okay, to name only some on the two albums i own, i love "Polaroids", "Round Of Blues", "Wichita Skyline", "Suicide Alley" (<<< definite film soundtrack material. damn, what a good song. FUCK, just listening to this right now makes me want to make a feature film. i could rock the hell out of this thing. the first chorus makes me want to scream like a rocket launch, and by the second chorus, i'd have viewers weeping. no shit. no idea why i'm sitting on my ass typing this, waiting for the hammer to fall.), and "Nothin On Me".

yeah, there's a perma-cutesy side to shawn colvin that annoys me, but then why shouldn't i be annoyed by a woman who was introduced to my brain involuntarily one beautiful california night by two jerks i only recall vaguely, with my fondest memory of one being that she got dumped in the pool fully clothed the next evening.

much as i love her, shawn colvin doesn't eclipse my borderline sexual obsession with a beautiful woman with a voice that makes me happy on command, and somehow still reminds me of shawn colvin. of course, i'm speaking of the tone goddess alison krauss. what a tasty. plays a fiddle just like she sings and looks. if you're a pitch freak, she has that rare gift of nailing pitch exactly as your best dreams might. a music powerpunch. and somewhere out there is the lucky bastard with her in his arms. i think if i heard alison krauss breathing in my ear as she slept, i'd lose it. seriously. death sentence for big C. don't even think of putting me in a bed with a sleeping alison krauss. i beg you. anything but that.