The Contractions

I loaded up the iPod with most of a Descendents album the other day, and this morning "I Won't Let Me" kicked in on my way to work. The song was unfamiliar—it'd been years since I'd last heard it—and so great that I marveled at each new surge of energy. Bracing stuff! By the chorus I figured out what it was, and when when the song ended, I played it again. And again. And again.

And again. I felt like I would never get sick of it.

This is unusual iPod behavior for me—I usually let the gods of shuffle have their way. The song had a peculiar hold on me. How had I spent all these years without it?

Curiously: Yesterday, while getting a haircut (thus sliding in my good-luck follicle-shearing right before the Chinese New Year deadline), Pink's "Don't Let Me Get Me" was playing—a decent enough song, with a similar lyrical conceit.

If any Dizzyheads know an eccentric millionaire, get her drunk, and while said moneybags is three sheets to the wind, have her sign an agreement saying she'll put out a limited edition 7" single on colored vinyl with the Descendents on side A, Pink on side B. Make sure there's a notary public on hand.

When the single is released, buy two copies. Play them simultaneously on different record players.

Write me a postcard and tell me what it sounds like.