simultaneously writing a summary of 50 Shades of Grey.)

“Rich daddy left you with a parachute/ Your voice sounds like money and your face is cute/ But your daddy left you with no love/ Now you touch everything with a velvet glove.”

Ugh. Always with the daddy issues. Am I the only girl whose father ever loved her? In the 90’s, maybe the answer is yes.

Jenkins continues: “Now you wanna try your life of sin/ You wanna be down with the down and in/ Always copping my truths/ I kinda get the feeling like I’m being used.”

Get used to it, Stephan. Girls are going to seek you out as a member of the “down and in” for the brief remainder of your life.


American Hi-Fi - “Flavor of the Weak”

The song opens with strong imagery: “She paints her nails and she don't know/ He's got her best friend on the phone.” Oh SHIT. This guy has clearly never heard of GIRL CODE. But it only gets worse.

The only thing he gives to her: His dirty clothes

His political views: Too stoned

His hobbies: Nintendo

His interior decorations: Posters of all the girls he wished she was and pictures of all the girls he loved before

I would say that she should get back at him by dating HIS best friend, but let’s be real here, we can all infer that his best friend is probably just as worthless.


The Offspring - Entire discography

This band really shows the true meaning of what it is to be in a relation-SHIT (pardon the Dane Cook reference. I had to.)

Whether you are begging your significant other to get off their ass and get a job (“Why Don’t You Get A Job”), wishing your girl hadn’t had seven shots of Jager and hooked up with another guy (“Spare Me The Details”), enduring a girl who moans about abandonment issues on the second date (“She’s Got Issues”), having a girl blow you off mercilessly only to take her back and make her dessert (“Self Esteem”), or raising kids while your babydaddy is out trying to tap every girl he knows (“Hit That”), The Offspring covers it all.

So, go listen to The Offspring on Spotify, and forget about your sad plight as a single person. You don’t need anyone. You do you.

Maybe listen to a little Tweet while you’re at it, too.

impotent male anger: women, objectification, and ass-kicking

Okay, so maybe chivalry is dead. But if it is in fact dead, not-so-gentle-men, I should hope that your dumbass notion of “fighting for your girl” is dead, too.

Boys, in the clever words of the lovely (and in fact, gay?!) 1960’s pop star Leslie Gore, YOU DON'T OWN US. So stop trying to throw down with other dudes over us as if you do.

Now, I'd be lying if I said that the idea of a guy getting all fired up and bloody isn't a tad swoon-worthy. In theory. But in practice, when you really think about the psychology behind it, it's pretty fucked up. The idea that your fists can win our affection is just so Chris Brown. Additionally, many of us are not huge fans of face-mangling. Most girls would not agree with Robin Scherbatsky's mantra of "If you're missing your teeth, I'm missing my pants." Especially not me.

I like to think that in our modern age, it is no longer acceptable to view women as your property you's a-tryin to proteck wif yer second amenment rights. I can think of many reasons why throwing punches over a girl is sexist, irrational, and just a plain bad idea.

Take Summer’s reaction in (500) Days of Summer to Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character punching another dude as an example. JGL claims to be “defending her honor.” (Whatever.) But if you look closely, his rage is actually fueled by a DB who keeps repeating “I can’t believe that guy is your boyfriend.” So, in fact, he is just trying to defend his own honor. And this ultimately becomes a turning point in their relationship (for the worse).

Although it is my Good Luck Beer Pong Anthem and I have played it 101 times on iTunes alone, I would be remiss not to mention Eve 6’s “Think Twice” in this rant. In the chorus, Max Collins simply threatens in Meathead that if another dude comes near his girlfriend, they’ll be sorry: “Think twice before you touch my girl/ Come around I’ll let you feel the burn.” Oooh, I’m scared. Are you really gonna let me “feel the burn,” ginger?

