My iPod didn't feel like my own until I loaded some Ani DiFranco on it.
The last few days have been a process of feminizing my new iPod. It didn't come straight from the Apple Store, glorious in its pristine blankness and 40 gigs (or whatever obscene amount of storage they're offering these days). I graciously took it in when my friend G orphaned it for a better model.
So I received a 15 gig iPod...with 13 gigs of music on it. It was a masculine iPod, albeit one full of personality. Inside was a soulful black man, greasy-haired pothead and '70s muscle car-driving dude, with apologetic stints of wearing black frame glasses. I was glad to be introduced to these guys. To get to know Neil Young a little more than his heart of gold. To appreciate the corroded tremor in Tom Waits' voice. To learn who Shuggie Otis was.
I'll keep 'em around, but they've got to know: My iPod is a woman's world.
My musical choices are not political. I don't listen to Ani because she's a feminist and so am I. I don't listen to women musicans more because they're women and I feel they are underepresented in the music industry--even though they are.
I just connect with female vocalists more. It's not even their words. (Have you listened to any Rilo Kiley lyrics?) I suppose it's just that instinctual gravitation toward your own kind. I don't think it's just me. While there are more men in music, most guys I know have collections featuring very few female vocalists. Women tend to have a smattering more of female vocalists/bands.
I started to go into postulating why this was, but then I realized 11:30 on a Thursday night was too late to be applying feminist theory. I think I'll just introduce Shuggie to Fiona and Neko and then call it a night.