May 24th, 2008

tminick

An Open Letter to Duran Duran

Dear Duran Duran--

It's not you, it's me.

Honestly, it is. This has nothing to do with my feelings about your career choices or your musical direction. It's true that Red Carpet Massacre isn't in my top five (my top five being Rio, Duran Duran (the debut iteration), Pop Trash, Medazzaland and Liberty, which I think says plenty about my relationship with you right there) but I've always felt that any time you put out an album that I wasn't 100% in love with, all I'd have to do was wait and you'd do something completely different by the next one.

I truly wish you the best in whatever you choose to do. I've simply decided that it is no longer my concern.

Yes, of course, I know in the grand scheme of things it never was. But in the smaller scale of things, I'd made it my concern. I circulated petitions and flyers back in the days of Liberty. I put up promotional posters when Duran Duran (the Wedding Album iteration) came out. I organized an assault on MTV's Total Request Live when Pop Trash came out. I phoned radio stations asking for each single. I wrote an angry letter to Entertainment Weekly when they spoke slightingly of the fanbase.

And I travelled from city to city as you toured, catching as many shows as I could possibly manage to see. In zebra stripe, no less.

I don't regret a moment of it. Understand that. I am very glad that I did what I did while I had the chance. But I'm also clear-eyed enough to remember that during that time in my life when I was having those wild adventures, I was also in therapy and taking antidepressants. The highs were blissful, but the lows weren't so hot.

I've been through some intense transitions in my life since that time. I won't detail them, except to say that I'm ultimately in a better place than I was all those years ago. I'm out of therapy, off of the antidepressants, living in a home that I own and working a job that sustains me. I'm in the process of rewriting my first proper novel and I'm striving towards several other goals, including that of getting my clothing shop in Second Life properly stocked up and turning a profit.

In short, I have things to devote my time and energy to that are more important to me than how your album is doing, whether or not Sony is going to drop you or when I'll get to see you again. I saw you play in Atlanta, and enjoyed the show immensely. I played the game of lets-wait-in-the-hotel-lobby after the show because my friends were there and I wanted to see them. But I've decided that the game is no longer worth playing. I've met you enough times, really, and there's not much more for me to say in a fleeting between-autographs moment.

Yeah, I know, it's not as if you'll really notice the difference. Warren was the only one who bothered to learn my name, anyway. But, like I said, this isn't about you, it's about me.

When I've become a hip and famous writer, do feel free to look me up and say hello. I'll be happy to talk to you as equals, but I'm no longer interested in chasing after you as your devotee.

Best wishes,

Sheila
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