161. "Dead or Alive" by Journey
When I returned home to Arimo after my mission, before I even drove up the lane to the house, my father took me to the shed he'd built at the Y and showed me a big surprise that he had kept secret from me during my last months in Sweden. He had purchased a new black step-side Chevy pickup. He didn't give me the truck outright. It always remained his vehicle. But he did let me drive it a lot that summer. It had a pretty good stereo system in it, so I spent a couple weeks rounding up all of the vinyl albums that my family had and making tapes to play in the truck. My sister Renda had Journey's 1981 "Escape," which had a lot of very good songs on it, including their multi-generational hit "Don't Stop Believin'." But the song that I ended up liking the most from that album was "Dead or Alive." It wasn't because of the lyrics. The song told a very short tale about a double secret agent/international assassin that ends up getting killed by a "heartless woman's 38." Not exactly the kind of story a farm boy from Idaho will immediately relate to. But the music was a turbo-charged arena rock romp that served as the perfect background music for my favorite thing to do in that Chevy truck--a roadside peel-out on gravel, followed by the fastest possible acceleration to the speed limit (and sometimes beyond). When Neal Schon's guitar blasted out that first note, I'd floor it. Those back tires would start spinning Old Blue style and the gravel would fly. Then a little bit of rubber would get laid down as the tires hit the pavement and start to squeal. Adrenaline surge!
Punch it!
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
162. A well-timed "Ooo!"
162. "Hard to Say I'm Sorry/Get Away" by Chicago
There are three kinds of people in the world. There are those that like to hear the first three minutes and 45 seconds of the slow rock ballad "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" with a fade-out ending before it gets into the fast-paced 1 minute and 20 seconds of the "Get Away" part of the song. Then there are those that think "Get Away" is the reward we get for listening to the first three minutes and 45 seconds of the song. Which one are you?
I'm more of the latter than the former. If you are just listening to it in your room or if the song is on the radio, "Get Away" should always, ALWAYS be played at the end. It is a rocking, piano-and-brass-filled aural treat that produces tingly goosebumps and an invigorating jolt of energy.
One of my favorite memories of my cousin Randy is when this song came over the radio late one night as we were laying on our beds listening to music before going to sleep. When "Get Away" started playing, we both whooped with joy, cranked up the volume, air-drummed the lead-in, and then windmilled the power chords like Pete Townshend. After that, we started air-drumming more and more vigorously until we ended up jumping up and down on our beds and dancing around the room while laughing like the fools we were. It was a great spontaneous moment when we just let loose and enjoyed music as only teenagers can.
For me, there is only one situation in which I will not scream "Nooooo!" when the song fades out before "Get Away." You do NOT want to hear this last part of the song if you are slow dancing to the first part with someone you really like. If you don't like the person, any reason to get out of the clinch is a good one. But if you like the person, there is nothing more awkward than having to break off a slow dance mid-song to transition into a fast dance. The only thing worse is if the song goes from a slow dance to a fast dance and then back to a slow dance again. That is the absolute worst thing that can happen with a dance song. And I think someone should have told this to Lionel Richie before he wrote "Say You, Say Me." Yes, it won him an Oscar for Best Original Song back in '86, but at what price to humanity?
Which brings us to the third kind of person--people that like to dance to "Say You, Say Me." These people fully embraced irrationality a long, long time ago. What probably drove them to their special level of crazy was the music video to "Say You, Say Me," which features clips of Lionel singing into the camera alternated with scenes from the movie "White Knights." The movie starred dancers Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines, so you know it's got to be in the same genre as other famous 80s dance movies, like "Flashdance," "Dirty Dancing," and "Throw Mama From the Train." Now, I like watching Russian ballet dancers get kicked in the gut. A lot. But it would need to happen at least a dozen more times in this video before I'd be able to get over my aversion to the slow-fast-slow tempo changes of this schizophrenic dancing disaster. It's so bad it makes you want to stop dancing and start kung-fu fighting with your dance partner!
There are three kinds of people in the world. There are those that like to hear the first three minutes and 45 seconds of the slow rock ballad "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" with a fade-out ending before it gets into the fast-paced 1 minute and 20 seconds of the "Get Away" part of the song. Then there are those that think "Get Away" is the reward we get for listening to the first three minutes and 45 seconds of the song. Which one are you?
I'm more of the latter than the former. If you are just listening to it in your room or if the song is on the radio, "Get Away" should always, ALWAYS be played at the end. It is a rocking, piano-and-brass-filled aural treat that produces tingly goosebumps and an invigorating jolt of energy.
One of my favorite memories of my cousin Randy is when this song came over the radio late one night as we were laying on our beds listening to music before going to sleep. When "Get Away" started playing, we both whooped with joy, cranked up the volume, air-drummed the lead-in, and then windmilled the power chords like Pete Townshend. After that, we started air-drumming more and more vigorously until we ended up jumping up and down on our beds and dancing around the room while laughing like the fools we were. It was a great spontaneous moment when we just let loose and enjoyed music as only teenagers can.
For me, there is only one situation in which I will not scream "Nooooo!" when the song fades out before "Get Away." You do NOT want to hear this last part of the song if you are slow dancing to the first part with someone you really like. If you don't like the person, any reason to get out of the clinch is a good one. But if you like the person, there is nothing more awkward than having to break off a slow dance mid-song to transition into a fast dance. The only thing worse is if the song goes from a slow dance to a fast dance and then back to a slow dance again. That is the absolute worst thing that can happen with a dance song. And I think someone should have told this to Lionel Richie before he wrote "Say You, Say Me." Yes, it won him an Oscar for Best Original Song back in '86, but at what price to humanity?
Which brings us to the third kind of person--people that like to dance to "Say You, Say Me." These people fully embraced irrationality a long, long time ago. What probably drove them to their special level of crazy was the music video to "Say You, Say Me," which features clips of Lionel singing into the camera alternated with scenes from the movie "White Knights." The movie starred dancers Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines, so you know it's got to be in the same genre as other famous 80s dance movies, like "Flashdance," "Dirty Dancing," and "Throw Mama From the Train." Now, I like watching Russian ballet dancers get kicked in the gut. A lot. But it would need to happen at least a dozen more times in this video before I'd be able to get over my aversion to the slow-fast-slow tempo changes of this schizophrenic dancing disaster. It's so bad it makes you want to stop dancing and start kung-fu fighting with your dance partner!
163. Don't don't don't let's start
163. "Get This Party Started" by Pink
Anyone who has been married for more than three minutes knows that in a marriage there are good times and there are not so good times. That's why the traditional Christian marriage vow includes the phrase "...for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health…." When I started graduate school at Utah State, I thought it was one of those "better" times for me, but what I didn't know was that it was a not-so-better time for my wife. When I found out how unhappy she was, she said it was in part because I didn't like to do things that she was interested in doing. I assured her that I was, in fact, very interested in spending time with her doing the things she liked. She just needed to give me a chance. A few days after I said this, Julie told me that she was going to her step aerobics class at the city rec center, and she wanted to know if I'd like to come take the class with her.
Now, if it had been a month earlier, I would have said "Have you lost your mind?! I'm a 275 pound guy on my best day, after missing two meals, and getting a really short haircut. I can barely climb the one flight of stairs to my office at work. There's no way I will ever be able to make it through 60 minutes of step aerobics. And besides that, I'll be this old fat guy in the class, and all the women will think it's kind of creepy for me to be standing around in the back of the room trying to catch my wind while they're all bouncing around doing step aerobics in front of me."
But it wasn't a month earlier. It was just a few days after. I really couldn't say no to this invitation. I promptly found a pair of sweats that still kind of fit me, swallowed what little manly man-pride I may have had left, and went to the class. When I stepped through the door, all the women in the class, except for the instructor, looked at me exactly the way I thought they would--with eyes that asked, "Are you lost or are you a pervert?" I stayed in the back of the class and tried to keep up with the moves as best I could, but I was a complete failure at doing anything other than stepping on and off the step.
See, that's what I thought you did in a step aerobics class. Step up. Step down. Step on. Step off. What else could a human being possibly do with a step? But no. I was wrong. So, so wrong. What actually happens in a step aerobics class is that the women do these very complex choreographed dance routines that look very exerciserish when women do them. But when guys do it, they don't look like they're exercising. They look like they're in an epileptic bizarro kung fu fight with Richard Simons…and Richard is winning. Anyway, women do these routines on and around the step, moving their arms and legs in unison, like what a high school drill team would do if a high school drill team had to navigate over and around a small hurdle over and over and over. Of course, there is a simple reason I was in pep band and not drill team in high school. I…don't…DANCE! However, I found out that day that while my dancing skills are minimal at best, I just happen to be an exceptional stumbler. And it turns out that's enough for a guy in a step aerobics class.
By the end of the first week, I figured out that if I took the spot at the front of the class over by the wall, the women in the room stopped giving me dirty looks and would feel more comfortable, since I wasn't behind them and couldn't possibly look at them without them seeing me seeing them. But I didn't look. I just kept my eyes locked on the instructor so that everybody, including my wife, could see exactly what I was (and wasn't) looking at during the routines. Julie was a bit shocked that I stuck with it all through that first week. When she wasn't able to attend one day the next week, she thought that I'd use it as an excuse to not go. But just to show her that I really was committed to the class (and to her), I still went by myself.
After the first month, the only embarrassing moment was the time I was doing jumping jacks on top of a step, and I managed to drive both my feet through the center of the particle board step. That's right. I was so fat I destroyed the step. They purchased new indestructible plastic steps the next week. Over time, I managed to loose more than 60 pounds by faithfully attending the class. All the women quit caring that I was even there, and it stopped being awkward for me. I got pretty buff doing the class over the next two years, as I'd hold 10 pound weights in my hands while doing the arm movements, which meant that my arms and shoulders got super-toned. I also got in good enough shape to start jogging again. I ended up running two marathons during that time. But all that stepping up and down took its toll on my knees. They started to hurt pretty bad, and when I went to the doc to find out what I needed to do to get the pain to go away, he said I had to stop running and quit the step aerobics class. When Julie heard those doctor's orders, she wouldn't let me go to the class anymore. She almost didn't allow me run the second marathon either, but she let me do it when I promised I'd stop running after I finished the marathon. And 26.2 miles later, I was done with running and the class. I eventually gained all the weight back, but my knees did get better, and I was able to walk without pain again.
What does this long aerobics class story have to do with this song? We used to do a pretty intense step routine to it, and it was my favorite workout song. Whenever I hear this song, it brings back memories of the class and that time in my life when I really committed myself to try to turn something worse into something better. Also, I simply like Pink. There's an authenticity to her music, lyrics, and singing that I really enjoy hearing. Every now and then I'll listen to the top-40 stations and a new Pink song will play. As soon as I figure out that it is Pink (the DJs never announce the artists anymore!), I always stop punching radio buttons and enjoy the music. But no song by Pink makes the old blood pump like "Get This Party Started." Why? Well, besides the Pavlovian aerobic response that developed over two years of synchronized stumbling, this song has that special musical ingredient in the chorus that always makes my heart go boom--Cowbell!
Get This Party Started
Anyone who has been married for more than three minutes knows that in a marriage there are good times and there are not so good times. That's why the traditional Christian marriage vow includes the phrase "...for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health…." When I started graduate school at Utah State, I thought it was one of those "better" times for me, but what I didn't know was that it was a not-so-better time for my wife. When I found out how unhappy she was, she said it was in part because I didn't like to do things that she was interested in doing. I assured her that I was, in fact, very interested in spending time with her doing the things she liked. She just needed to give me a chance. A few days after I said this, Julie told me that she was going to her step aerobics class at the city rec center, and she wanted to know if I'd like to come take the class with her.
Now, if it had been a month earlier, I would have said "Have you lost your mind?! I'm a 275 pound guy on my best day, after missing two meals, and getting a really short haircut. I can barely climb the one flight of stairs to my office at work. There's no way I will ever be able to make it through 60 minutes of step aerobics. And besides that, I'll be this old fat guy in the class, and all the women will think it's kind of creepy for me to be standing around in the back of the room trying to catch my wind while they're all bouncing around doing step aerobics in front of me."
But it wasn't a month earlier. It was just a few days after. I really couldn't say no to this invitation. I promptly found a pair of sweats that still kind of fit me, swallowed what little manly man-pride I may have had left, and went to the class. When I stepped through the door, all the women in the class, except for the instructor, looked at me exactly the way I thought they would--with eyes that asked, "Are you lost or are you a pervert?" I stayed in the back of the class and tried to keep up with the moves as best I could, but I was a complete failure at doing anything other than stepping on and off the step.
