I was 12 years old when Jann Arden released Living Under June.
I remember falling in love with Could I Be Your Girl like I had never fallen in love with a song before. I was too young to know what it meant, or how desperately sad its lyrics are (“I am worthless sounds compared to all your perfect words”), but I loved it. I taped it from the radio and listened to it over and over again, writing out the lyrics in school notebooks, with hearts dotting the eyes.
I added it to my Christmas list that year. I remember standing in the record store a week before Christmas, holding the CD in my hands, wanting it right then like nothing else.
Santa didn’t bring me Living Under June for Christmas that year. Neither did my parents or grandparents. I took the money that I got for Christmas and bought it before the new year came. It’s not only the first CD I remember buying, it’s the first one I listened to front to back over and over and over again.
This Christmas marks 17 years since that Christmas. And while Living Under June was my first Jann Arden album, it was far from my last. Ten albums and five concerts have gotten me through my share of tween and teen heartbreak, self-doubt, self-loathing and finally, to my own self-acceptance.
I can’t explain what that music means to me. It was a life-preserver when I needed one. A shoulder to cry on when I had none. It was someone who understood what I was going through like no one else could. I strive to be myself, if only because the fridge magnet I got at the first Jann Arden concert I went to tells me to.
I was 24 when met Arden for the first time when she was inducted into Canada’s Walk of Fame in 2006. It was the first time I had interviewed anyone on camera. I interviewed a dozen celebrities before her, including Eugene Levy, Jennifer Coolidge and Brendan Fraser, and didn’t bat an eye. When it came to Arden, my 12-year-old self took over and I broke down crying. She was gracious and helped me get through it, but I was mortified. (And oh, yes, it’s all on video, which I still have and cringe every time I watch it.)
Not my most shining professional — or personal — moment.
So when I heard this year Arden was releasing not just another album, but a memoir as well (Falling Backwards), I knew I had to read it. And when I heard she was doing a Q&A and autograph signing, I set my sights on redeeming myself.
And I did. She didn’t remember me, which is good, but she told me not to let it get me down, “everyone has moments like that.”
I was glad to get to pose for a picture with her without tears welling in my eyes, and to be able to talk to her like the grown up — and professional — I am. Maybe I’ve grown up in the five years since, or maybe I just realize that while that 12-year-old hearing Could I Be Your Girl for the first time on the radio will always exist inside of me, it doesn’t mean I wear her on my sleeve.
As for Arden’s memoir? I’m halfway through it and will give a full review when I’m done (along with some of the other 52 in ’11 posts I’ve been neglecting), but suffice it to say, I’m not at all disappointed with the book.
Thanks for everything, Jann.

e-issuing her album Jagged Little Pill (JLP) as an acoustic album for sale exclusively at Starbucks.
nthem with her hit You Oughtta Know.
Move over Dire Straits; some other “unfit” songs for Canadian radio
Thursday morning news broke that the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council had deemed Money for Nothing by Dire Straits “unfit” for Canadian radio due to their use of the word “faggot” in the lyrics.
In response, Dire Straights has been a trending topic on Twitter for two days now, it’s been steadily climbing up the iTunes Canada chart (as of this writing it was No. 56) and three radio stations plan to play the song for an hour straight in protest Friday night.
So in the spirit of the Canadian Broadcast Standard Council, here are some other songs that came out years ago, but due to political correctness, should be banned from Canadian radio until the offensive term is bleeped out.
5. Louie Louie by the Kingsman (1963
Did the FBI ever fully complete their obscenity investigation into the lyrics of this song? Until we know what they’re really saying here, we should cut this from radio.
4. Blame Canada — South Park (1999)
Really, this should go without saying.
This song incites hate toward Canada, and puts our wonderful nation at fault for everything it can think of (“it seems everything went wrong since Canada came along”). And, they have the nerve to call us “not a real country anyway.”
Don’t even get me started on the Robin Williams performance of this at the Oscars in 2000 (just goes to show you, even the Oscars can reward hate speech).
3. I Touch Myself — the Divinyls (1991)
Come on, we all know what she really means here and Canadian radio is not the place to talk about such things.
Could you imagine being in a car and having to explain these lyrics to a child? What are the radio programmers out there thinking?
Absolute disgust.
2. Relax — Frankie Goes to Hollywood (1983)
“Relax don’t do it/When you want to go to it/Relax don’t do it/When you want to come.”
Released in 1983, this song barely made much a splash on the charts. But after it was banned in 1984 by the BBC due to the sexual nature of the album’s artwork and this song’s lyrics, it shot to No. 1 on the U.K. charts.
Perhaps Money for Nothing will see the same sort of chart explosion after it’s ban in Canada.
1. Raise a Little Hell — Trooper
Yes, Trooper is a classic Canadian band and I don’t like banning them from Canadian radio either, but sometimes you have to make hard decisions.
This song is a call to arms, encouraging revolution (“If you don’t like what you got, why don’t you change it?”) and we can’t be encouraging Canadian citizens to participate in changing their country.
This song also must be the next song banned on Canadian radio after its use on This Hour has 22 Minutes where Canadians politicians encouraged the Canadian public to vote in the 2000 election. Just sickening.
What songs do you think should be banned from Canadian radio and why?