Do you ever feel like a popular entertainer is directly targeting you, personally? In a way that makes you feel happy but also slightly discombobulated, even though you know it can’t really be happening? I’m starting to get that feeling. Kelly Clarkson has sold zillions of records, and she has a hugely popular daytime TV show whose audience is entirely comprised of people who are not me. There is no way in hell she cares one iota about some middle-aged blogger in Virginia. But now Clarkson, doing her cover-songs-every-day thing, is marching her way methodically through the alt-rock hits of my high-school years. I don’t even know, man.