The first thing I thought when I put on my headphones and sat down in front of the mic to record one of my stories was, I feel like Ashlee Simpson.
“I feel like I’m on This American Life,” I told Stephanie, because TAL is a spoken word show and I wasn’t doing any singing. Also, it sounded like a smarter reference. Also, I have a sort of sinus-y voice (“I can hear your nose whistling like the wind,” Steph observed upon playback) that could only ever hope to find a home on NPR.
Stephanie had me read various lines over and over in different ways—she’s a good acting coach as well as a person who understands what the Richter-like lines on her sound-engineer software mean. Then she showed me how she could splice everything together to make it sound like I read the story perfectly all the way through.
“Now I can see why Paris Hilton has a music career,” I said. “She only had to hit the right note once during the entire session.”
“Not even that,” Stephanie said. “They have pitch-adjusting equipment too. Like if you listen to
“Remember when Ashlee Simpson messed up on SNL and said they played the wrong track in her ear?” Steph said. “That was a bad lie because everyone heard the full song with all the instrumentation and saw that her lips weren’t moving along with it.”
I think I associate Ashlee with recording studios because she, to a slightly lesser degree than
(On a side note, while I know Fall Out Boy is probably not considered the coolest band by people who designate cool bands, I, like millions of 15-year-old emo boys and girls, think Pete Wentz is a hottie and certainly a cut above Ashlee Simpson. Come on, Pete—do you really want a girl who dyed her hair and got plastic surgery to make herself look less like one of your fans and more like Jessica Simpson?)
Hmm. I didn’t intend this post to be a rant against Ashlee Simpson. That’s how pop culture can hijack you, my friends. What was my point again? Just that for my next live reading, I’m considering lip synching to