Friday, May 23, 2008
Things That Will Ruin Your Weekend: Alanis Morissette's Voice
Oh dear Lord, Alanis Morissette's voice is back from wherever it's been for these past few happy years and is bound and determined to ruin my long weekend. You know how you sometimes see someone—on the train, on the street, in a Sex and the City promotional poster—and they look so irritating that your hand just automatically collapses into a fist, even though you're not a violent person? That's what happens when I see Alanis Morissette, because when I see her all I can think of is that voice. That horrible, debilitating, nasally whooping cough that made the 90s even more unbearable than Pearl Jam did.
Ms. Morissette and her adenoidal vocal "stylings" paid a visit to the Today show this morning, where she screeched loud and proud about things being ironic in your Chardonnay or whatever. Alanis Morissette's voice has more ticks than summer camp, and it will crawl into your brain like a rabid alien earthworm and eat its way out. Or, to use another random comparison, her voice is a jagged little pill that cuts your throat as you swallow it, travels through your body slicing through every vital organ as it goes, and then circumnavigates your entire nervous system, leaving nothing but torn blood vessels and dead synapses in its wake. Then it eats your eardrums.
That’s what Alanis Morissette’s voice does. To me and many like me. And God help the folks that are unlucky enough to sit anywhere near Morissette and her boyfriend in a movie theater. Gross.