When ‘Vision of Love’ came out, I was quite taken with her voice – I mean, really, she does have a pretty amazing voice. What she does with it is a separate issue.
Anyway, when our house was burgled in 1995, four months after moving into it and six months after we got married, the bastards took all our CDs.
Here’s the unexplainable bit. We wrote out a list of all the CDs we could remember for insurance, about 100, and I’d remembered we had Mariah Carey. Now, by this stage, I could have thought, “Here’s my chance: let’s substitute her CD with something else I’d rather listen to.” I mean, who was going to know? It was a few years down the track from Vision of Love, after all.
But no. Not only did I feel compelled to replace Mariah honestly, but for some unbelievably unfathomable reason, I got another one as well. What can I say.
I don’t think either of them had been played until last week. I was really desperate for some background music while the vacuum cleaner was on. It was just there when I opened the drawer. I enjoyed about 30 seconds of ‘Vision of Love’ before I flicked the switch, and from then on it was just bass and high-pitched whale calls over 1200W of Volta. All right?
And the real crime is that years down the track, I STILL remember CDs which are missing: my wonderful Nino Rota compilation including the theme to La Dolce Vita (now out of print), Willy de Ville’s solo album produced by Mark Knopfler which includes the track which was our wedding dance (ditto), and even bloody Tim Finn’s solo album (who can forget ‘Fraction too much friction’? But, ‘I hope I never’ gets me still.). Actually, I still haven’t replaced that one.
Bloody Mariah and her ridiculously small waist and her even more ridiculous octave range.