See, that's what I thought you did in a step aerobics class. Step up. Step down. Step on. Step off. What else could a human being possibly do with a step? But no. I was wrong. So, so wrong. What actually happens in a step aerobics class is that the women do these very complex choreographed dance routines that look very exerciserish when women do them. But when guys do it, they don't look like they're exercising. They look like they're in an epileptic bizarro kung fu fight with Richard Simons…and Richard is winning. Anyway, women do these routines on and around the step, moving their arms and legs in unison, like what a high school drill team would do if a high school drill team had to navigate over and around a small hurdle over and over and over. Of course, there is a simple reason I was in pep band and not drill team in high school. I…don't…DANCE! However, I found out that day that while my dancing skills are minimal at best, I just happen to be an exceptional stumbler. And it turns out that's enough for a guy in a step aerobics class.
By the end of the first week, I figured out that if I took the spot at the front of the class over by the wall, the women in the room stopped giving me dirty looks and would feel more comfortable, since I wasn't behind them and couldn't possibly look at them without them seeing me seeing them. But I didn't look. I just kept my eyes locked on the instructor so that everybody, including my wife, could see exactly what I was (and wasn't) looking at during the routines. Julie was a bit shocked that I stuck with it all through that first week. When she wasn't able to attend one day the next week, she thought that I'd use it as an excuse to not go. But just to show her that I really was committed to the class (and to her), I still went by myself.
After the first month, the only embarrassing moment was the time I was doing jumping jacks on top of a step, and I managed to drive both my feet through the center of the particle board step. That's right. I was so fat I destroyed the step. They purchased new indestructible plastic steps the next week. Over time, I managed to loose more than 60 pounds by faithfully attending the class. All the women quit caring that I was even there, and it stopped being awkward for me. I got pretty buff doing the class over the next two years, as I'd hold 10 pound weights in my hands while doing the arm movements, which meant that my arms and shoulders got super-toned. I also got in good enough shape to start jogging again. I ended up running two marathons during that time. But all that stepping up and down took its toll on my knees. They started to hurt pretty bad, and when I went to the doc to find out what I needed to do to get the pain to go away, he said I had to stop running and quit the step aerobics class. When Julie heard those doctor's orders, she wouldn't let me go to the class anymore. She almost didn't allow me run the second marathon either, but she let me do it when I promised I'd stop running after I finished the marathon. And 26.2 miles later, I was done with running and the class. I eventually gained all the weight back, but my knees did get better, and I was able to walk without pain again.
What does this long aerobics class story have to do with this song? We used to do a pretty intense step routine to it, and it was my favorite workout song. Whenever I hear this song, it brings back memories of the class and that time in my life when I really committed myself to try to turn something worse into something better. Also, I simply like Pink. There's an authenticity to her music, lyrics, and singing that I really enjoy hearing. Every now and then I'll listen to the top-40 stations and a new Pink song will play. As soon as I figure out that it is Pink (the DJs never announce the artists anymore!), I always stop punching radio buttons and enjoy the music. But no song by Pink makes the old blood pump like "Get This Party Started." Why? Well, besides the Pavlovian aerobic response that developed over two years of synchronized stumbling, this song has that special musical ingredient in the chorus that always makes my heart go boom--Cowbell!
Get This Party Started
Monday, June 29, 2015
164. Yes, it was a cruel, cruel summer
164. "Venus" by Robbie van Leeuwen, performed by Bananarama
This was another song from "The Lost Years" that I really, really liked when I got home. It didn't get much airplay in the summer of 1987 because the song had been released a year earlier. But when it did come on the radio, I would nearly rip the knob off trying to turn it up. I loved the synthesizer bass line mixed with the electronic drum sounds. And the women's voices screaming "Wah!" before the chorus was quite enjoyable.
Part of the reason I liked this song so much is because during my freshman year at Ricks I took a humanities course right before I left for Sweden. My favorite painting that we studied in that class was "The Birth of Venus" by Botticelli. It featured a young, serene Venus with long red hair being blown by the west wind over the ocean waves while standing sans clothing on a white, scalloped shell. The painting reminds me of the many aspects of love--the physical, emotional, and intellectual--and how it always seems to be emerging from the subconscious ocean but never quite touches the shore of conscious awareness. And no matter how hard we may try to dress it up as something else, we can never quite get the fabric of our choosing over its shoulders. This song reminded me of that painting.
I also liked the song because the women in Bananarama were really hot. I'd been on a mission for two years stuck in dumpy apartments with male companions, and we spent most of each day trying to not look at all of the gorgeous Swedish women that surrounded us. Two years of repressing normal feelings and forcing my eyes to look the other way produced a good amount of awkwardness around women when I got home. And even when I got home I didn't stay home for long, since the folks moved to Twin Falls three weeks after I returned. That meant I didn't know any "safe" girls that could introduce me to other girls that I might be interested in spending time with outside of a church building. Nor did I have much of an opportunity to interact with any young women, since I worked the night shift at the Tupperware plant in Jerome. I'd come home at 7:30 in the morning, watch MTV and movies until I passed out around noon, and try to stay sleep until 9:00 or 10:00 at night. Then I'd get up, shower, eat something that functioned as breakfast, and then head back to the Tupperware plant to start my next shift at 11:00 PM. I tried to stay on this same sleep schedule on my days off because it was hard to stay awake at work if I didn't. This all meant that I really didn't have any opportunity to date anyone, so the summer of 1987 was kind of a miserable time for me socially. Watching three beautiful Bananaramas dance in the Venus video turned out to be a very important part of my post-mission recovery efforts to get my libido back to normal levels for a 21-year-old single guy.
Need a cure for those after-mission love blahs? Wah! She's got it! Yeah, baby, she's got it!
This was another song from "The Lost Years" that I really, really liked when I got home. It didn't get much airplay in the summer of 1987 because the song had been released a year earlier. But when it did come on the radio, I would nearly rip the knob off trying to turn it up. I loved the synthesizer bass line mixed with the electronic drum sounds. And the women's voices screaming "Wah!" before the chorus was quite enjoyable.
Part of the reason I liked this song so much is because during my freshman year at Ricks I took a humanities course right before I left for Sweden. My favorite painting that we studied in that class was "The Birth of Venus" by Botticelli. It featured a young, serene Venus with long red hair being blown by the west wind over the ocean waves while standing sans clothing on a white, scalloped shell. The painting reminds me of the many aspects of love--the physical, emotional, and intellectual--and how it always seems to be emerging from the subconscious ocean but never quite touches the shore of conscious awareness. And no matter how hard we may try to dress it up as something else, we can never quite get the fabric of our choosing over its shoulders. This song reminded me of that painting.
I also liked the song because the women in Bananarama were really hot. I'd been on a mission for two years stuck in dumpy apartments with male companions, and we spent most of each day trying to not look at all of the gorgeous Swedish women that surrounded us. Two years of repressing normal feelings and forcing my eyes to look the other way produced a good amount of awkwardness around women when I got home. And even when I got home I didn't stay home for long, since the folks moved to Twin Falls three weeks after I returned. That meant I didn't know any "safe" girls that could introduce me to other girls that I might be interested in spending time with outside of a church building. Nor did I have much of an opportunity to interact with any young women, since I worked the night shift at the Tupperware plant in Jerome. I'd come home at 7:30 in the morning, watch MTV and movies until I passed out around noon, and try to stay sleep until 9:00 or 10:00 at night. Then I'd get up, shower, eat something that functioned as breakfast, and then head back to the Tupperware plant to start my next shift at 11:00 PM. I tried to stay on this same sleep schedule on my days off because it was hard to stay awake at work if I didn't. This all meant that I really didn't have any opportunity to date anyone, so the summer of 1987 was kind of a miserable time for me socially. Watching three beautiful Bananaramas dance in the Venus video turned out to be a very important part of my post-mission recovery efforts to get my libido back to normal levels for a 21-year-old single guy.
Need a cure for those after-mission love blahs? Wah! She's got it! Yeah, baby, she's got it!
165. Wee Beasties
165. "Fight for Your Right" by the Beastie Boys
Written as a pie-in-the-face parody of party-on rockers, this song is better than most of the rock songs it tries to lampoon.
Kick it!
Fight for Your Right
When I die, I don't want a funeral. Instead, I want my nieces and nephews to honor my memory by having a pie fight like the one in this video.
This song came out during what I call "The Lost Years"--the two years I was on a mission. In Sweden, I was able to hear some new American music that was playing in public places or on the TVs in people's houses, but my exposure to new songs during that time was quite limited. Sweden usually got American music and films well after it came out in the states, so a lot of the music I heard at the beginning of my mission was old stuff that I'd heard 6 months before I left. When I got back home to Idaho in May of 1987, there were a bunch of great 80s songs that were old to everyone else, but brand-spankin' new to me. "Fight for Your Right" was one of them. I found out about this song from my sister Ruth, who when I said I didn't want to go to a church-sponsored dance/party because it would be really lame, yelled out the line, "You gotta fight…for your right…to paaaarrrrrrrtaaay!" and then started to laugh out loud. I had no idea what was going on. Then I saw this video a couple days later, and it all made sense. (Post-mission reorientation required lots and lots of MTV and video rentals.)
While "Fight" is my favorite song from the boys, I think the best video is "Sabotage." If I thought I could have this much fun being in a hip-hop group and make videos spoofing old 70s television shows, I'd do it.
Sabotage
Fred Kelly is Bunny!
Written as a pie-in-the-face parody of party-on rockers, this song is better than most of the rock songs it tries to lampoon.
Kick it!
Fight for Your Right
When I die, I don't want a funeral. Instead, I want my nieces and nephews to honor my memory by having a pie fight like the one in this video.
This song came out during what I call "The Lost Years"--the two years I was on a mission. In Sweden, I was able to hear some new American music that was playing in public places or on the TVs in people's houses, but my exposure to new songs during that time was quite limited. Sweden usually got American music and films well after it came out in the states, so a lot of the music I heard at the beginning of my mission was old stuff that I'd heard 6 months before I left. When I got back home to Idaho in May of 1987, there were a bunch of great 80s songs that were old to everyone else, but brand-spankin' new to me. "Fight for Your Right" was one of them. I found out about this song from my sister Ruth, who when I said I didn't want to go to a church-sponsored dance/party because it would be really lame, yelled out the line, "You gotta fight…for your right…to paaaarrrrrrrtaaay!" and then started to laugh out loud. I had no idea what was going on. Then I saw this video a couple days later, and it all made sense. (Post-mission reorientation required lots and lots of MTV and video rentals.)
While "Fight" is my favorite song from the boys, I think the best video is "Sabotage." If I thought I could have this much fun being in a hip-hop group and make videos spoofing old 70s television shows, I'd do it.
Sabotage
Fred Kelly is Bunny!
Sunday, June 28, 2015
166. But did she sing "For Your Eyes Only?"
166. "Funky Cold Medina" by Tone-Loc
My affinity for this song centers entirely on the hook--a Foreigner "Hot Blooded" chord mixed with not one, but TWO cowbells! I can't turn the radio up fast enough when I hear that hook.
But as much as I love the hook, I'm not that crazy about the song lyrics. I have never really understood what the hell is going on in the story.
Break it down.
Tone-Loc can't get women. A dude at the bar takes pity on Loser-Loc and tells him about a powerful aphrodisiac. Tone-Loc is so excited about the elixir that he immediately tries out on his…dog?! You're already at a bar with lots of women! Why would you go home to first try it out on your dog?! Well, the dog immediately humps Tone-Loc's leg, which apparently Tone-Loc permits. After he's seen how effective the potion is on canines, Tone-Loc decides to go back to the bar and give the first woman he sees a shot of the love liquor. It works (no surprise there), so he takes the woman back home to have meaningless relations, but it turns out the woman is really a transgender man dressed as a woman (big surprise there), so Tone-Loc immediately ends the tryst. Having bombed-out at the bar, Tone-Loc decides his best course of action is to go on a dating game show, where he wins a dinner date. But before he can even get through the appetizers, she starts talking about getting married. It would seem to me this would be the optimal outcome for a guy that is seriously looking for love. But Tone-Loc flees the scene. Moral of the story: the absolute worst consequence of using effective love drugs is matrimony, which is even worse than being the object of mutt-love.
Dumb story. But awesome cowbell. And sometimes, the sins of the lyricist can be forgiven and forgotten if there is enough quality cowbell in the music.
Ya know what I'm saying'
That cowbell's a monster, y'all
My affinity for this song centers entirely on the hook--a Foreigner "Hot Blooded" chord mixed with not one, but TWO cowbells! I can't turn the radio up fast enough when I hear that hook.
But as much as I love the hook, I'm not that crazy about the song lyrics. I have never really understood what the hell is going on in the story.
Break it down.
Tone-Loc can't get women. A dude at the bar takes pity on Loser-Loc and tells him about a powerful aphrodisiac. Tone-Loc is so excited about the elixir that he immediately tries out on his…dog?! You're already at a bar with lots of women! Why would you go home to first try it out on your dog?! Well, the dog immediately humps Tone-Loc's leg, which apparently Tone-Loc permits. After he's seen how effective the potion is on canines, Tone-Loc decides to go back to the bar and give the first woman he sees a shot of the love liquor. It works (no surprise there), so he takes the woman back home to have meaningless relations, but it turns out the woman is really a transgender man dressed as a woman (big surprise there), so Tone-Loc immediately ends the tryst. Having bombed-out at the bar, Tone-Loc decides his best course of action is to go on a dating game show, where he wins a dinner date. But before he can even get through the appetizers, she starts talking about getting married. It would seem to me this would be the optimal outcome for a guy that is seriously looking for love. But Tone-Loc flees the scene. Moral of the story: the absolute worst consequence of using effective love drugs is matrimony, which is even worse than being the object of mutt-love.
