Newsflash- Clive Davis Doesn't Ride the Metro

We love our readers. Especially those that tell us how they really feel! Today we bring you a guest post filled with intense vigor and a downright hatred of people who sing on the Metro. Have something to share with us? Drop us a line at movemetro@gmail.com


For those of you who still have a dream, let me for the good of all mankind squash it. Clive Davis, nor any other record producer of your dreams, doesn't ride the metro. So please stop singing at the top of your lungs like you're trying to get discovered.

The people who can make you a star are actually sitting comfortably in their plush town cars above ground, mostly in cities far far away. We metro riders can't do a damn thing for you.

Your ode to Christina Aguilera, that sounds like an obese cat walking over the black sharp and flat keys on a piano, is the last thing we want to hear while we are packed in, with confused, sweating tourists and the token angry guy who is obsessed with everyone moving to the f*ing center when there is no center left to move into. (Editor's note: This guy is SO token. He is on every car of every train at rush hour. Classic)

I am all for the arts, no matter how bizarre, useless or offensive. But please, when it comes to your tone deaf arias, use a little ingenuity. Hop on the netroots bandwagon, stick yourself on YouTube and myspace where people can choose to subject themselves to your soulful cacophonies. If you're terrible you wont even know it, your songs will float into the ether along with your unread 140 character satirical, insightful, Proustian musings on life. (Editor's note: No way is she referring to our tweets. Not a chance. Nu-uh.)

The same goes for Metro escalators. Their massive arches formed of strong East German looking materials do look acoustically inviting; promising to broadcast your vocals and transform them into a knee weakening performance. Well they don't. And even if they did those mighty curved pieces of cement cannot correct your voice, but only serve as a warning for the lucky few who catch you on your way down and make sure to choose a different car.

Additionally, as you enjoy your R&B, Knickleback ballads on your iPods, I'd rather not hear it through your headphones. And please note - all of us who have a BMI that has gone over the tipping point where booty dancing stops and swaying of the upper body begins, I don't want to hear your Britney blasting through your brain - I don't need the image of you dancing along.

Lastly, a beautiful singing voice can give us chills and stop us in our tracks. But there are so many who are painfully tone deaf and don't know it. So sadly we'll have to ask you all to keep it to yourself.