So here it is, the New Year, and from the sounds of it, it’s going to be pretty
bleak. Aw hell, you can’t count January, right? There’s nothing good to see in
the theatres, the big holiday release schedule has come and gone, and so a new
year always starts out rather lazily. But hey, if you like your music as gray
and cold as the general winter weather, then you’ll be more than happy with Tina
Dico’s new one, In the Red.
If you’re not familiar with Dico, you may have actually heard her crooning tunes
for the group Zero 7. And if you’ve never heard that group before, you’re right
in the majority pocket. All you need to know on the surface is that Dico has one
of those lovely voices that’s angst-ridden and floaty and wasted on a whole
bunch of songs that sound the same. It takes more than an ounce of patience to
sit through this entire disc in one listen, but if you’re feeling bummed out and
think you need to waste some time contemplating your navel at the closest Barnes
and Noble Starbucks, then this is the CD you’ll want to listen to on the drive
Dico’s good at doing that warm/cold thing. You know, her voice has that flaky
semi-sensual thing going on, but peel away that layer and it’s an ice fest.
Okay, so maybe this isn’t a CD for your average guy. Or for any guy, for that
matter. Unless you’re a guy who watches tripe like “The Gilmore Girls” and likes
to wipe the tears away every time Rory opens her mouth to let some banal
diarrhea flow from her mouth. Sure, then this CD could be for you. The songs
trudge along on slow tempos, minor keys, and bold choruses. In fact, the chorus
for the first track “Losing” is damn great. If only it didn’t have such dull
verses weighting it down.
But hey, you’ve got your Venti Café Americano now and you’ve taken off your
muffler and gloves and are sitting down to read some “Chicken Soup for the
Douchebag’s Soul”. Ah yes, Starbucks and a good read. What could be better? But
wait! What’s that being piped through the store’s speakers? Why, it’s In the
Red! Your ears perk up to the muddled strains of “Nobody’s Man.” This is
some beautiful, sad music! You almost spill your cinnamon on the table when the
disc shuffles over to “Use Me.” Oh, but you’re relating now! Slow, slow songs
forged upon what those idiots on TV call “delicious pain” is now pounding its
hips into your eardrums and you almost climax right there on your biscotti!
Keep it together! Oh, do they have this for sale? You ask the clerk, but they do
not. You’ll have to go over to Border’s across the street and buy it. Fuck. You
don’t like their coffee over there, but you suppose you could risk it for the
music. After all, the same-as-the-rest-of-‘em song “Warm Sand” is now playing
and you feel like you’re on a narcotic drip. Everything’s getting slower now.
You grab your coffee and head out to cross the street. Your feet are melting
from the drama of “Give In” as it blares from the Starbucks’ door before it
swings shut. You’re almost there…
You barely make it into Border’s. You’re an absolute mess but you manage to ask
the clerk for In the Red by Tina Dico. She looks at you over her sexy
frames and struts her college ass and legs, all painted down in a pair of capris,
over to the ROCK/POP section. She gets the disc for you. You’re almost a puddle
now. You pay for it and somehow make it to the car where you put the disc in.
“Head Shop” explodes all over the interior of your BMW and you instantly die a
happy person who likes slow, boring music that all sounds the same. Some thugs
find your car, dump what’s left of your body, and take your precious Beemer to a
chop shop, where it’s turned into parts for a replica of Optimus Prime.