Dumb story. But awesome cowbell. And sometimes, the sins of the lyricist can be forgiven and forgotten if there is enough quality cowbell in the music.
Ya know what I'm saying'
That cowbell's a monster, y'all
167. Patio of Doom
167. "Private Idaho" by the B-52s
Thanks to the Columbia Records and Tape Club, I was able to buy the B-52s album "Wild Planet" for a fraction of a single cent. That's how far we could stretch our money back in our high school days. Music was practically free!
The reason I bought "Wild Planet" was because I'd heard the song "Quiche Lorraine" on the radio and thought it was quite funny, both lyrically and musically. Also, in 1980 there were a very limited number of songs about a two-inch, dark green, run-away poodle with a strawberry-blonde fall (fall?) that wears sunglasses, a bonnet, and designer jeans with appliqués. Basic economics tells us that when there is a very small amount of a good, the demand for it will go way up. Economics also tells us that when the price of something goes down, the demand for it will go up. When you consider the rarity of wacky poodle songs in the 80s and the low price of joining the Columbia Records and Tape Club and getting 10 albums for a penny, I think I was pretty much compelled by the laws of economics to buy that album. However, after listening to the entire album a couple of times, it turned out "Quiche Lorraine" wasn't my favorite song. Begin a native Idahoan that spent a good portion of his summer in a blue, blue, blue pool full of strangers, "Private Idaho" quickly became the frontrunner.
I remember playing "Wild Planet" during a scout service project involving the painting of the Marley's house. I didn't expect everyone to like the album that much, so I wasn't shocked or disappointed when I was asked to turn it off. It was a different kind of new wave music that wouldn't become really popular until after the emergence of MTV.
I think "Cosmic Thing" is the B-52s best album. "Love Shack" is definitely their most popular song. But I think "Rock Lobster" has to be their most influential song, as it was an underground hit in the late 70s that made an impact on many other artists, including…John Lennon! He decided to come out of retirement and make music again after hearing "Rock Lobster," so without the lobster song, we probably wouldn't have "Double Fantasy," which has to be the greatest rock album ever…to have included Yoko Ono songs. The reason I chose "Private Idaho" to be on my top 200 list over most other B-52 songs is probably because Mrs. Marley indoctrinated us in 4th Grade Idaho history class to love the gem state and all of the beautiful things in it. And this song more than any other helped to keep Idaho beautiful in the 80s by warning all the new wave freaks to stay the hell out.
Thanks to the Columbia Records and Tape Club, I was able to buy the B-52s album "Wild Planet" for a fraction of a single cent. That's how far we could stretch our money back in our high school days. Music was practically free!
The reason I bought "Wild Planet" was because I'd heard the song "Quiche Lorraine" on the radio and thought it was quite funny, both lyrically and musically. Also, in 1980 there were a very limited number of songs about a two-inch, dark green, run-away poodle with a strawberry-blonde fall (fall?) that wears sunglasses, a bonnet, and designer jeans with appliqués. Basic economics tells us that when there is a very small amount of a good, the demand for it will go way up. Economics also tells us that when the price of something goes down, the demand for it will go up. When you consider the rarity of wacky poodle songs in the 80s and the low price of joining the Columbia Records and Tape Club and getting 10 albums for a penny, I think I was pretty much compelled by the laws of economics to buy that album. However, after listening to the entire album a couple of times, it turned out "Quiche Lorraine" wasn't my favorite song. Begin a native Idahoan that spent a good portion of his summer in a blue, blue, blue pool full of strangers, "Private Idaho" quickly became the frontrunner.
I remember playing "Wild Planet" during a scout service project involving the painting of the Marley's house. I didn't expect everyone to like the album that much, so I wasn't shocked or disappointed when I was asked to turn it off. It was a different kind of new wave music that wouldn't become really popular until after the emergence of MTV.
I think "Cosmic Thing" is the B-52s best album. "Love Shack" is definitely their most popular song. But I think "Rock Lobster" has to be their most influential song, as it was an underground hit in the late 70s that made an impact on many other artists, including…John Lennon! He decided to come out of retirement and make music again after hearing "Rock Lobster," so without the lobster song, we probably wouldn't have "Double Fantasy," which has to be the greatest rock album ever…to have included Yoko Ono songs. The reason I chose "Private Idaho" to be on my top 200 list over most other B-52 songs is probably because Mrs. Marley indoctrinated us in 4th Grade Idaho history class to love the gem state and all of the beautiful things in it. And this song more than any other helped to keep Idaho beautiful in the 80s by warning all the new wave freaks to stay the hell out.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
168. Hang on! Here come da devUL!
168. "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" by the Charlie Daniels Band
Top 10 Reasons The Devil Went Down to Georgia
10. Lookin' for a soul to steal.
9. Only state where it's legal to gamble with gold violins.
8. Site of professional stump-jumping tournament.
7. Hissin' fiddles.
6. Liked to hear demon disco band play Wonder Woman bass line.
5. Looking for work as a wildland firefighter.
4. Low mortgage rates.
3. Free-range chickens.
2. Friendly dogs.
1. Had to play at the Boar's Nest to get out of a speeding ticket.
This song came out about the same time that the Dukes of Hazzard started tearing up the Georgia landscape in the General Lee. I heard this song so many times while driving tractor that I have all of the lyrics memorized. It's a solid country song with an epic tale of good vs. evil, some wicked fast fiddlin', and oodles of southern twang. The only way this song could be improved is if it was about playing guitar instead of fiddle and if it was sung by Jerry Reed.
Keep singing, Jerry!
Top 10 Reasons The Devil Went Down to Georgia
10. Lookin' for a soul to steal.
9. Only state where it's legal to gamble with gold violins.
8. Site of professional stump-jumping tournament.
7. Hissin' fiddles.
6. Liked to hear demon disco band play Wonder Woman bass line.
5. Looking for work as a wildland firefighter.
4. Low mortgage rates.
3. Free-range chickens.
2. Friendly dogs.
1. Had to play at the Boar's Nest to get out of a speeding ticket.
This song came out about the same time that the Dukes of Hazzard started tearing up the Georgia landscape in the General Lee. I heard this song so many times while driving tractor that I have all of the lyrics memorized. It's a solid country song with an epic tale of good vs. evil, some wicked fast fiddlin', and oodles of southern twang. The only way this song could be improved is if it was about playing guitar instead of fiddle and if it was sung by Jerry Reed.
Keep singing, Jerry!
Friday, June 26, 2015
169. Fizzy Lifting Drinks
169. "Theme from The Dukes of Hazzard (Good Ol' Boys)" by Waylon Jennings
I watched The Dukes of Hazzard religiously from the time it premiered in 1979 until the fifth season character replacement debacle when Bo and Luke disappeared and Coy and Vance showed up. BOOOO!!! This song not only brings up many fond memories of the show (mostly of Daisy Duke in her Daisy Dukes), it also brings to remembrance how I used to drive like the Duke boys on our farmland and the gravel and dirt roads of Marsh Valley. I prefer the TV version over the longer version Waylon recorded commercially. The TV version has the banjo throughout and a hardy "Yeee-haw!" at the end on the intro. And the ending credits have Roscoe's distinctive laugh to close it all out.
The Dukes of Hazzard was one of the few shows on television that I could at least partially relate to. No, I didn't have a souped up car that could jump and/or fly over ravines and creek beds, but I did live on a farm outside of town, my wardrobe was very similar to what the Duke boys wore, and I had lots and lots of cousins with the same last name living in the same county.
Also, like the Duke family, my family had a long tradition of making alcoholic beverages from scratch. No, we didn't make moonshine. We made root beer, which my Mormon Mom assured us at that time was completely alcohol-free. But later in life, when my own son did a 5th grade science report on how root beer gets its fizz, I found out that if you put yeast and sugar together then the yeast will turn lots of those sugar molecules into alcohol molecules and fizz molecules. The more fizz in the drink, the more alcohol. And Mom used to let the root beer cure in the basement until it was super-fizzy--to the point that some of the bottles exploded (one reason we wrapped them in quilts). Mom still believes there was no alcohol in our strange brew to this day, even though I've explained to her that it is chemically impossible for us to have created fizzy root beer without any alcohol. So, while we weren't bona fide moonshiners, we did make and transport alcoholic beverages of our own making, and we did serve them to kin and friends when they came over to the house, which I guess made our home kind of like the Boars Nest, only without a steady stream of country stars performing their biggest hits live in order to get out of speeding tickets. Yessiree, if you ever drank a bottle or glass of root beer from the Olson family, then you were drinking some of the finest Mormonshine in Idaho!
Yeeeeee-haaaaaaawww!
I watched The Dukes of Hazzard religiously from the time it premiered in 1979 until the fifth season character replacement debacle when Bo and Luke disappeared and Coy and Vance showed up. BOOOO!!! This song not only brings up many fond memories of the show (mostly of Daisy Duke in her Daisy Dukes), it also brings to remembrance how I used to drive like the Duke boys on our farmland and the gravel and dirt roads of Marsh Valley. I prefer the TV version over the longer version Waylon recorded commercially. The TV version has the banjo throughout and a hardy "Yeee-haw!" at the end on the intro. And the ending credits have Roscoe's distinctive laugh to close it all out.
The Dukes of Hazzard was one of the few shows on television that I could at least partially relate to. No, I didn't have a souped up car that could jump and/or fly over ravines and creek beds, but I did live on a farm outside of town, my wardrobe was very similar to what the Duke boys wore, and I had lots and lots of cousins with the same last name living in the same county.
Also, like the Duke family, my family had a long tradition of making alcoholic beverages from scratch. No, we didn't make moonshine. We made root beer, which my Mormon Mom assured us at that time was completely alcohol-free. But later in life, when my own son did a 5th grade science report on how root beer gets its fizz, I found out that if you put yeast and sugar together then the yeast will turn lots of those sugar molecules into alcohol molecules and fizz molecules. The more fizz in the drink, the more alcohol. And Mom used to let the root beer cure in the basement until it was super-fizzy--to the point that some of the bottles exploded (one reason we wrapped them in quilts). Mom still believes there was no alcohol in our strange brew to this day, even though I've explained to her that it is chemically impossible for us to have created fizzy root beer without any alcohol. So, while we weren't bona fide moonshiners, we did make and transport alcoholic beverages of our own making, and we did serve them to kin and friends when they came over to the house, which I guess made our home kind of like the Boars Nest, only without a steady stream of country stars performing their biggest hits live in order to get out of speeding tickets. Yessiree, if you ever drank a bottle or glass of root beer from the Olson family, then you were drinking some of the finest Mormonshine in Idaho!
Yeeeeee-haaaaaaawww!
170. Yo-ho! Yo-ho! A pirate's life for me!
170. "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys
Can anyone resist singing along with this song? No. They can't. Because this song has three sing-along phrases that few other songs have.
1. Giddy up.
2. Oom poppa oom poppa mow mow.
3. Hi-yo Silver, away!
Each of these phrases individually would be giant fun to sing on their own. The genius of the Oak Ridge Boys is that they took all three and sang them in a row with a deep bass voice sounding out the oom poppa mow mow. With most songs the sing-along challenge is to see if you can strain your voice to get as high as the lead singer on that super-high note (e.g. Freddy Mercury singing "For me!" on Bohemian Rhapsody). This song turns that challenge on its head. The question with this song is "How low can you go?"
I always thought the Oak Ridge Boys sang out the Lone Ranger call of "Hi-ho Silver, away!" But in doing my extensive research for this song, I found a couple Dave Barry columns that say Lone actually yelled "Hi-yo" not "Hi-ho."
http://articles.baltimoresun.com/2000-04-30/news/0005090324_1_lone-ranger-yo-horoscope
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/WPcap/2000-06/18/093r-061800-idx.html
But even with this revelation, I still may sing "Hi-ho" instead of "Hi-yo," because "Hi-yo" kind of sounds to me like a lyric from a Vanilla Ice rap.
"Hi-yo! Kick it!"
Can anyone resist singing along with this song? No. They can't. Because this song has three sing-along phrases that few other songs have.
1. Giddy up.
2. Oom poppa oom poppa mow mow.
3. Hi-yo Silver, away!
Each of these phrases individually would be giant fun to sing on their own. The genius of the Oak Ridge Boys is that they took all three and sang them in a row with a deep bass voice sounding out the oom poppa mow mow. With most songs the sing-along challenge is to see if you can strain your voice to get as high as the lead singer on that super-high note (e.g. Freddy Mercury singing "For me!" on Bohemian Rhapsody). This song turns that challenge on its head. The question with this song is "How low can you go?"