I think the perfect music video to this absurd proclamation (instead of the real video of him hitting himself in the face) would be clips from the Eric Visits Again episode of Undeclared. Jason Segel’s character has just learned that his girlfriend cheated on him, and he is on a ridiculous, psychotic man-hunt to find the kid she did it with and “beat him up so bad.” Unlike Eve 6, this scene does not take itself seriously. Boys, when you make comments about messing up other dudes, that scene shows how comically insane you look.

Worse yet than Eve 6’s little display of raw male emotion is the entire musical career of the band Stroke 9. The band had two singles: “Kick Some Ass” and “Little Black Backpack.” The former declares: “If you put your hands upon her, you’re a goner.” The latter claims, “Don’t wanna tango with you, I’d rather tangle with him/ I think I’m gonna bash his head in.” There was an important lesson to be learned on that day in 2002. A band cannot build their career on the dreams of ass-kicking alone. Stroke 9 learned this lesson the hard way. Have you ever even heard of Stroke 9?

Of course, there are situations where an ass-whopping is in order, but they don’t come up as frequently as one might think. On the OC, Ryan Atwood rightfully chooses to FUCK Trey (his brother) UP when he learns that, while on drugs, Trey attempted to rape Marissa (his girlfriend).

Even under these extreme circumstances, we soon realize that throwing punches might have been the wrong choice, especially since Trey just got out of prison and what not. Beefed up from fighting his prison bitches, Trey is soon dominating at this fight to the death. And then out of nowhere, Marissa shoots Trey in the back and all of a sudden Imogen Heap starts playing.

Deserved as it might have been, if Ryan had been able to restrain himself, he might not have put Marissa in that compromising of a situation. And if he hadn’t put her in that compromising of a situation, then maybe she wouldn’t have freaked out and thrown her laptop across the room while she was trying to explain her felony on her college applications. Which was quite enjoyable to watch. So yeah, I guess he did the right thing after all.

So in sum, boys, when it comes to “fighting over a girl,” violence is never the answer. Worse than the violence itself is your backward notion of “having a girl” that it represents. BTW, did you know that you’re also not getting a dowry when you finally find some unsuspecting nit-wit of a girl to marry you? Big bummer, right?

...and you will know my blog titles by their unnecessary word length

There is a school of thought that it is a virtue to be concise. Why say in fifty pages what you can say in one? However, some artists just want to rebel against the system and make miserably long song titles that trick you into thinking they’re complex. Here are some of my favorites:

Brand New- “Okay, I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don’t”

This song title is taken from a line in the movie that Macaulay Culkin is watching in Home Alone 2...which, by the way, seems like an awesome movie. In addition to loving the name of this song, I also love the song itself. It’s self-assured, it’s scathing...just, love.

Primitive Radio Gods- “Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand”

Although I come from a generation where Primitive Radio Gods and phone booths are both obsolete, I’d imagine that the singer is trying to describe some kind of generally sucky feeling of needing something to work that just doesn’t work. Like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife? Unfortunately, in my lunchroom, the exact opposite is usually true. I’ve gotten many a plastic-knife burn on my tongue when attempting to knife my yogurt.

The Ataris- “The Last Song I Will Ever Write About a Girl”

Spoiler alert--it wasn’t.

Andrew Bird- “Nervous Tic Of Motion of the Head To The Left”

I get what he’s saying, but does it really have to be to the left? I just tried to tic my head to the right. I guess it does have to be to the left to get the intended effect. To the left, to the left...

Brand New- "Good To Know That If I Ever Need Attention All I Have To Do Is Die"

That’s also what Amir Vehabovic thought. He was wrong.

Sufjan Stevens- entire discography

When you’re assigning a 3-5 page term paper, Sufjan is the kid in your class who raises their hand and asks coyly, “But...can it be more than 5 pages?” Everyone in your class would love to kick this kid’s ass, and rightfully so. But you just have to nod your head and say encouragingly, “That’d be great, Sujfan.” What he turns in is actually a 300-page report on fucking Michigan, of all things, with an asterisk at the bottom indicating that he intends to do this kind of think for all 50 states. You’d really like to write that he’s an asshole and he’s never going to make it, but instead you write “Wow! You are really gifted, Sufjan!” without reading any of his paper. Next year, you recommend him for Honors English just so you never have to deal with him again.

