The end of summer was nearing, and I had just finished up a project where I had covered 30 songs in 30 days. I wanted to write. I wanted to put music out to the world that I could call my own. If only I could find inspiration. Perhaps, if I made myself dinner and filled my brain with greasy cheese and jalapeños.. perhaps then I’d be able to write something of substance.
Nachos. Maybe what I wanted for dinner would both satiate me physically and creatively.
So I sat down on the Labour Day weekend and I began to write, chips in hand with sour cream on the side. This is what my life has come to. I was writing an album about nachos. I love nachos. They’re likely one of the core elements of my diet – how else could I accurately depict my soul-feelings?
I feel very close to this album. It’s very personal, and I’d like to expand on what each and every song is about.
Listen along, and be amazed.
The Other Woman
Nachos are held together by the adhesive that we all adoringly call “cheese”. If your relationship doesn’t have that cheese, or if someone is splitting their cheese with someone else- all you have is chips and maybe some vegetables. Nobody likes eating chips and vegetables, except maybe Martha Stewart.
The Other Woman describes my feelings as a single woman trying to find herself – and her nachos – and eventually someone to share those nachos with, yet always failing to find someone who has 100% of their nachos to share, and not being quite ready to give up 50% of her own.
Going for the Gold
You know what the best part is about nachos? When the cheese melts down to the bottom of the pan and transforms into beautifully golden cooties to be munched on when all of the sour cream and salsa has disappeared into the bellies of you and your friends and you’re waiting for the next beer.
Every time I’ve shared nachos with friends it becomes a competition to eat this rare gold before said “friends” steal it away from me. It’s a race. I rarely lose these races because I just go for it. You think you’re my friend? You think I love you? No. I love nachos. You’re a thing of the past.
Sometimes you eat too many nachos and then you have a stomach ache for days. Sometimes this stomach ache can only be resolved by tootin’. Sometimes you have responsibilities that need to be taken care of like baking cakes or pies. Sometimes you know that if you do anything after eating a bunch of nachos, you’ll be the stinkiest lady in town.
So you make a deal with the nachos that are now living, breathing, inside of you. You can speak to them. You make them promise that they’ll only stay around for a night – this was a one time thing until the next time you decide to see them. And then you go for it. Ghost toot all night long, you deserve it.
Used to Be
I used to be someone with goals and aspirations – but then there was nachos, and quite honestly now I just work so that I have money to eat nachos as much as possible. They are expensive, like dating, but you know – that’s just how it goes.
The clock has passed 2 AM and you wake up with a craving for nachos. You can’t sleep. You want nachos. You dreamt of nachos in the brief period before crashing on your couch post-beers and there’s no possible way of satisfying this craving otherwise.
You go to your fridge. Your cheese has molded (how? I ate 3 meals of nachos this week? how?). There’s no chips in your cupboard. No jalapeños. The restaurants have all closed. The fear sets in. Are you there nachos? Can someone save me? I’m scared. I can’t sleep. Help.
Some nights you find yourself in bed with a TV show you’re not entirely sure you love but you’re binge-watching anyways. The only thing that could accompany this well is nachos in bed. You know it will make your sheets smell weird and in the event that someone comes to spend the night with you your bed will have an aura of cheese. But who cares? Who wants to be with someone who doesn’t like nachos? Right?
I don’t want to sleep without my nachos. I can’t believe you left me because of my nachos. I cry every time I sing this song just thinking about it.
My least favourite thing that has happened to me during Nacho Adventures is going out with a friend who continuously asks you questions. You try to be polite and answer them, but then you realize that it’s impossible to both eat nachos and provide them with satisfying responses. Please be quiet for the next 15 minutes and let me enjoy my nachos. I don’t want to talk about it, where it means anything except nachos.
Summer is the time when all your friends want to hang out. They’re happy. They’re wearing sleeveless tees and short shorts, which would make anyone happy about themselves. They want to go out. But you’re craving nachos, and restaurant nachos just won’t do. I’m not going to go tonight, I can’t fight, I can’t fight the craving for nachos.
Eventually you need a little bit more than nachos. You want to share your nachos with a friend or two perhaps. You don’t want to be angry about them wanting to speak to you or eating the golden bits. But you quickly realize – hey, I’ve never done this before.
You try to go out with them. You order the largest size possible to prevent yourself from getting upset at the quantity they’re eating. But it happens. They eat the golden bits. They chatter. They take the pieces with the most cheese and leave you with some dry tortilla chips. They hog the sour cream. Rude.
I tried this. I tried hard. I quickly realized I just wanted to play alone when it came to nachos. So I do.
If you like nachos as much as I do, you can buy my debut solo album, Amateur, over here on bandcamp.