For months now, O. has been obsessed with Pandora – the self-proclaimed “music genome project.”
Pandora basically allows a user to name a song or artist they like, then suggests other artists and songs that share similar qualities to your request. It is streaming audio, but pretty fast, and usually right on the ball.
Today during an incredibly tedious workday and very much needing something peppy, O. went to Pandora and typed in “Amy Winehouse.” (BTW, O. LOVED the Wino before she got big. And for the record, Rehab is still the worst song on the album. Ahem.)
Pandora generated the following playlist:
- Right Side of the Wrong Bed – Denise LaSalle
- Rehab – Wino
- The Shoop Shoop Song – Betty Everett
- Golden – Jill Scott
- Think – Katharine McPhee
- Natural Born Lover – Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings
- Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day – Morcheeba
- Plain and Simple – Hello Stranger
And, as always, we are obsessed in love with Pandora. And not the kind of love where you just get all flushed and can’t complete sentences around the person. We’re talking about the get a tattoo of the person’s name on your arm, drive by their house 20 times in one day, and *67 and dial them just to hear their voice.
That kind of love.