I always thought the Oak Ridge Boys sang out the Lone Ranger call of "Hi-ho Silver, away!" But in doing my extensive research for this song, I found a couple Dave Barry columns that say Lone actually yelled "Hi-yo" not "Hi-ho."
http://articles.baltimoresun.com/2000-04-30/news/0005090324_1_lone-ranger-yo-horoscope
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/WPcap/2000-06/18/093r-061800-idx.html
But even with this revelation, I still may sing "Hi-ho" instead of "Hi-yo," because "Hi-yo" kind of sounds to me like a lyric from a Vanilla Ice rap.
"Hi-yo! Kick it!"
Thursday, June 25, 2015
171. Dancing in the dark
171. "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice
"Under Pressure" by Queen (song #184 on the HondoJoe Top 200) probably would have made it onto this list if it hadn't been for "Ice Ice Baby." Vanilla Ice knocked it out of consideration because he sampled "Under Pressure" so heavily on this song that over the years it kind of dragged down my enjoyment of "Under Pressure." Now, why would I choose a song that samples "Under Pressure" over the actual song performed by Queen? Well, first, let me state that I'll readily admit that "Under Pressure" is a much, much better song than "Ice Ice Baby." The music is better. The lyrics are better. The video is better. I mean, GEEZ! The "Ice Ice Baby" video is so dark that I can barely see any of the dance moves! The only things I can even half-way see are walls of graffiti and the clips of him driving his white convertible...in front of more walls of graffiti.
Ice Ice Baby Video
The only reason "Ice Ice Baby" makes it onto this list is because of a brief personal connection I made with Vanilla Ice at the Salt Lake City airport. I was flying back to Kansas City after a job interview in Idaho, and the lady at the ticket counter asked if anyone would be willing to give up their seat so another passenger could get on the flight. I figured that since I was jobless, I really didn't have to be anywhere the next day, and the airline would pay for my stay at a local hotel that night and give me free airfare on a future flight. It sounded like a good deal to me, so I told them I'd give up my seat. But I still had to wait in line in case somebody didn't show up for their flight and there was room for me on the plane. So I stood at the back of the line next to this dude wearing what looked to me like a skater outfit and a baseball cap. He had tattoos all over his arms and legs and earrings in each ear. I remember thinking that he looked a little old to be wearing skater clothes, but maybe he was a snowboarder that had come to Utah to take advantage of some October snow. After he boarded the plane, I asked the woman at the ticket counter if they still needed my seat. She said that they did, since the last passenger had taken my seat. There was another guy at the counter who had given up his seat as well. He said to the two ladies behind the ticket counter, "Was that Vanilla Ice?" The lady said yes and smiled a little bit. Then the guy said, "Is he still performing?" I replied, "Yeah, I heard he rocks the mic like a vandal!" That got the guy and the ladies behind the counter laughing out loud.
Out of all the celebrities I could have met in my life, it turns out Fate selected Vanilla Ice, and even when I was meeting him I didn't even know who he was until he was out of sight, on the plane, sitting in my seat, eating my peanuts, and drinking my quarter-can of Sprite. For some reason, I get an enormous kick out of the fact that the biggest celebrity encounter of my life would be someone as lame as Vanilla Ice. Whenever I hear those opening measures of "Ice Ice Baby," I can't help but smile as I turn up the music and recall the time I got screwed over by Fate but managed to tell a Vanilla Ice joke that made three strangers chuckle, which I think is as close as Fate will let me get to fulfilling my fantasy of being a stand-up comedian. For me, this experience kind of symbolizes what I think is a major life lesson for me--you better find some amusement in life's disappointments, because if you don't laugh, you'll end up crying.
Yo! Let's get out of here. Word to your mother!
"Under Pressure" by Queen (song #184 on the HondoJoe Top 200) probably would have made it onto this list if it hadn't been for "Ice Ice Baby." Vanilla Ice knocked it out of consideration because he sampled "Under Pressure" so heavily on this song that over the years it kind of dragged down my enjoyment of "Under Pressure." Now, why would I choose a song that samples "Under Pressure" over the actual song performed by Queen? Well, first, let me state that I'll readily admit that "Under Pressure" is a much, much better song than "Ice Ice Baby." The music is better. The lyrics are better. The video is better. I mean, GEEZ! The "Ice Ice Baby" video is so dark that I can barely see any of the dance moves! The only things I can even half-way see are walls of graffiti and the clips of him driving his white convertible...in front of more walls of graffiti.
Ice Ice Baby Video
The only reason "Ice Ice Baby" makes it onto this list is because of a brief personal connection I made with Vanilla Ice at the Salt Lake City airport. I was flying back to Kansas City after a job interview in Idaho, and the lady at the ticket counter asked if anyone would be willing to give up their seat so another passenger could get on the flight. I figured that since I was jobless, I really didn't have to be anywhere the next day, and the airline would pay for my stay at a local hotel that night and give me free airfare on a future flight. It sounded like a good deal to me, so I told them I'd give up my seat. But I still had to wait in line in case somebody didn't show up for their flight and there was room for me on the plane. So I stood at the back of the line next to this dude wearing what looked to me like a skater outfit and a baseball cap. He had tattoos all over his arms and legs and earrings in each ear. I remember thinking that he looked a little old to be wearing skater clothes, but maybe he was a snowboarder that had come to Utah to take advantage of some October snow. After he boarded the plane, I asked the woman at the ticket counter if they still needed my seat. She said that they did, since the last passenger had taken my seat. There was another guy at the counter who had given up his seat as well. He said to the two ladies behind the ticket counter, "Was that Vanilla Ice?" The lady said yes and smiled a little bit. Then the guy said, "Is he still performing?" I replied, "Yeah, I heard he rocks the mic like a vandal!" That got the guy and the ladies behind the counter laughing out loud.
Out of all the celebrities I could have met in my life, it turns out Fate selected Vanilla Ice, and even when I was meeting him I didn't even know who he was until he was out of sight, on the plane, sitting in my seat, eating my peanuts, and drinking my quarter-can of Sprite. For some reason, I get an enormous kick out of the fact that the biggest celebrity encounter of my life would be someone as lame as Vanilla Ice. Whenever I hear those opening measures of "Ice Ice Baby," I can't help but smile as I turn up the music and recall the time I got screwed over by Fate but managed to tell a Vanilla Ice joke that made three strangers chuckle, which I think is as close as Fate will let me get to fulfilling my fantasy of being a stand-up comedian. For me, this experience kind of symbolizes what I think is a major life lesson for me--you better find some amusement in life's disappointments, because if you don't laugh, you'll end up crying.
Yo! Let's get out of here. Word to your mother!
172. Peas! Peas! Peas! Peas! Eatin' goober peas!
172. "Legend of The One-Eyed Sailor" by Chuck Mangione
You might think that "Feels So Good" or "Give It All You Got" would be the Chuck Mangione songs that made me want to take the money I earned from my first summer of lifeguarding and buy a flugelhorn. But you'd be wrong. It was "Legend of the One-Eyed Sailor."
The decision to purchase a flugelhorn came one evening while I was waiting in the car for someone (probably Mom or Dad) to come out of the church and drive me home. In those days, listening to the radio in the car was about the only option to stay entertained while waiting for parents to stop their drawn-out church chats. If we were at the church during a weekday and Mom or Dad said, "Wait for me in the car," the next words out of my mouth were, "Can I have the keys so I can listen to the radio?" On this particular evening I was moving up and down the dial looking for something good to listen to, and I landed on a jazz station. I thought, "What the heck, I'm in band, I'll listen to some jazz for a while." After a couple of songs, Chuck Mangione's "Legend of The One-Eyed Sailor" came on. I really enjoyed hearing the minute-long flugelhorn solo during the first part of the song, and I thought the song was going to end with it at about the 4-minute mark, since DJs usually don't play songs that go longer than that. Once in a while, you might hear a few songs that extend beyond 5 minutes, but as Billy says, "If your gonna have a hit, you gotta make it fit, so they cut it down to 3:05." Well, this song didn't stop after the flugelhorn solo. It went on for another 4 minutes. At the time, I think it was the longest song I had ever heard on the radio, and I probably could have listened to another 8 minutes of it. I loved the sound of the flugelhorn on this song so much that I decided at the end of it that I was going to buy me one. I also went to Grand Central and bought me a copy of Chuck's album "Tarentella," which featured this song, and listened to it over and over.
The album also had a few songs with Dizzy Gillespie, one of the greatest trumpet players ever. Simply put, Chuck loves Dizzy. So much that he wears a gold medallion around his neck of Dizzy's trumpet with the bell bent up at a 45-degree angle. But Chuck doesn't puff out his cheeks like Dizzy when he plays. Only Dizzy can do that.
While Dizzy didn't make my top 200 list with any songs, I must admit that I especially enjoy "Salt Peanuts." There's something about the sound of lightning-fast be-bop mixed with the image of salty goobers that I find irresistible!
By the way, I remember in elementary school that we had to learn to sing part of the Civil War song "Goober Peas." Now, our elementary school teachers didn't have time to teach us everything, so they would have to select only those things that they thought were most important for us to succeed in life. And for some reason, they thought learning this song was more important than learning the metric system. Burl and Johnny would agree.
You might think that "Feels So Good" or "Give It All You Got" would be the Chuck Mangione songs that made me want to take the money I earned from my first summer of lifeguarding and buy a flugelhorn. But you'd be wrong. It was "Legend of the One-Eyed Sailor."
The decision to purchase a flugelhorn came one evening while I was waiting in the car for someone (probably Mom or Dad) to come out of the church and drive me home. In those days, listening to the radio in the car was about the only option to stay entertained while waiting for parents to stop their drawn-out church chats. If we were at the church during a weekday and Mom or Dad said, "Wait for me in the car," the next words out of my mouth were, "Can I have the keys so I can listen to the radio?" On this particular evening I was moving up and down the dial looking for something good to listen to, and I landed on a jazz station. I thought, "What the heck, I'm in band, I'll listen to some jazz for a while." After a couple of songs, Chuck Mangione's "Legend of The One-Eyed Sailor" came on. I really enjoyed hearing the minute-long flugelhorn solo during the first part of the song, and I thought the song was going to end with it at about the 4-minute mark, since DJs usually don't play songs that go longer than that. Once in a while, you might hear a few songs that extend beyond 5 minutes, but as Billy says, "If your gonna have a hit, you gotta make it fit, so they cut it down to 3:05." Well, this song didn't stop after the flugelhorn solo. It went on for another 4 minutes. At the time, I think it was the longest song I had ever heard on the radio, and I probably could have listened to another 8 minutes of it. I loved the sound of the flugelhorn on this song so much that I decided at the end of it that I was going to buy me one. I also went to Grand Central and bought me a copy of Chuck's album "Tarentella," which featured this song, and listened to it over and over.
 |
| I'm so happy I'm blurred! |
 |
| Have you hugged your flugelhorn today? |
 |
| They're gonna blow! |
By the way, I remember in elementary school that we had to learn to sing part of the Civil War song "Goober Peas." Now, our elementary school teachers didn't have time to teach us everything, so they would have to select only those things that they thought were most important for us to succeed in life. And for some reason, they thought learning this song was more important than learning the metric system. Burl and Johnny would agree.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
173. I am that merry wanderer of the night
173. "Fields of Gold" by Sting.
In the summer of 1993, Julie and I came to Boise so she could take her exam to become a registered nurse. I remember seeing this video at the hotel on the morning of the test and hearing it played on the radio that weekend. After Julie finished the all-day exam, we attended the Shakespeare festival in Boise and saw the play "A Midsummer Night's Dream." That was a really good weekend together, and I remember it with fondness. The Good Book directs young men to "Rejoice in the wife of thy youth," and this song triggers memories of the many good times we had during the early years of our marriage.
This song is Sting at his best. The dreamy composition is well-crafted, with some sparkling acoustic guitar parts and a couple of surprise appearances by the bagpipe. And the lyrics are quite poetic in both sound and meaning. However, having actually raised barley on our farm a couple times, I was a little amused at all the barley references in this song. Walking through a field of golden barley is not really a pleasurable experience. The dry, brittle stalks do not feel good brushing up against your body, and the hulls surrounding the seeds have long spikes that stick you.
If you are walking through a field of harvest-ready barley, and you aren't wearing gloves and a long-sleeved shirt, better keep your hands and lower arms above the grain, or all those prickly barely heads will irritate the hell out of any exposed skin. While it may sound romantic to make love while laying down in a field of ripe barley heads, the actual physical sensation of doing so would not be an experience you'd want to reminisce about later. No, it wouldn't feel good at all. In fact, it would sting.
In the summer of 1993, Julie and I came to Boise so she could take her exam to become a registered nurse. I remember seeing this video at the hotel on the morning of the test and hearing it played on the radio that weekend. After Julie finished the all-day exam, we attended the Shakespeare festival in Boise and saw the play "A Midsummer Night's Dream." That was a really good weekend together, and I remember it with fondness. The Good Book directs young men to "Rejoice in the wife of thy youth," and this song triggers memories of the many good times we had during the early years of our marriage.
