If you asked me about my favorite musicians I’d probably recite a litany of artists from J.J. Cale to The Black Keys, but I wouldn’t mention Aimee Mann. I recently realized that she’s my secret music catharsis.
I have most of Aimee’s albums and listen to them often. Her lyrics and the cadence of her chords shoot straight through me even though I’ve heard them a thousand times. She’s like this modern-day feminist soothsaying nightingale. So many times I plunk CD’s in my stereo trying to match my mood, and so many times I rotate disks until I find one that can move and flow with my head at that moment. Aimee always sinks perfectly into my mind.
I’m not sure I could handle seeing her perform live in front of hundreds of other people unless I was wearing nine layers and hiding in the back corner. It would feel more personal than having someone read my diary. But I did survive seeing (and meeting) Kathleen Edwards a couple of months ago without bawling my eyes out…so there is hope.