Fall Out Boy- “I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me”

This song was not written about me, but I do know the feeling. God, Pete Wentz. Ever heard of buying a girl a diamond necklace? A bouquet of roses? Ever heard of CALLING A GIRL BACK??? No, I guess not.

Fall Out Boy- "Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued"

That time it was about me.

in the face of a tragedy, US music puts some cover-up on its face

I recently exercised tact and did not make a comment that I really wanted to make on Facebook.

The post was from my boyfriend, discussing how he had never heard anything more disgusting than Swedish House Mafia’s “Don’t You Worry Child” intercut with news coverage of the recent school shooting. And I really wanted to make a joke saying, yeah, they really should have put it to Foster the People’s “Pumped Up Kicks” instead.

But then again, I knew that that would cause some people to write me off as a horrendous person for the rest of my life, because I’m not allowed to have a humorous thought in aftermath of a tragedy.

In fact, in the aftermath of a tragedy, the song “Pumped Up Kicks” is not even allowed to exist on many major radio stations.

And then I got to thinking...America really likes to change who it is in the face of a tragedy. They pretend that they thought songs that make school shootings sound somewhat sexy were not okay all along. It’s kind of like deleting everything embarrassing from your diary and then allowing a close friend to read it cover to cover. It’s deceptive.

And it goes beyond the radio deleting things that are embarrassing. It extends to deleting things that in any way make the listener feel icky or think any thought that is anywhere related to the Big Bad Thing that has just happened.

After 9/11, music went through an utter pussification. Sorry to be profane, but I just can’t think of a better word to describe it.

Jimmy Eat World renamed their recent album, previously titled Bleed American, to be eponymous. It would be one thing if their album was titled Bleed, American. But it wasn’t. They just had to change it for all of those idiotic Americans who’ve never read a book in their lives, let alone Eats, Shoots & Leaves.

The Strokes re-released their album Is This It?, removing the track “New York City Cops” and replacing it with the most phoned-in, phoney piece of shit song I’ve ever heard. The original song was an upbeat account of misbehavior that happened to make the tongue-in-cheek assessment, “New York City cops/ They ain’t too smart.” Which is an idea that was not allowed to be thought in a post-9/11 world. Any reference that portrayed cops as anything other than noble heroes was prohibited.

Other little edits were temporarily made to the radio waves for a little while. A disgusting Toby Keith song about putting a “boot in your ass” if you messed with the red white and blue gained undeserved popularity. The song “Proud To Be An American” was played every few hours on mainstream radio stations as well, which, much like Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up,” I’ve never heard in the context of anything other than a joke.

Worse yet were the songs that were taken off. Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad” met a brief hiatus, which I suppose is forgivable due to proximity. A little further removed from the situation was U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” which had absolutely nothing to do with violence in the US or in the Middle East, but rather in Northern Ireland. Worst of all, for all of those sub-80 IQ Middle Americans out there, the Dave Matthews Band song “Crash Into Me” was temporarily taken from the airwaves. Yikes.

I guess what I’m trying to say is...we try to act like we value free speech, but in the face of tragedy, we have to practice overly careful, walking-on-eggshells speech. We have to retract anything that could make it look like problems exist. I don’t want to be emotionally manipulated into thinking it’s cool to put a boot in someone’s ass or that cops are generally intelligent. Do you?

The DSM-IV is the new It-list, says faux folk acts on 99.5

Hot or not: the femme fatale?

I’ll answer delicately to avoid being called a hypocrite. I’ve always enjoyed this archetype. I never minded sharing a name with The OC’s sometimes anorexic, somewhat bipolar, occasionally overdosing Marissa Cooper. And I’d be lying if I said no student has ever caught me perusing the wikiHow for how to be more like John Green’s Alaska Young.