This song is Sting at his best. The dreamy composition is well-crafted, with some sparkling acoustic guitar parts and a couple of surprise appearances by the bagpipe. And the lyrics are quite poetic in both sound and meaning. However, having actually raised barley on our farm a couple times, I was a little amused at all the barley references in this song. Walking through a field of golden barley is not really a pleasurable experience. The dry, brittle stalks do not feel good brushing up against your body, and the hulls surrounding the seeds have long spikes that stick you.
If you are walking through a field of harvest-ready barley, and you aren't wearing gloves and a long-sleeved shirt, better keep your hands and lower arms above the grain, or all those prickly barely heads will irritate the hell out of any exposed skin. While it may sound romantic to make love while laying down in a field of ripe barley heads, the actual physical sensation of doing so would not be an experience you'd want to reminisce about later. No, it wouldn't feel good at all. In fact, it would sting.
174. Stick out your tongue and say "uh-uh"
174. "Emotional Rescue" by The Rolling Stones
After four beautiful women all in a row, it's time to rip the beauty band-aid off and experience a little bit of the ugliness of rock 'n roll. And who better to do that than a wild-eyed, pouty-lipped Mick Jagger? Yes, ladies, if you are experiencing intense emotional distress, he's the man to come to your rescue.
There are few guaranteed things in life, but one of them is my ability to make my wife laugh by trying (and failing) to sing any rock song in a high falsetto. On this song, I'm a riot. Also, this is one of those rare gems that I can sing along with (while my wife chuckles) and think, "I might just sound better than this guy!"
But there is a lot of good stuff going on in this song that makes it a very enjoyable listen. The bass line supplies just the right amount of disco funk. The sexy sax solo is so good that it transcends time and space, as evidenced by the fact that the gyrating sax player keeps popping in and out of camera throughout the video. He's there…no, he's gone…there he is…where did he go?…right there…I don't see him!…oh, he's by the door. Maybe that's what's going on. He only comes into the room when the sax part needs to be played. A completely invisible keyboardist lays down some nice bits that help fill out the sound when the lead and rhythm guitarists take a break to guzzle some whiskey and powder their nostrils. There's the background "uh-uhs" that are loads of fun to sing. And the spoken part is tremendously entertaining, especially if you've ever had fantasies of being a knight in shining armor and/or a deranged stalker, riding across the desert on a fine Arab chaaaaaaahjaaahh while chanting "You will be mine, you will be mine, all mine!"
Yes, the only thing that would make that fantasy more wonderfuller is if it could all take place in strobing thermo-vision. Because how can I come to my love's emotional rescue if I don't first put her into an epileptic seizure?
The Rolling Stones: Emotional Rescue (Full Thermo-Vision Version)
After four beautiful women all in a row, it's time to rip the beauty band-aid off and experience a little bit of the ugliness of rock 'n roll. And who better to do that than a wild-eyed, pouty-lipped Mick Jagger? Yes, ladies, if you are experiencing intense emotional distress, he's the man to come to your rescue.
There are few guaranteed things in life, but one of them is my ability to make my wife laugh by trying (and failing) to sing any rock song in a high falsetto. On this song, I'm a riot. Also, this is one of those rare gems that I can sing along with (while my wife chuckles) and think, "I might just sound better than this guy!"
But there is a lot of good stuff going on in this song that makes it a very enjoyable listen. The bass line supplies just the right amount of disco funk. The sexy sax solo is so good that it transcends time and space, as evidenced by the fact that the gyrating sax player keeps popping in and out of camera throughout the video. He's there…no, he's gone…there he is…where did he go?…right there…I don't see him!…oh, he's by the door. Maybe that's what's going on. He only comes into the room when the sax part needs to be played. A completely invisible keyboardist lays down some nice bits that help fill out the sound when the lead and rhythm guitarists take a break to guzzle some whiskey and powder their nostrils. There's the background "uh-uhs" that are loads of fun to sing. And the spoken part is tremendously entertaining, especially if you've ever had fantasies of being a knight in shining armor and/or a deranged stalker, riding across the desert on a fine Arab chaaaaaaahjaaahh while chanting "You will be mine, you will be mine, all mine!"
Yes, the only thing that would make that fantasy more wonderfuller is if it could all take place in strobing thermo-vision. Because how can I come to my love's emotional rescue if I don't first put her into an epileptic seizure?
The Rolling Stones: Emotional Rescue (Full Thermo-Vision Version)
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
175. ¡Klaus, usted cerdo perezoso, bajar el sofá!
175. "Besame Mucho" by Consuelo Velázquez, performed by Diana Krall
Imagine that you are soaking in a tub of water that is at the perfect temperature while warm, smooth, sweet, blonde butter is being gently poured into your ears. That's how this song makes me feel. I don't remember the first time I saw or heard Diana Krall, but it got enough of my attention for me to go to the record store and see what albums she had. When I saw the cover of "The Look of Love" I immediately knew I had to get it. You see, I'm a HUGE fan of couches, and the album cover had this gorgeous black divan on it.
All of the songs on this jazz album are very good--it's her best selling album--and she plays piano on all of them. But when I heard "Besame Mucho," I thought to myself, "If a woman was deeply in love with me, and she really wanted to express her feelings in music, this is exactly the way I would want a woman to sing to me, especially if I spoke Spanish."
Unfortunately, I don't speak Spanish, so the true meaning of the lyrics are lost on me. But I believe the line "Bésame, bésame mucho" translated literally means "Sit down, sit down on the couch with me."
Imagine that you are soaking in a tub of water that is at the perfect temperature while warm, smooth, sweet, blonde butter is being gently poured into your ears. That's how this song makes me feel. I don't remember the first time I saw or heard Diana Krall, but it got enough of my attention for me to go to the record store and see what albums she had. When I saw the cover of "The Look of Love" I immediately knew I had to get it. You see, I'm a HUGE fan of couches, and the album cover had this gorgeous black divan on it.
All of the songs on this jazz album are very good--it's her best selling album--and she plays piano on all of them. But when I heard "Besame Mucho," I thought to myself, "If a woman was deeply in love with me, and she really wanted to express her feelings in music, this is exactly the way I would want a woman to sing to me, especially if I spoke Spanish."
Unfortunately, I don't speak Spanish, so the true meaning of the lyrics are lost on me. But I believe the line "Bésame, bésame mucho" translated literally means "Sit down, sit down on the couch with me."
Saturday, June 20, 2015
176. Hera, give me strength!
176. "Wonder Woman Theme Song" by Charles Fox (composer) and Norman Gimbel (Lyrics).
No television show introduction was enjoyed by all of my brothers and sisters as much as the opening comic book sequence and theme song to the first season of Wonder Woman. And the theme song was also cued up anytime Diana Prince took off her hat, flipped her hair out to its full length, and started spinning round and round until her costume blasted into place. In later seasons, the television studios thought they would spice things up a little bit and change the lyrics or the music, but none of the other three versions of the theme song were ever as good as the original.
In the 1970s, if you had asked all the children in the the U.S. to vote on who was the woman they would most like to be when they grow up, Lynda Carter would have won by a landslide. Even though the show only lasted three seasons in the 70s, I think it has had a huge positive impact on our culture and the way we think about women today. That's because Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman was exciting and inspiring and powerful--everything we look for in a superhero.
The music in the show also reflected those qualities. It was composed by Charles Fox, who wrote the music for many other memorable television show themes, including Love American Style, Happy Days, Lavern and Shirley, the Love Boat. He had a few Top 40 hits with "Killing Me Softly With His Song" by Roberta Black and "Ready to Take a Chance Again" by Barry Manilow. He also scored a lot of films, including Foul Play, 9 to 5, and...Strange Brew! Beauty, eh?!
Now, since this top 200 list is being published in the onternet, available for anyone to read, I would like to take this opportunity to write a quick letter of thanks to Lynda Carter, just in case she happens to read this.
-----
Dear Lynda,
I would like to thank you very much for your excellent portrayal of Wonder Woman. As a 10-year-old boy, you inspired me and all of my brothers and sisters to be better people and to respect and honor the power that women have to change the world. Now, as an adult, I pass on my appreciation for your work to my nieces and nephews. Last year I gave one of my nieces a Wonder Woman t-shirt. When she wore it to school the next day, all of the kids and all of the teachers told her how much they liked it. I know that is because when they see that Wonder Woman logo on the shirt, they're thinking of you. And my niece feels empowered when she wears the shirt, not because she thinks the shirt has any special power, but because the shirt lets the world know that she is ready to show us all of the strength, talent, and beauty that is inside her. Thank you for making that possible!
No television show introduction was enjoyed by all of my brothers and sisters as much as the opening comic book sequence and theme song to the first season of Wonder Woman. And the theme song was also cued up anytime Diana Prince took off her hat, flipped her hair out to its full length, and started spinning round and round until her costume blasted into place. In later seasons, the television studios thought they would spice things up a little bit and change the lyrics or the music, but none of the other three versions of the theme song were ever as good as the original.
In the 1970s, if you had asked all the children in the the U.S. to vote on who was the woman they would most like to be when they grow up, Lynda Carter would have won by a landslide. Even though the show only lasted three seasons in the 70s, I think it has had a huge positive impact on our culture and the way we think about women today. That's because Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman was exciting and inspiring and powerful--everything we look for in a superhero.
The music in the show also reflected those qualities. It was composed by Charles Fox, who wrote the music for many other memorable television show themes, including Love American Style, Happy Days, Lavern and Shirley, the Love Boat. He had a few Top 40 hits with "Killing Me Softly With His Song" by Roberta Black and "Ready to Take a Chance Again" by Barry Manilow. He also scored a lot of films, including Foul Play, 9 to 5, and...Strange Brew! Beauty, eh?!
Now, since this top 200 list is being published in the onternet, available for anyone to read, I would like to take this opportunity to write a quick letter of thanks to Lynda Carter, just in case she happens to read this.
-----
Dear Lynda,
I would like to thank you very much for your excellent portrayal of Wonder Woman. As a 10-year-old boy, you inspired me and all of my brothers and sisters to be better people and to respect and honor the power that women have to change the world. Now, as an adult, I pass on my appreciation for your work to my nieces and nephews. Last year I gave one of my nieces a Wonder Woman t-shirt. When she wore it to school the next day, all of the kids and all of the teachers told her how much they liked it. I know that is because when they see that Wonder Woman logo on the shirt, they're thinking of you. And my niece feels empowered when she wears the shirt, not because she thinks the shirt has any special power, but because the shirt lets the world know that she is ready to show us all of the strength, talent, and beauty that is inside her. Thank you for making that possible!
177. Sheila vs Leah
177. "Hot Legs" by Rod Stewart.
There's only one person that is responsible for this song making it into my top 200--Delvene Delaney. Without the memory of Delvene strutting to this song on the Paul Hogan show, it wouldn't even come close to making the list. It would be in the outer rim of the solar system keeping company with Donnie Iris's "Ah Leah."
-----
My wife just walked into the room while I was listening to "Ah Leah" and wondering if I should include a link to the goofy video in this post. She asked, "Are they singing about diarrhea?" Legitimate question. I watched the video again and substituted the word "diarrhea" for "Ah Leah." You try.
Donnie Iris video: Ah Leah
I have to say the lyrics actually work pretty well with that substitution, especially the choruses and the part at the end of the song when he starts screaming. Julie's suggested one-word lyric replacement may have just shifted the position of "Ah Leah" in the solar system so that it's orbit is now in the neighborhood of the gas giants.
Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
-----
Sunday night at 10:30 was a special family time in our house. All the kids had to go to bed but me, and Mom would stay out of the living room because she didn't like the fact that I was watching the Paul Hogan show. When it first started showing, she saw some of it. But what she saw was much too randy for her, and she didn't think it met church standards, which it definitely didn't. But lucky for me, my Dad served a mission in Australia, and he pretty much loved watching anything on TV if it came from Australia. Dad overruled Mom's objection since he was watching it with me and could turn it off if there were any really naughty parts. That meant I got to stay up late and watch the show with Dad. We had kind of had an unspoken agreement that if anything risqué did come on, he'd let me watch it as long as we were sure Mom wouldn't find out about it. But Mom did catch us once while watching the Hot Legs skit, and she started scolding Dad and me. But he put a quick stop to the tongue-lashing without even getting out of the easy chair by saying something like, "Oh, Roberta, just let us watch our show. It isn't going to do Daren any harm." Mom stormed off with a parting "Oh, Earl!" in her best I'm-so-disgusted voice. Within 30 seconds, Dad was roaring again at the skit. After that, Mom didn't protest my watching of the show any more, including the...
"Hot Legs" skit.
Thanks to Dad, every time "Hot Legs" is playing on the radio, I am now able to imagine Delvene Delaney wandering around some Australian town, apparently for no particular reason, and creating mayhem among the male populace by distracting them with the funnest legs to watch on TV. Fair dinkum!
