NEW MUSIC FOR OLDS #50A
What would you call the world’s biggest loser?
Hey there, Paid Subscribees. How glad am I to see you? This glad.
A bit of context for today’s tunes:
Last week I wrote about Australian duo Finnogun’s Wake, and the tragic misspelling of my family name. In actuality, the band’s name is a merely a portmanteau of its members. And my ambivalence towards the name “Finnegan” was documented in my 2009 comedy special, Au Contraire. There’s also a chunk of material about my middle name (Christian) on my 2019 album, 60% Joking. Some things, however, have been heretofore too painful to joke about. For you, maybe it was watching your Little League team team perish in a fiery dirigible crash. For me, it’s the name that appears first on my birth certificate: Fletcher.
Like a true upper middle class white person, I blame my parents. From birth, they referred to me as Chris—”Fletcher” was nothing more than a wank to my maternal grandfather. But a 7yo doesn’t understand familial obligations. Instead, I came to think of my “secret” first name as a shameful defect to be hidden at all costs, like a third nipple or vestigial tail.