One Trick Pony - Nelly Furtado

I'm gonna level with you, I cannot tell the difference between guitar players. I love music (in case you missed that) and I can tell lots of different instruments apart, can compare quality and hear nuances and yet I honestly cannot tell when a guitar player is A plus at shredding and another one is just phoning it in. That scene in Wayne's World where he wants to play "Stairway to Heaven" on the Grail of guitars is funny but means less to me since I cannot really understand the significance of Zep (in that regard, I love them overall). Maybe I know more than I think I do. I can tell that I love Patty Larkin's brand of accoustic guitar, but plug it in and let it fly and if it's not Hendrix doing Dylan, I'm not sure what to say (perhaps "turn it down," which makes me sound far more old-fashioned than I am, scout's honor). Now, all of this is to say that I love strings. Like violins. And violas. And cellos. In music. Especially pop music. Maybe it's the eight years of forced violin lessons but I something about strings get me - even if I know it's electronic strings that were not so much played as controlled by a keyboard.

Which is all to say, I love "One Trick Pony" off Nelly Furtado's underappreciated masterpiece Folklore (between the "Like A Bird" breakthrough album and the "Promiscuous" makeover). The song opens the album and features the Kronos Quartet, perhaps most popularly known for their work on that eerie paen to drug addiction Requiem for a Dream (which also features Jared Leto as the hottest drug addict ever) and the song "Lux Aterna" from the soundtrack. But Kronos Quartet has had a varied career collaborating with everyone from my favorite minimalist composer Philip Glass to Bollywood stars. "One Trick Pony" opens Folklore with the sound of the strings awakening and than stretching toward a bouncy jump, a trippy beat, something Middle Eastern and jangly, or perhaps a trip-hop beat, something that bends and calls for a head bop, or at least a knowing nod. Nelly's distinctive nasal voice with its childlike insistence and yet forward sexuality is perfect for a song about NOT being the one trick pony. The strings constantly circle like wagons in a metaphor and than at the break they attack with ever greater energy. There's a restraint here, a casualness, an off the cuff feeling, and yet Nelly's lyrics carry a solid message of sassified empowerment: "You say you're identical to none, but you're identical to some, who wants to be a some? Not me." She doesn't want to play a role, and you shouldn't either. You do NOT want Nelly to say of you, "You're just a pony." There's something comfortable and nine o'clock Sunday coffee shop about this song, something bouncy (and all these somethings lend themselves to weddings don't they?).

I LOVE Nelly. And this album in particular. Although I also grooved to her blissed out work with Timbaland on Loose where she channeled old-school Madonna. Her newest album, Mi Plan, all in Spanish, is another gem - start with "Bajo Otra Luz" for some chillingly good fun.