We're locked out of the public eye

I think I've figured out why Sarah Dessen's books aren't my cup of tea.
It's not just that their stories about normal girls (and we all know my normal girl issues).
--OK, I should stop and say I really haven't read very many of her books. I'm barely a 1/4 of the way through Just Listen* and I read This Lullaby a couple years ago. The only reason I picked that up was because, shortly after determining that, yes, teenlibrarianship is totally my calling, I grabbed the Best Books for YAs list and read my way down. So the rest of her books could be completely different: I don't know. Reading Just Listen was supposed to be me giving Ms Dessen another shot, plus the story sounded good. C'mon, who doesn't love "Owen Armstrong--intense, obsessed with music, and determined to always tell the truth"?**
Yeah, Owen's obsessed with music, but it's clear that this book's intended audience is not. It's not just the usual "he's wears black so it must be loud" passage (although tons o' props for the oxblood Docs mention--you really can't go wrong with oxblood Docs, can you?) It's that the narrator keeps mentioning his iPod without a lick of curiousity as to what's on it. Our girls Andrea Marr, Bleu Finnegan, Cyd Charisse, or Samantha Madison would care, just like I would. Bleu and Sam would make an ass out of themselves to find out, with slapstick hilarity ensuing. Just like I would, most likely.
When Owen gives Annabel a ride home, none of the cds he moves off the passenger seat are named. I think this might have been the point where I said to the book, out loud (in my apartment--don't worry, my next door neighbors were too busy blaring "We Didn't Start the Fire" and "Another Day in Paradise" at 11pm on a Monday to notice), "C'mon! What's he listening to!?"
Plus, all obscure bands are made up, so if some girl was reading this and wanted to get into weird unknown music, she couldn't just google any of the stuff Owen plays on his radio show. Doesn't Sarah Dessen have people she could sucker into doing this kind of research? Hell, I'd do it for free. (Suddenly, Owen becomes a HUGE Belle & Sebastian fan...)
Look, I know rampant playlists would make the book twice as long (at least) and naming real popstars dates a book like a bitch, but there's an argument to be made that it places it more in a specific place and time.
Actually, a big complaint I had against This Lullaby was its lack of a concrete place. I prefer books with definite settings, whether I like that setting or not. I hated living in Philadelphia; I love when they get Rita's water ice in Anyone But You (actually Jersey, but around Phila--you get my point).
And that's a lot to take for a girl whose work computer is full of things like the online Girlysounds songs and "All Songs Considered" podcasts.
Owen reminds me of a conversation Tiff & I have had several times about our growing impatience with Thurston Moore. When you're in high school and haven't met very many cool weird kids, Thurston was the best thing going. He's obsessed with records, he loves talking about them and weird pop culture stuff, and he's got such the Cool Girlfriend. Then you get to college, and every boy you meet is a Thurston, and an ass. Except they don't want Cool Girlfriends. They want girls they can teach all about records and "good" music.
Which makes the end of this book especially irritating. Annabel becomes a perfect little music pupil/girlfriend. Oh, yeah, her home life gets better and she learns how to deal and speak up a bit, so that's nice.
This doesn't mean I won't recommend this book to anyone who I think it would be a good match for. It's just when it comes to thoughtful normal girl fiction, my personal reading money's on Deb Caletti and/or Maureen Johnson (seriously, do yourself a favor and read Keys to the Golden Firebird).

*This is when I started writing; I've since finished the book. And realized that, if I want to get any projects done evenings after work, I need to stop taking home my current book.
**Anyone else catch Henry Rollins on "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" this week? Awesome, and I'll buy Sarah Dessen a drink if she can tell me Owen isn't based on Hank with a straight face.