There's only one person that is responsible for this song making it into my top 200--Delvene Delaney. Without the memory of Delvene strutting to this song on the Paul Hogan show, it wouldn't even come close to making the list. It would be in the outer rim of the solar system keeping company with Donnie Iris's "Ah Leah."
-----
My wife just walked into the room while I was listening to "Ah Leah" and wondering if I should include a link to the goofy video in this post. She asked, "Are they singing about diarrhea?" Legitimate question. I watched the video again and substituted the word "diarrhea" for "Ah Leah." You try.
Donnie Iris video: Ah Leah
I have to say the lyrics actually work pretty well with that substitution, especially the choruses and the part at the end of the song when he starts screaming. Julie's suggested one-word lyric replacement may have just shifted the position of "Ah Leah" in the solar system so that it's orbit is now in the neighborhood of the gas giants.
Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
-----
Sunday night at 10:30 was a special family time in our house. All the kids had to go to bed but me, and Mom would stay out of the living room because she didn't like the fact that I was watching the Paul Hogan show. When it first started showing, she saw some of it. But what she saw was much too randy for her, and she didn't think it met church standards, which it definitely didn't. But lucky for me, my Dad served a mission in Australia, and he pretty much loved watching anything on TV if it came from Australia. Dad overruled Mom's objection since he was watching it with me and could turn it off if there were any really naughty parts. That meant I got to stay up late and watch the show with Dad. We had kind of had an unspoken agreement that if anything risqué did come on, he'd let me watch it as long as we were sure Mom wouldn't find out about it. But Mom did catch us once while watching the Hot Legs skit, and she started scolding Dad and me. But he put a quick stop to the tongue-lashing without even getting out of the easy chair by saying something like, "Oh, Roberta, just let us watch our show. It isn't going to do Daren any harm." Mom stormed off with a parting "Oh, Earl!" in her best I'm-so-disgusted voice. Within 30 seconds, Dad was roaring again at the skit. After that, Mom didn't protest my watching of the show any more, including the...
"Hot Legs" skit.
Thanks to Dad, every time "Hot Legs" is playing on the radio, I am now able to imagine Delvene Delaney wandering around some Australian town, apparently for no particular reason, and creating mayhem among the male populace by distracting them with the funnest legs to watch on TV. Fair dinkum!
 |
| Hoges, Strop, and Hot Legs |
178. Cleveland Rocks!
178. “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John
The only way this song could have been better is if Jeff Lynne had collaborated on it. Come on, people! He's doing the B-side of the record, which by the way has Newton-John as lead singer on the title track. Why not let him do the entire album!
While this 1980 wall-of-sound song doesn’t have the irresistible sing-along quality of a Bee Gees song, it does show off Newton-John's full range of considerable vocal talent, from her vibrating, whispered low notes to her lung-busting, full-volume high notes. Also, her video people were able to come up with an idea that is a little more interesting than walking in circles--lots of soft-lit closeups of a headband and a missing ear ring, and an italian restaurant with a cigarette smoking audience who all seem to be waiting on their food and drinks, and bulging crotch shots of guitarists in tight shiny pants. It's a recipe for video magic!
Olivia has had a lot of hits, some of them good, and some of them so ridiculously awful that it pains me to remember them, especially “Physical.” It was a gigantic hit for Olivia, but I think it cemented in place a public perception of her as the…ummm…how do I put this in language that would be acceptable in church…as the whore of Babylon. This, I believe, is unfair to Olivia. Yes, she sang a song jam-packed with not-so-subtle sexual innuendo, but she isn’t the one that ate the jam. We, the listening public, along with a lot of horny DJs, are responsible for making “Physical” such a big hit. I think it would behoove us all to remember that Olivia tried to make fun of the sex-goddess image she was developing in the…
Video to "Physical."
This is a simple story in which she works out with a bunch of old fat men who end up collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. Olivia goes off to take a quick shower with her headband. But when she returns to the workout room wearing a fresh headband, she finds all of the men have suddenly changed into super-toned muscle men in banana hammocks who, after flexing and primping in front of her, realize that they're gay and leave the gym with each other, at which point Olivia grabs an old fat guy and heads out to play tennis. That's the message Olivia wanted us to remember from the song--she's not a sex-goddess with the omnipotent power of seduction, but only a simple tennis fan with the power to make you gay.
Personally, I prefer to think of Olivia as the lovely country girl in a pure white dress who can't help but sing "I Honestly Love You!" From time to time, I also like to think of her as the faithful girlfriend who admits she's “Hopelessly Devoted To You.” And every now and then, I think of her as a young woman with high moral standards that shamelessly admits “You Light Up My Life.”
But back to “Magic.” It was a smash hit from the film Xanadu, which was about a place nobody dared to go that had lots and lots of neon lights. (Cleveland?) That’s it. That’s the story. At least the important part of it. There might be something in the film about a man and a woman struggling with inner conflict while, at the same time, struggling to resolve conflict with another person or the powers of nature. At least, that’s what my college literature teachers said most stories are about. I’m assuming something like that happened on the film. But I don’t really know for sure. All I know about the film I learned from the song lyrics. I don’t remember ever watching it, either in the theater or on video. However, I do remember that my father-in-law Max really liked it a lot when my beautiful wife (who is much more lovely than Olivia) made him sit down and watch it with her one day in our basement in Pocatello, while I studied for a graduate school class. Don’t know why I find Max’s enjoyment of the movie to be the most amusing piece of Xanadu trivia in my brain, but I do. The other piece of Xanadu trivia I know is that my high school friends and I used to replace the word “Xanadu” with our home town of “Arimo” whenever we sang along. And it sounded pretty bad when we strained to reach the high notes on the last word of the song:
“Aaaaarrrimmooh…Ooooh…OOOOOOHH! OOOoooohhhhh….
Yep. That’s the kind of wholesome fun we had in Arimo. No sexy girlfriends like Olivia. Of course, even if we had wanted to have meaningless sexual relationships with girls, we wouldn't have had the opportunity to do that in Arimo. All the young women in that town had very high moral standards like…well, you know…someone like Debby Boone. To find a woman with loose morals in a headband, we would have had to drive to a big city, like Malad. So, we stayed at home and drove tractor on the farm and spent our days thinking up new lyrics to songs on the Xanadu soundtrack. Good times…good times….
The only way this song could have been better is if Jeff Lynne had collaborated on it. Come on, people! He's doing the B-side of the record, which by the way has Newton-John as lead singer on the title track. Why not let him do the entire album!
While this 1980 wall-of-sound song doesn’t have the irresistible sing-along quality of a Bee Gees song, it does show off Newton-John's full range of considerable vocal talent, from her vibrating, whispered low notes to her lung-busting, full-volume high notes. Also, her video people were able to come up with an idea that is a little more interesting than walking in circles--lots of soft-lit closeups of a headband and a missing ear ring, and an italian restaurant with a cigarette smoking audience who all seem to be waiting on their food and drinks, and bulging crotch shots of guitarists in tight shiny pants. It's a recipe for video magic!
Olivia has had a lot of hits, some of them good, and some of them so ridiculously awful that it pains me to remember them, especially “Physical.” It was a gigantic hit for Olivia, but I think it cemented in place a public perception of her as the…ummm…how do I put this in language that would be acceptable in church…as the whore of Babylon. This, I believe, is unfair to Olivia. Yes, she sang a song jam-packed with not-so-subtle sexual innuendo, but she isn’t the one that ate the jam. We, the listening public, along with a lot of horny DJs, are responsible for making “Physical” such a big hit. I think it would behoove us all to remember that Olivia tried to make fun of the sex-goddess image she was developing in the…
Video to "Physical."
This is a simple story in which she works out with a bunch of old fat men who end up collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. Olivia goes off to take a quick shower with her headband. But when she returns to the workout room wearing a fresh headband, she finds all of the men have suddenly changed into super-toned muscle men in banana hammocks who, after flexing and primping in front of her, realize that they're gay and leave the gym with each other, at which point Olivia grabs an old fat guy and heads out to play tennis. That's the message Olivia wanted us to remember from the song--she's not a sex-goddess with the omnipotent power of seduction, but only a simple tennis fan with the power to make you gay.
Personally, I prefer to think of Olivia as the lovely country girl in a pure white dress who can't help but sing "I Honestly Love You!" From time to time, I also like to think of her as the faithful girlfriend who admits she's “Hopelessly Devoted To You.” And every now and then, I think of her as a young woman with high moral standards that shamelessly admits “You Light Up My Life.”
But back to “Magic.” It was a smash hit from the film Xanadu, which was about a place nobody dared to go that had lots and lots of neon lights. (Cleveland?) That’s it. That’s the story. At least the important part of it. There might be something in the film about a man and a woman struggling with inner conflict while, at the same time, struggling to resolve conflict with another person or the powers of nature. At least, that’s what my college literature teachers said most stories are about. I’m assuming something like that happened on the film. But I don’t really know for sure. All I know about the film I learned from the song lyrics. I don’t remember ever watching it, either in the theater or on video. However, I do remember that my father-in-law Max really liked it a lot when my beautiful wife (who is much more lovely than Olivia) made him sit down and watch it with her one day in our basement in Pocatello, while I studied for a graduate school class. Don’t know why I find Max’s enjoyment of the movie to be the most amusing piece of Xanadu trivia in my brain, but I do. The other piece of Xanadu trivia I know is that my high school friends and I used to replace the word “Xanadu” with our home town of “Arimo” whenever we sang along. And it sounded pretty bad when we strained to reach the high notes on the last word of the song:
“Aaaaarrrimmooh…Ooooh…OOOOOOHH! OOOoooohhhhh….
Yep. That’s the kind of wholesome fun we had in Arimo. No sexy girlfriends like Olivia. Of course, even if we had wanted to have meaningless sexual relationships with girls, we wouldn't have had the opportunity to do that in Arimo. All the young women in that town had very high moral standards like…well, you know…someone like Debby Boone. To find a woman with loose morals in a headband, we would have had to drive to a big city, like Malad. So, we stayed at home and drove tractor on the farm and spent our days thinking up new lyrics to songs on the Xanadu soundtrack. Good times…good times….
179. 40 Fathoms
179. "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gees
I have always liked dance songs from the 70s that have a rich "wall of sound" with orchestral arrangements and choruses sung in harmony. The Bee Gees knew I wasn't the only one, so they wrote a slew of songs to try to satiate our desires for these kinds of songs. But they only made things worse, as our desire only grew with each disco hit that they churned out. We couldn't get enough of the Bee Gees in the 70s, and we discoed in excess, causing a negative cultural backlash against the boogie that even managed to spawn its own catchphrase, “Disco Sucks.” Today, even the Bee Gees themselves have become the subject of national ridicule by the likes of Jimmy Fallon, Justin Timberlake, and Barry Gibb on Saturday Night Live. Despicable!
SNL: Barry Gibb Talk Show
Well, well, well…we're paying the price now for our disco avarice, aren't we. But there is no use in crying over spilt milk. The damage is done, and the musical history of the 70s can't be rewritten, so let's just enjoy us some of that wall-of-sound Bee Gees music and let our minds go back to the day when all you needed for a music video was a single camera to film your heads while you and your brothers lip-synced straight on into the camera and walked your dogs in circles. You may now click on the link below and behold the somber faces and impressive walking skills of the Bee Gees!
YouTube: How Deep Is Your Love
I like this song for its smooth, full-bodied sound, especially during the chorus, which features some very nicely balanced layered harmonies that do not require a balls-in-the-vice-grip falsetto voice for the sing-along. Whenever I hear this song, I'm taken back to the days of my early youth, laying on my bed at night, looking at all that Bicentennial wallpaper in the lamp-light of a 40-watt yellow incandescent bulb, listening to this song on the little clock radio on my nightstand, and trying to figure out the question of how to measure the depth of love.
And only now, after over three decades of trying to come up with an answer on my own, I finally gave up and just Googled it. Turns out that the white-coated and bespectacled scientists that are in charge of defining the universal standard measurements for everything in existence have declared that the official way to measure the depth of love is in units called "fathoms." I guess it's all part of the metric system that those fools Mr. Divesti and Mr. Brown tried to ramrod down our throats in our 7th and 8th grade scientology classes. Why were they always trying to break us down when they all should let us be?
I have always liked dance songs from the 70s that have a rich "wall of sound" with orchestral arrangements and choruses sung in harmony. The Bee Gees knew I wasn't the only one, so they wrote a slew of songs to try to satiate our desires for these kinds of songs. But they only made things worse, as our desire only grew with each disco hit that they churned out. We couldn't get enough of the Bee Gees in the 70s, and we discoed in excess, causing a negative cultural backlash against the boogie that even managed to spawn its own catchphrase, “Disco Sucks.” Today, even the Bee Gees themselves have become the subject of national ridicule by the likes of Jimmy Fallon, Justin Timberlake, and Barry Gibb on Saturday Night Live. Despicable!
