Among Mad People

Dear Cocco,

I love you and all but you are mad as a cat.

Not that it hasn’t been a pleasure being a voyeur on the blood hungry, sun-drenched shores of your mind. It’s just that no one can really blame that guy in Countdown for running away. You’re such a drama queen, really.

You’re like Roald Dahl with his deception. What sounds like a cheesy love song is a macabre lament. Like German fairy tales that warn children they’ll be boiled in oil, dismembered, set on fire or crushed if they fail to obey the rules. Kids get reeled in easy. I find you most charming when you sing for them not to them. My Dear Pig is a good example. I can comfortably forget that you are raving in your world with a voice like rain.

I do love your voice. It does not grate. Its soft as suede where you love, piercing where you are afraid and always maintains its poise. Kumoji no Hate Thank you also for the translations. It more than whets curiosity and it’s not something everyone does.

This guy has said better things about you than I ever could. We have similar histories in our fanaticism so I trust his opinions completely.

On occasion you put out the B side that sounds faintly alt rock. I chalked that up to your producers. I love their work, I do. But Dr. Strangelove has a tendency to make songs for Verizon commercials. They arranged some beautiful numbers for Maika Shiratori but she only ended up sounding like a less enraged version of you.

I am very much looking forward to your collaboration with Quruli, Singer Songer. Quruli!!!! Rapture! But the merging of two good things don’t necessarily guarantee great. You’ve been quiet for so long. Get off that beach in Okinawa and give us more of what you have? I miss you. That cover of Yutaka Ozaki’s Dance Hall was nice but it wasn’t you.

Oh, and Singer Songer?

For the love of god, please don’t suck.