Confessions of a Middle Aged Fanboy

I'm way too old for this. I certainly don't qualify for the adjective fanboy, at least the boy part, anyway. But here goes. I am ridiculously infatuated with Sara Bareilles.

Like many of her fans, I first heard "Love Song" when it was the free tune o' the week on iTunes. Saw her on a Rapsody ad. Then one day I just decided to get the album "Little Voice." And I cannot stop listening to it. Really. Like for nearly a year now.

I grew up with albums on LP, and eventually CD. But my musical appetites were formed before it was possible to buy music one song at a time. So, I am conditioned to buying an album as a collection of songs intended to be a set, some more cohesive than others. And I am accustomed to the fact that not all songs on most albums are winners. In fact, on most albums, I'm quite happy if I really like 3 or 4 songs. It's rare to find an album, particularly a big label debut, where every tune is a winner.

"Little Voices" is all that and more. Every single song is fantastic. Really. Each is a gem in its own right. And as a collection they showcase a talent unlike any other I can name. Varieties of mood, style, her use of language, her piano performance, and her rich, deep, powerful wonderfully soothing voice make this one of the best albums I can remember. Ever. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this belief.

Douglas Adams wrote about beauty and music, in a roundabout way, in one of his Dirk Gently novels. He posits a theory that what we perceive as beauty is determined by the underlying patterns our brains recognize in the structure of whatever it is. In the same way that we can catch an object by placing our hands along its ballistic path without consciously doing the differential calculus, our brains tell us when they recognize some wondrous structure by making us perceive it as beautiful. That's a really geeky way of trying to say that while there's no way I can impartially quantify what sets Sara's talent apart, I know there's something special there because my brain tells me it's uncommonly beautiful. You might see it. You might not. But that doesn't change the fact that, since I bought it, I have not been able to go for more than a few days without listening to that album.

I will not argue that she's the best singer or writer or performer that's ever been. But there's something about her talent that so syncs with my particular likes, with the patterns my brain perceives, that she's definitely going to be a favorite of mine for as long as she decides to keep making music.

And, of course, it never hurts that she's drop dead gorgeous, too.