SNL: Barry Gibb Talk Show
Well, well, well…we're paying the price now for our disco avarice, aren't we. But there is no use in crying over spilt milk. The damage is done, and the musical history of the 70s can't be rewritten, so let's just enjoy us some of that wall-of-sound Bee Gees music and let our minds go back to the day when all you needed for a music video was a single camera to film your heads while you and your brothers lip-synced straight on into the camera and walked your dogs in circles. You may now click on the link below and behold the somber faces and impressive walking skills of the Bee Gees!
YouTube: How Deep Is Your Love
I like this song for its smooth, full-bodied sound, especially during the chorus, which features some very nicely balanced layered harmonies that do not require a balls-in-the-vice-grip falsetto voice for the sing-along. Whenever I hear this song, I'm taken back to the days of my early youth, laying on my bed at night, looking at all that Bicentennial wallpaper in the lamp-light of a 40-watt yellow incandescent bulb, listening to this song on the little clock radio on my nightstand, and trying to figure out the question of how to measure the depth of love.
And only now, after over three decades of trying to come up with an answer on my own, I finally gave up and just Googled it. Turns out that the white-coated and bespectacled scientists that are in charge of defining the universal standard measurements for everything in existence have declared that the official way to measure the depth of love is in units called "fathoms." I guess it's all part of the metric system that those fools Mr. Divesti and Mr. Brown tried to ramrod down our throats in our 7th and 8th grade scientology classes. Why were they always trying to break us down when they all should let us be?
Thursday, June 18, 2015
180. Where's the damn salt!
180. "Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffett
I'm a sucker for a song that tells a depressing story well. And Jimmy Buffett did it perfectly with "Margaritaville." A guy is wasted again because he's feeling bad about losing his woman. At the beginning of the song, he says "it's nobody's fault." In the middle, he starts to doubt himself and thinks "it could be my fault." And at the end of the song, he says he knows "it's my own damn fault." In the end, there's only one thing colder than the realization that he's the source of his own misery--a frozen concoction to help him hang on.
If I were a drinking man, this song would probably be in my top 20, but since I'm a total teetotaler, it ranks a lot lower on the list. But I have to give Jimmy props for taking this song and making a life-long career out of helping others become depressed and drunk on a beach. "Margaritaville" used to be a figurative name for that state of mind where you have basically given up on doing anything with your life, and you just live day-to-day as a bummed out drunkard. There is now an actual physical place--or rather places--named "Margaritaville," and it's all been built by, you guessed it, Jimmy Buffett. Want to visit, click the link below and book your trip today!
Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville
Normally, I'd be a quite upset about the unrestrained commercialism surrounds this song, but the problem is that every time I hear it, I start to chill out and I stop caring and I just want to lounge on the beach all day drinking lots and lots of cold beverages. The song is that good. And yes, it is Jimmy Buffet's fault.
Sometimes, just for fun, I imagine this song being sung at a Star Trek convention by Jimmy Buffett dressed as Captain Kirk, and the woman he's singing about is really a telepathic Salt Vampire. That would certainly explain why he can't find that lost shaker of salt.
I'm a sucker for a song that tells a depressing story well. And Jimmy Buffett did it perfectly with "Margaritaville." A guy is wasted again because he's feeling bad about losing his woman. At the beginning of the song, he says "it's nobody's fault." In the middle, he starts to doubt himself and thinks "it could be my fault." And at the end of the song, he says he knows "it's my own damn fault." In the end, there's only one thing colder than the realization that he's the source of his own misery--a frozen concoction to help him hang on.
If I were a drinking man, this song would probably be in my top 20, but since I'm a total teetotaler, it ranks a lot lower on the list. But I have to give Jimmy props for taking this song and making a life-long career out of helping others become depressed and drunk on a beach. "Margaritaville" used to be a figurative name for that state of mind where you have basically given up on doing anything with your life, and you just live day-to-day as a bummed out drunkard. There is now an actual physical place--or rather places--named "Margaritaville," and it's all been built by, you guessed it, Jimmy Buffett. Want to visit, click the link below and book your trip today!
Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville
Normally, I'd be a quite upset about the unrestrained commercialism surrounds this song, but the problem is that every time I hear it, I start to chill out and I stop caring and I just want to lounge on the beach all day drinking lots and lots of cold beverages. The song is that good. And yes, it is Jimmy Buffet's fault.
Sometimes, just for fun, I imagine this song being sung at a Star Trek convention by Jimmy Buffett dressed as Captain Kirk, and the woman he's singing about is really a telepathic Salt Vampire. That would certainly explain why he can't find that lost shaker of salt.
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| What Kirk thought was happening. |
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| What was really happening. |
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| Quick question everyone. If I can suck salt through my fingers, then what the hell am I supposed to do with these vampiric teeth? |
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| No! I don't want a tasty salt tablet! Dammit, Jim! I'm a doctor not a…whoa!…I never felt that on a woman before…it kind of feels like a salt shaker?…. |
181. Lesson #27: If you want to make the ladies swoon, you've gotta dress like a Smurf.
181. "Kiss You All Over" by Exile
If you find exposed belly-buttons on album covers entertaining, then I apologize for the disembodied heads and hands on Exile's 1978 album "Mixed Emotions." I cannot spy a single belly-button anywhere. Gone also are any chest hair or nipples. Just floating noggin's and fingers. Sorry.
If you have never sung along to this song, then I pity you. I also admire your high level of self-discipline and self-respect. I wish I was you. But you cannot deny that this song is filled with irresistible sing-along moments, from the deep tones of the opening breathy line--"When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire"--to the high-pitched falsetto of the chorus line--"Till the night closes in!" You don't even have to have a decent singing voice to get into this song, as is proven in the following Happy Gilmore clip.
Full disclosure--I've sung the falsetto line a lot worse than Adam Sandler. My love of playing flugelhorn in the pep band isn't the only thing that kept me out of the MarVals.
Like other late 70s songs, this one has some very entertaining lip-synched and live performances captured on TV for future generations to mock. But this is one of the most copyright protected songs I've ever seen on YouTube, so you'll have to work for it if you want to see them. If you dare click the links below, keep your eyes peeled for the choreography of the long-haired lead singer. I call him the Sultan of Squat.
TopPop lip-sync version. After the Star Wars Meco song spectacle, I really expected more craziness from this Dutch television production. But there are some very nice moments in it. Squatty, squatty, squatty. Love my little squatty. Squatty, squatty, squatty, rock n roll!
https://youtu.be/gNo29v4ERqk
Midnight Special 5- minute live version. The Sultan really likes touching his microphone. And swaying his hair side to side. And the feel of a skin-tight blue jumpsuit.
https://youtu.be/mpiBdB6yJC8
I wanna watch these all over. And over again. I wanna watch these all over. Till the night closes in!
If you find exposed belly-buttons on album covers entertaining, then I apologize for the disembodied heads and hands on Exile's 1978 album "Mixed Emotions." I cannot spy a single belly-button anywhere. Gone also are any chest hair or nipples. Just floating noggin's and fingers. Sorry.
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| Everyone else is so happy, and I'm so miserable. Why did I have to be the one to grow the serious mustache?! |
If you have never sung along to this song, then I pity you. I also admire your high level of self-discipline and self-respect. I wish I was you. But you cannot deny that this song is filled with irresistible sing-along moments, from the deep tones of the opening breathy line--"When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire"--to the high-pitched falsetto of the chorus line--"Till the night closes in!" You don't even have to have a decent singing voice to get into this song, as is proven in the following Happy Gilmore clip.
Full disclosure--I've sung the falsetto line a lot worse than Adam Sandler. My love of playing flugelhorn in the pep band isn't the only thing that kept me out of the MarVals.
Like other late 70s songs, this one has some very entertaining lip-synched and live performances captured on TV for future generations to mock. But this is one of the most copyright protected songs I've ever seen on YouTube, so you'll have to work for it if you want to see them. If you dare click the links below, keep your eyes peeled for the choreography of the long-haired lead singer. I call him the Sultan of Squat.
TopPop lip-sync version. After the Star Wars Meco song spectacle, I really expected more craziness from this Dutch television production. But there are some very nice moments in it. Squatty, squatty, squatty. Love my little squatty. Squatty, squatty, squatty, rock n roll!
https://youtu.be/gNo29v4ERqk
Midnight Special 5- minute live version. The Sultan really likes touching his microphone. And swaying his hair side to side. And the feel of a skin-tight blue jumpsuit.
https://youtu.be/mpiBdB6yJC8
I wanna watch these all over. And over again. I wanna watch these all over. Till the night closes in!
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
182. Group hug!
182. "Still the One" by Orleans
If you find exposed belly-buttons on album covers entertaining, then I apologize for the group-hug cover on Orleans' 1976 album "Waking and Dreaming." I cannot spy a single belly-button anywhere. Oh, there's lots of chest hair and a handful of nipples. But no navels. Sorry.
In the 70s, if you had asked me what music group made up entirely of men that was most likely to pose topless on an album cover, I would have said, "What the hell?! Why are you asking me such a weird question? Pervert!"
Although this is not my favorite album cover in the world (I might need another top 200 list to figure that out), there is one visual treat on this cover that I do enjoy immensely--a bearded, non-balding George Costanza! If only Elaine were on the cover, too....
What puts this peppy Bicentennial chart-topping pop song on this list, besides the obvious triggering of memories of my early youth in Arimo, is the sing-along factor. It's lots of fun to sing the melody, but it's even more fun to sing harmony on the chorus, especially the bass part when they sing a cappella toward the end. I also have to admit that the main sentiment expressed in the song is pretty much exactly how I feel about my wife today--even after all these years together, she's still the one I want to scratch my itch. Especially in the morning just after waking up. Oh, yeah...to the left, to the left...up a little more...a little more...THAT'S the spot!
If you find exposed belly-buttons on album covers entertaining, then I apologize for the group-hug cover on Orleans' 1976 album "Waking and Dreaming." I cannot spy a single belly-button anywhere. Oh, there's lots of chest hair and a handful of nipples. But no navels. Sorry.
 |
| My eyes are closed because I'm trying not to look at your.... |
Although this is not my favorite album cover in the world (I might need another top 200 list to figure that out), there is one visual treat on this cover that I do enjoy immensely--a bearded, non-balding George Costanza! If only Elaine were on the cover, too....
What puts this peppy Bicentennial chart-topping pop song on this list, besides the obvious triggering of memories of my early youth in Arimo, is the sing-along factor. It's lots of fun to sing the melody, but it's even more fun to sing harmony on the chorus, especially the bass part when they sing a cappella toward the end. I also have to admit that the main sentiment expressed in the song is pretty much exactly how I feel about my wife today--even after all these years together, she's still the one I want to scratch my itch. Especially in the morning just after waking up. Oh, yeah...to the left, to the left...up a little more...a little more...THAT'S the spot!
183. Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid.
183. "Star Wars Theme / Cantina Band" by Meco
When I was 11, I saw the movie Star Wars at a drive-in theater in Pocatello. Now, sitting in the front seat of a Ford LTD with a mono speaker hanging on the window right by your ear is not the best way to see Star Wars. But that didn't matter. I wasn't really "watching" the movie anyway. No, I was IN the movie--totally immersed in this alternate reality created by George Lucas and, let's admit it, John Williams. Without Williams' music, the movie wouldn't have been half as good. The music is what sucked you in emotionally and energized the scenes. That's why when little kids play Star Wars, they're usually singing or humming the music in the background.
Having studied psychology in college a bit, I know that even though as adults we may feel like we have left the joy of childhood behind us and that childhood fantasies no longer have a place within our minds, there still exists within each of us an 11-year-old that finds joy in indulging in childhood fantasies. And that 11-year-old's name is Phillip. And the only way to get rid of Phillip completely is through a series of lengthy auditing sessions in which you hold an electropsychometer in your hands and answer trivia questions about L. Ron Hubbard. I don't know how it all works. I only minored in psychology.
But I embrace my inner-Phillip completely, and together we remember the awesomeness of Meco's disco version of the "Star Wars Theme / Cantina Band." Whenever this song came on the radio, I turned it up and would yell at everyone in the car (or truck) to be quiet so that I wouldn't miss the lasergun blasts and R2-D2 beeps. During the summer of 77, this song was the ultimate in musical entertainment. Today, I think the only way this song could be more entertaining is if a Dutch pop music TV show used this disco masterpiece in a space-cowboy dance routine.
Yep. That definitely made the song even more entertaining! And if you don't agree with me, then you must be a lasso-hating, shoulder-shrugging, hog-riding Nerfherder!
When I was 11, I saw the movie Star Wars at a drive-in theater in Pocatello. Now, sitting in the front seat of a Ford LTD with a mono speaker hanging on the window right by your ear is not the best way to see Star Wars. But that didn't matter. I wasn't really "watching" the movie anyway. No, I was IN the movie--totally immersed in this alternate reality created by George Lucas and, let's admit it, John Williams. Without Williams' music, the movie wouldn't have been half as good. The music is what sucked you in emotionally and energized the scenes. That's why when little kids play Star Wars, they're usually singing or humming the music in the background.
