Another singular musician’s light has been extinguished. Jill Sobule died yesterday morning; I learned that only this morning, as for my sanity’s sake, I check the news just once a day.
I can’t say that I was a fan … I’d heard her song “Supermodel” in Clueless, but it didn’t make enough of an impression for me to track down the singer. The only album I have is her 2000 release, Pink Pearl, which a piratical friend shared with me. It made an impression on me for its varied styles and her unique perspective and story-telling. She struck me as similar to Warren Zevon in that way; opening her Wiki page revealed that others see that too. So I’m at a loss to explain why I never explored more of her music.
What little I’ve heard touches me because it feels authentic and intimate in a way a lot of music1 doesn’t. I know better than to think that her songs are mostly autobiographical, but her perceptive songwriting makes that feel plausible. Sobule was close to my age; that’s probably a big part of why today’s MotD came to mind.
although as I write this, it occurs to me that “a lot” might be better refined as mostly male musicians who, for whatever reason, focus on chasing sex, drugs, and other thrills
I was so saddened this morning to read of her tragic passing. I always loved “I Kissed a Girl” from her 1995 self-titled album. That’s the first song that turned me on to her and I followed her for a few albums. So sad.
https://youtu.be/LUi11Cz4ZUg?si=M2Z0Pq_PXMH42hTl