Thursday Jukebox Hears Loneliness in Capitalism and Sounds in Necklaces

Before I start off this week's jukebox, I'm just going to rant a bit at the pocket queen in the jockstrap who blocked me from my locker today.

1. If your gym accoutrements take up 75% of the bench, then you are clearly taking too much with you.
2. Don't look at me with some snide look because I said "excuse me" in a soft voice.
3. I can squash you without breaking a sweat.
4. Outside of pornography and late night workouts, I doubt that you'll pick up Mr. Right Now in a flimsy jockstrap.

That is all, reckon I. On with the show.

First off is Justyna Steczkowska's "Sama" from Dublin 1995. It may not seem easily apparent, but a reading of the lyrics are a comment on capitalist excess and the isolation that it brings out in the ordinary person. As you can probably guess, this is an anthem in my home, and yes, I like it even down to the screeching she does towards end. (You've got to have serious pipes to pull that off.)

Finally, Maarja-Liis Ilus & Ivo Linna perform "Kaelakee Hääl" at Oslo 1996. The title translates as "the sound of a necklace," which really makes no sense, especially since the sole necklace on display could barely register any sound whatsoever.

Now this is a duet between a teenage girl and a man old enough to be her grandfather.

And they are singing about longing for one another. And wanting to kiss.

I don't want to but a certain indelicate spin on this, but...well...ew.

Several funny things to point out in this one:

• The Estonian David Hyde Pierce clone on keyboards.
• Maarja's sudden decision to start singing with her teeth together during the bridge.
• They never seem to make any eye contact at all, as if they know that there's a squicky subtext to this song and really just want to get through with it.
• Maarja tries to turn this is into a soul song with her bopping, but it's just not going to happen.