“…and by Wednesday, I can’t sleep.”

“Pieces Of Me” by Ashlee Simpson | My sister had a copy of Ashlee Simpson’s first album, Autobiography. It’s weird how we latch on to certain artists because of the sheer coincidence of when they debut. This was also around the same time we were in our early teens, dovetailing nicely with her Linkin Park stage. We were clearly getting into pop-rock like the rest of the world, and Ashlee seemed accessible despite our unfamiliarity with her sister’s work. “Pieces Of Me” felt like an anthem, even, despite the lack of an intensely personal connection: for me, perhaps it’s because the song is just so satisfying. And then it seemed to all be over when Ashlee released her second album, with a single that we really can’t relate to. Fast forward to today, and a lot of things has happened. I was watching television – it’s Martha and Snoop’s Potluck Dinner Party, in this case – and I had to squint before realizing that Ashlee was a guest. I did not recognize her. [NB]

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