Recently we made the bold, financially responsible, wildly unexciting decision to switch from Amazon Music to Spotify.
Why?
Because I operate on a highly sophisticated household budgeting system known as:
“Whichever one is cheaper right now wins.”
Turns out Spotify is cheaper.
WHO KNEW?
My wife knew.
Which is why we switched.
So now I’ve been riding shotgun with myself all over Sussex County, rebuilding playlists like a man restoring a classic car… except the car is my brain, and the parts are songs from 1978 to last Tuesday.
My taste in music?
Let’s just say it has commitment issues.
I’m all over the road.
A bit of chaotic confusion.
I can go from Broadway showtunes…
to underground 80s punk…
to something that sounds like it was recorded in a candlelit forest after a rainstorm by someone named Willow.
But one thing has always been consistent:
I like a smooth female voice.
Not the vocal gymnastics Olympics.
Not the “let me fit 14 syllables into the word no” routine.
Looking at you, Mariah.
(Respectfully… but also, no thank you.)
Give me Whitney Houston all day.
Clear. Powerful. No nonsense.
And I’ve got a soft spot for voices like Poe, Heather Nova, and Harriet Wheeler—
yes, that Harriet Wheeler from The Sundays…
the kind of voice that doesn’t just sing the song, it floats it into your ears like it pays rent there.
So the other day, I’m driving… minding my own business… solving the world’s problems one back road at a time…
And on comes Crystal Gayle singing “Talking in Your Sleep.”
Man… what a voice.
Smooth as glass.
And the song? Sneaky devastating.
She’s basically realizing—mid-relationship—that her partner is either cheating…
or at the very least, running some pretty questionable late-night dream scenarios.
Nothing says “we need to talk” like unconscious confessionals.
And then…
I swear on everything holy…
The VERY NEXT SONG—
“Talking in Your Sleep” by The Romantics.
Now hold on.
Same title.
Completely different energy.
So of course… now I’m comparing.
Crystal Gayle?
That’s heartbreak.
That’s “I think this thing is ending and I didn’t get the memo.”
The Romantics?
That’s a whole different late-night situation.
That’s passion.
That’s mystery.
That’s “you’ve got secrets and I am VERY interested in hearing more of them… preferably on repeat.”
Same title.
Two completely different conversations.
And here’s where I land—
I appreciate Crystal Gayle.
That voice is like warm coffee—soothing, soulful, easy.
But The Romantics?
That’s windows down.
Volume up.
Steering wheel drum solo.
Questionable dancing at red lights.
And if a song makes you do that?
BecauseJimSays… that’s the one you keep.
Or at least until the neighbor complains about your steering-wheel interpretive dance.
But I’m keeping both.
It’s my playlist. My rules. My questionable driving
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