Is she asking me to look at her tits?

To wit.

Heterosexual men tend to qualify themselves as being "leg men" or "breast guys" as a way of identifying which physical characteristic they find most attractive in the opposite sex. I will now use this as the basis for an imperfect metaphor for what people look for in music. Bear in mind that all my choices in this analogy ultimately reflect my sensibilities more than they unravel some deep human mystery.

So.*

"Breast Guys" are people whose primary concern is the lyrics. It's the most obvious, in-your-face asset, and the hardest to deny. I mean really, who doesn't like a good, um, lyric. Although many will disagree about what makes for a good, um, lyric, there is fortunately enough variety to keep everyone happy.

Now "Leg Men" are a more rarefied lot. I liken them to those for whom the music is most important. Legs are, after all, the support upon which we stand. There is a more subtle beauty to be found here, one that can speak to a deeper place.

As for me, the most important thing is the face, which I will liken here to the over-all sound. Why, you ask, does the face equal sound? Because it's my damned metaphor, go get yer own.

So.*

Yesterday I was listening to Joanna Newsome's Ys. The first thing I noticed was the lovely sound of the work. The way her voice weaves through her playing coupled with the wonderful support of Van Dyke Parks' production makes for a beautiful disc. However, the words, and there are a lot of them, seem to be the real focus of this work. And as I pondered this music, and this bizarre metaphor, I was left with one question. "Is she asking me to look at her tits?"

*used with acknowledged debt to K.V.jr.