Amal Nahurriyeh

Isk came up to me in the dining room while I was sending a work email. "Mommy," he said, "On the new Ben Folds album there is a song with the name of the man that you and Mama like reading stories about."

I blinked. "There's a song with Sherlock Holmes in it?"

"Uh-huh."

I hugged him. "Thank you for telling me, honey."

In the car later that afternoon, he said, "This one is it! He said Sherlock. He didn't say the Holmes part."

For the record, I can detect no mention of Sherlock Holmes in this song, and no conjunction of syllabus which sounds like "Sherlock," but I still trust my baby.

Also, this video is hilarious.



Lyrics

So, basically, I'm letting my preschooler give me a fic prompt...

St. Elsewhere is the least depressing album ever made about depression.

Discuss.


(Examples: A transcendently remixed live version of Transformer; Crazy, obviously; Just a Thought, warning for discussion of suicide/suicidal ideation; St. Elsewhere, the title track.)

(Also let's talk about Cee-Lo's voice. That live version of Transformer, holy shit.)

ETA: How could I forget Boogie Monster? URGH, THIS SOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGGG.

Fox Mulder is not a man who makes mixtapes.

Prior to iTunes and the digital dominance of our musical lives, making a mixtape was hard damn work. I know this, because my dad has been making mixtapes my whole life, and they used to take, like, math and having lots of different pieces of technology and you had to sit there the whole time. I just can't see Mulder putting that much time and effort into it.

Plus, there's an weird sentimentality involved in making a mixtape. You're looking for a creative narrative thread, and frequently it revolves around the person you're making it for. Especially if you don't make them a lot, you have to find a way to create something consistent, something that captures the spirit in which you're making it. I don't see Mulder as wanting to draw on those sorts of creative skills, not for something as trivial-feeling as a mixtape.

So he just wouldn't. OK?

But let's say he did.

Let's say, oh, he decided he was going to make Scully a mixtape. For their anniversary, maybe.

("We have an anniversary?" she says when he slides it across the breakfast table. "Well, we have to, don't we?" "And now we celebrate it?" "I just thought...never mind." He sulks away with the dishes. She briefly contemplates gathering a blood sample--she's a normal doctor now, she can get it done fast--but puts the CD on for her commute, and listens to it on repeat for two weeks, until he gets in the car with her one time and it turns on automatically, and she shuts it off to try to forestall the gloating. She does not succeed.)

This is an attempt to telepathically read Mulder's musical preferences, through the admittedly limited framework of music I own. It's also an attempt to figure out, if he were so inclined as to make a mushy stupid romantic mixtape for his partner, what he'd put on it; that is, what would he want to obliquely tell her about his feelings? What sneaky things would he want to slide in there? I've done my best not to use songs I've used before on mixtapes, even where the Mulder in my head approved of them.

As my parenthetical ficlet above suggests, this is unremarkable-house era, though, actually, parts of it seem more s7 appropriate. Some bits of it are Caseyverse compatible, but it's not necessarily so. Anyway. Don't think too hard about it.

( 10 tracks: Bob Schneider, Joan Osborne, and others )

Download from mediafire here.