So I guess I’d have to say that, yes. I do enjoy the kind of girl that has some issues but is also stupid-hot. Though overdone, it can still be an interesting character with depth. I can dig it.

The femme fatale is hot.

But the femme flacide, as I would like to dub a recurring type of character in recent twangy pop music, is NOT.

The femme fatale is the girl you’re with when you drink a 40 and a 5-hour Energy on your way to go do something awesome that will probably get you arrested.

The feme flacide is the wholly unattractive girl crying on the floor of your dorm room because she’s just professed her love to you and you told her you’d rather just be friends (at least until she does something about that moustache). You think to yourself: I really should go to Spanish class, but does 90 minutes give this bitch enough time to consume my athlete roommate’s entire supply of painkillers and Joose? Ain’t nobody got time for that!

I don’t have time for it, anyway. But the crappy folk-pop currently littering the Top 40 radio waves does.

We first see the feme flacide in One Direction’s second single about a girl with low self-esteem (not to be confused with their first single about a girl with low self-esteem). The music is toned down, the boy-band sound is subdued; this is their serious song, guys!

And since the average One Direction fan lacks the higher-order thinking skills to make an inference, they are easy on the subtlety when crooning about this down-on-herself female:

“You never want to know how much you weigh/ You have to squeeze into your jeans/ But you’re perfect to me.”

The song is aptly named “Little Things,” and I’m just going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing that the perfectly perfect little Brit tweens of 1D are not actually chubby chasers. Nope. Instead, they are fetishizing the already way too common complaining of size 0 preteens: “I’m fat.” Sorry Liam, Niall, and whatever other terribly named little shits are in that group. There is only one song worth listening to about low self-esteem.

Phillip Phillips, the American Idol winner whose music is as redundant as his name, recently created that song on the radio that you probably think is just Mumford and Sons’ weakest single. It’s called “Home.” Hm. I’ve never heard a song by that title before.

Phillip X 2 would like to tranquilize his love interest: “Settle down, it’ll all be clear/ Don’t pay no mind to the demons/ They fill you with fear.”

More often than not “demons” are a euphemism for “deal-breaker.” Like when your girlfriend is a perfect 10, except for the whole “dissociative identity disorder” thing. And the whole “sociopathic” thing. These are just words. Words are just demons.

The girl from Ed Sheeran’s (by the way, what the fuck kind of stage name is that? That sounds like the name of my mom’s friend’s husband, not a pop star) latest single has got some real problems. I mean, she’s got girl-from-Bright-Eyes-lyrics level of issues.

She’s apparently a prostitute. Has been since age 18. “But lately,” Ed sighs, “her face seems/ Slowly sinking, wasting/ Crumbling like pastries/ And they scream/ The worst things in life come free to us/ Cause we’re just under the upper hand/ And go mad for a couple grams.”

Is this really the girl you are pining after, Mr. Sheeran? That’s okay and all, but I would advise you to look for track marks while holding her hand...and maybe request an HIV screening before taking things to the next level.

I think what I hate the most about this song is the way he says the word “pastries.” From the Toaster Strudel to anything and everything Entenmann's--the pastry is a sacred thing to me. Don’t taint it with your overdone accent and put-on quaver! Just don’t!

Ed Sheeran goes on to sulk through cliche metaphors: “It’s too cold outside/ For angels to fly.” I’m not quite sure what exactly happens when it’s too cold outside for angels to fly. I’m much more acquainted with what happens when angels deserve to die...and it’s awesome.

So all in all, I’m just tired and bored of hearing about this kind of passive, hopeless headcase of a girl. I’d like pop music, especially this bizarre subset of folk pop to dig a little deeper, please. Throw in a new archetype. What about a down-ass bitch? Maybe a folk cover of “Bonnie and Clyde 03”? It is about time for the femme flacide find an extremely pathetic and cowardly way to do what she was always destined to do.