Radiohead - The King of Limbs - Self-released, 2011

Thom Yorke. What a guy. I bet he’s real comfortable in front of a mirror. After about 15 seconds in front of a mirror I start to go crossed eyed. Probably a result of my strict religious upbringing…something about hating yourself until you can’t stand the site of your own face. What a depressing shit-hole of self-awareness. I hate the sound of my own voice too. Like, I REALLY really REALLY really can’t stand hearing a recording of myself in conversation. I sound like a 16 year old female auctioneer from the valley with an abnormally deep voice and a mild case of down syndrome. Thanks, Sunday school. How did I ever make it to twenty with any shred of confidence? Actually, it was probably playing in bands that allowed me to tap into “Spotlight Ben” and develop my signature Döttling strength confidence. It’s nearly impossible to not go top-heavy when you’re inches above a room full of people who are all looking RIGHT at you and then clapping every time you take a break from whatever is it that you’re doing up there. I’ll be first in line to admit that nothing I did from 19-24 warranted this clapping. But they clapped anyways. Idiots. All my siblings are cocky ass-holes, too, though; yet none of them are musicians. Ah, but they are performers. My sister danced. My other sister did gymnastics. And my brother was in theater. My other other sister is too young to have done anything important yet. But when she does, you can be sure it will be on a stage. Dad was a drummer and mom was a cheerleader. What the hell, man. An entire family of attention junkies. Religion couldn’t break us. Being poor couldn’t break us. Fuckin unstoppable. Until you consider our fate. Dancing, alone, in front of a camera for five straight minutes. No, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that kind of behavior. Carry on.