My mother just didn’t understand when i asked for headphones. I wasn’t just asking for headphones, i was asking for serious audio-observance equipment that could double as earmuffs on a cold winter’s day. She got me a pair of petite Sony’s that can be easily compacted and placed into one’s pocketbook.
Right. That’s what i said.
So, today we headed out to Best Buy, second only to Kohl’s in it’s sick ability to drain my pocket of all available green-backs (and, conveniently, we had just come from Kohl’s).
The resulting pair of earphones the size of hamsters (and requisite fistful of cd’s) are highly appropriate; when i have them on i can’t hear anything else happening in the room, even if i don’t have any music playing. Now, that’s a serious pair of headphones.
Honestly, the first person to market ear-muffs that double as headphones will make an absolute fortune.
[…] I wear my headphones for the entire walk from here to the theatre, and from there back to the apartment. This week i’ve been singing the whole way there: Pinkerton, Garbage, Return of Saturn, Jagged Little Pill. I investigate each record in thirty minute intervals, picking apart the melodies in high-definition sound and finding their places in my own range. Rivers comes out strained in chest voice, i solidly match Shirley’s alto, Gwen brings me up to falsetto or down to my lower register, and Alanis tends to hover over my break point. I cannot keep my voice inside my chest. […]