Having studied psychology in college a bit, I know that even though as adults we may feel like we have left the joy of childhood behind us and that childhood fantasies no longer have a place within our minds, there still exists within each of us an 11-year-old that finds joy in indulging in childhood fantasies. And that 11-year-old's name is Phillip. And the only way to get rid of Phillip completely is through a series of lengthy auditing sessions in which you hold an electropsychometer in your hands and answer trivia questions about L. Ron Hubbard. I don't know how it all works. I only minored in psychology.
But I embrace my inner-Phillip completely, and together we remember the awesomeness of Meco's disco version of the "Star Wars Theme / Cantina Band." Whenever this song came on the radio, I turned it up and would yell at everyone in the car (or truck) to be quiet so that I wouldn't miss the lasergun blasts and R2-D2 beeps. During the summer of 77, this song was the ultimate in musical entertainment. Today, I think the only way this song could be more entertaining is if a Dutch pop music TV show used this disco masterpiece in a space-cowboy dance routine.
Yep. That definitely made the song even more entertaining! And if you don't agree with me, then you must be a lasso-hating, shoulder-shrugging, hog-riding Nerfherder!
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
184. Welcome to D-Qwon's dance grooves, are you ready to get your groove on?
184. "Canned Heat" by Jamiroquai
This was a favorite song of mine while I was going to graduate school and working at Utah State. I often listened to several Jamiroquai albums while I typed out HTML code for my work projects. Jamiroquai has a lot of outstanding music, and I actually started to like his other songs more than this one. But then something completely unexpected happened in 2004 that not only made this song my favorite Jamiroquai song, but also thrust it into top 200 territory--Napoleon Dynamite.
Napoleon Dynamite is the only film in which I experienced genuine shock at the high school flashbacks I had while watching it. I'd been in Preston High School for various sports and drama events, and on the inside it looked pretty much like Marsh Valley High School. The clothes looked like ones we would have worn in high school. The people they rounded up as extras looked like the people I had known in my youth. And the outdoor scenes of the homes and the fields triggered memories of Arimo that were so vivid that the film kind of felt a bit surreal the first time I watched it.
The climax of the film is when Napoleon helps Pedro become student body president by dancing to "Canned Heat" in front of the whole school. He only dances to the first part of the song in the film, which was kind of a disappointment since it was such a funny scene. I really wanted to see more of that Dynamite boogie! Fortunately, some enterprising fans have figured out how to make Napoleon dance for the entire song.
Yeah, it looks pretty sweet. It looks awesome. That dance, it's... it's incredible.
This was a favorite song of mine while I was going to graduate school and working at Utah State. I often listened to several Jamiroquai albums while I typed out HTML code for my work projects. Jamiroquai has a lot of outstanding music, and I actually started to like his other songs more than this one. But then something completely unexpected happened in 2004 that not only made this song my favorite Jamiroquai song, but also thrust it into top 200 territory--Napoleon Dynamite.
Napoleon Dynamite is the only film in which I experienced genuine shock at the high school flashbacks I had while watching it. I'd been in Preston High School for various sports and drama events, and on the inside it looked pretty much like Marsh Valley High School. The clothes looked like ones we would have worn in high school. The people they rounded up as extras looked like the people I had known in my youth. And the outdoor scenes of the homes and the fields triggered memories of Arimo that were so vivid that the film kind of felt a bit surreal the first time I watched it.
The climax of the film is when Napoleon helps Pedro become student body president by dancing to "Canned Heat" in front of the whole school. He only dances to the first part of the song in the film, which was kind of a disappointment since it was such a funny scene. I really wanted to see more of that Dynamite boogie! Fortunately, some enterprising fans have figured out how to make Napoleon dance for the entire song.
Yeah, it looks pretty sweet. It looks awesome. That dance, it's... it's incredible.
185. Puttin' on the Ritz!
185. "Frankenstein" by The Edgar Winter Group, performed by Tomoyasu Hotei
The original version of "Frankenstein" by The Edgar Winter Group would not make the top 200. It's a good song, and I'll listen to it when it pops up on the radio, but there's a good chance I'll punch a radio button to see what else is playing. If a song parks the radio dial, there's a good chance it could make the top 200. But the Edgar Winter version of this song only makes me tap the brakes a little bit, not jam on the parking break. It just seems to be missing that extra level of UMPH! that I like to hear in my rock songs. For years I wanted to like this song because I had enjoyed watching Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster on the Friday night KID Cash Calls movie of the week. (I actually won $10 cash from the show!)
I also LOVED the movie Young Frankenstein, even though I had been forced to watch it on a Halloween date my junior year in high school. During a church meeting, Ruth Christiansen found out that I'd never been kissed, and she was interested in being the first. Of course, and army date of 8 people watching Young Frankenstein in her basement with her mother in the room really was not the recipe for the level of romance needed for me to give up my membership in the Virgin Lips Club.
But all through the 70s, 80s, and 90s, I never really took to the "Frankenstein" song until I heard it the 00s played by the Japanese guitarist Tomoyasu Hotei. He came to my attention after I heard his excellent guitar work on "Battle Without Honor or Humanity"on the radio, which had been featured in the 2003 movie "Kill Bill." (Dumb movie. Smart song.) I decided that song was worth purchasing on iTunes, and as iTunes purchases tend to go, I also ended up sampling some of his other work, and ended up discovering this rock monster. Tomoyasu won't let me embed the video below, but here's the link to the song that he put up on the interwebs.
"Frankenstein" by Tomoyasu Hotei
Oh, yeah! That song CRUSHES the original version!
I've said a number of times that my goal as an instructional designer is to figure out how I can do to a college course what Tomoyasu did to this song--make it at least four times better than the original. Maybe if I listen to this song enough, I'll figure out his secret, and then I'll know how to design instruction that ROCKS!
"Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you!"
The original version of "Frankenstein" by The Edgar Winter Group would not make the top 200. It's a good song, and I'll listen to it when it pops up on the radio, but there's a good chance I'll punch a radio button to see what else is playing. If a song parks the radio dial, there's a good chance it could make the top 200. But the Edgar Winter version of this song only makes me tap the brakes a little bit, not jam on the parking break. It just seems to be missing that extra level of UMPH! that I like to hear in my rock songs. For years I wanted to like this song because I had enjoyed watching Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster on the Friday night KID Cash Calls movie of the week. (I actually won $10 cash from the show!)
 |
| Give cash now! |
But all through the 70s, 80s, and 90s, I never really took to the "Frankenstein" song until I heard it the 00s played by the Japanese guitarist Tomoyasu Hotei. He came to my attention after I heard his excellent guitar work on "Battle Without Honor or Humanity"on the radio, which had been featured in the 2003 movie "Kill Bill." (Dumb movie. Smart song.) I decided that song was worth purchasing on iTunes, and as iTunes purchases tend to go, I also ended up sampling some of his other work, and ended up discovering this rock monster. Tomoyasu won't let me embed the video below, but here's the link to the song that he put up on the interwebs.
"Frankenstein" by Tomoyasu Hotei
Oh, yeah! That song CRUSHES the original version!
I've said a number of times that my goal as an instructional designer is to figure out how I can do to a college course what Tomoyasu did to this song--make it at least four times better than the original. Maybe if I listen to this song enough, I'll figure out his secret, and then I'll know how to design instruction that ROCKS!
"Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you!"
Monday, June 15, 2015
186. Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
186. "The Theme to the Man from Snowy River" by Bruce Rowland
This song was on another movie soundtrack tape that Elder Boehm had when we were together in Östersund. On this top-200 list, it edges out "The Theme to Somewhere in Time" because it's from a movie that I actually saw about 6 times before my mission. Today, saying that you've seen a movie 6 times means you maybe saw it in the theater once and then 5 times on video after that. But that's not how things worked in the early 80s. Yes, VCRs were available in the early 80s, but they cost a bit of money, and my folks didn't buy one until after I left for Sweden in 1985. That meant if I liked a movie and wanted to see it more than once, I had to go to the theater to see it. Yes, the Downey Theater made literally tens of dollars off me in 1982 from the tickets, and a whole lot more off of my favorite movie-watching treat, Peanut M&Ms mixed with Cherry Nibs.
When Elder Boehm brought out this tape, I couldn't have been more excited. Because I'd seen it so much, I could imagine the movie scenes associated with the music. It was like I could watch the movie in my mind, and since watching movies was against the mission rules, listening to this soundtrack was the pinnacle of rule-abiding entertainment. It also had a nifty piano opening and goose-bumpy "Waltzing Matilda" trumpet parts in it. Elder Boehm knew I liked it so much that he gave me his soundtrack when I left Östersund, and I listened to it throughout my mission.
While a lot of people prefer "Jessica's Theme" as the top song from this soundtrack, I like the ending titles from the movie more because you can hear the trumpets playing the "Waltzing Matilda" part in it, which reminds me of how my father served a mission in Australia. Also, it brings back memories of how much my friends and I liked all things Australian in high school, especially Paul Hogan!
This song was on another movie soundtrack tape that Elder Boehm had when we were together in Östersund. On this top-200 list, it edges out "The Theme to Somewhere in Time" because it's from a movie that I actually saw about 6 times before my mission. Today, saying that you've seen a movie 6 times means you maybe saw it in the theater once and then 5 times on video after that. But that's not how things worked in the early 80s. Yes, VCRs were available in the early 80s, but they cost a bit of money, and my folks didn't buy one until after I left for Sweden in 1985. That meant if I liked a movie and wanted to see it more than once, I had to go to the theater to see it. Yes, the Downey Theater made literally tens of dollars off me in 1982 from the tickets, and a whole lot more off of my favorite movie-watching treat, Peanut M&Ms mixed with Cherry Nibs.
When Elder Boehm brought out this tape, I couldn't have been more excited. Because I'd seen it so much, I could imagine the movie scenes associated with the music. It was like I could watch the movie in my mind, and since watching movies was against the mission rules, listening to this soundtrack was the pinnacle of rule-abiding entertainment. It also had a nifty piano opening and goose-bumpy "Waltzing Matilda" trumpet parts in it. Elder Boehm knew I liked it so much that he gave me his soundtrack when I left Östersund, and I listened to it throughout my mission.
While a lot of people prefer "Jessica's Theme" as the top song from this soundtrack, I like the ending titles from the movie more because you can hear the trumpets playing the "Waltzing Matilda" part in it, which reminds me of how my father served a mission in Australia. Also, it brings back memories of how much my friends and I liked all things Australian in high school, especially Paul Hogan!
187. Sometime in Where?
187. "The Theme to Somewhere in Time" by John Barry
I didn't see the movie "Somewhere in Time" in the theater when it came out in 1980, nor did I hear the song on the radio--at least that I can remember. I don't remember hearing any songs on the soundtrack until August of 1985. That's when, after the two most hellish months of my mission, I was rescued from insanity by Elder Boehm, who became my companion in Östersund. He had the soundtrack to the film on tape, and we listened to it a lot at night after tracting. Whenever I hear any of the songs from that soundtrack it instantly triggers very strong memories of my time in Östersund.
John Barry wrote a lot of outstanding music for the cinema, and is most notably credited for giving the James Bond movies their distinctive orchestral sound. I will admit the "Somewhere in Time" theme is probably not his best work, but it is still very good. The same can be said for the movie--it isn't the best work of Christoffer Reeves or Jane Seymour, but it's still a solid movie, especially for one featuring mental time-traveling as a plot device, something that at its core is kind of a stupid idea for a movie, don't you think?
I didn't see the movie "Somewhere in Time" in the theater when it came out in 1980, nor did I hear the song on the radio--at least that I can remember. I don't remember hearing any songs on the soundtrack until August of 1985. That's when, after the two most hellish months of my mission, I was rescued from insanity by Elder Boehm, who became my companion in Östersund. He had the soundtrack to the film on tape, and we listened to it a lot at night after tracting. Whenever I hear any of the songs from that soundtrack it instantly triggers very strong memories of my time in Östersund.
John Barry wrote a lot of outstanding music for the cinema, and is most notably credited for giving the James Bond movies their distinctive orchestral sound. I will admit the "Somewhere in Time" theme is probably not his best work, but it is still very good. The same can be said for the movie--it isn't the best work of Christoffer Reeves or Jane Seymour, but it's still a solid movie, especially for one featuring mental time-traveling as a plot device, something that at its core is kind of a stupid idea for a movie, don't you think?
Sunday, June 14, 2015
188. I just died in your arms tonight
188. "The Fountains of Rome - 4. The Villa Medici Fountain at Sunset" by Ottorino Respighi
If you like flying-floating songs, this classical orchestral piece will blow your MIND! Erik played it for one of his regional orchestral concerts, and I thought it was the most beautiful songs I'd ever heard him take part in performing. It is the song I hope to hear when I die and my spirit floats up into heaven.
Of course, I realize I'm making a very big and probably false assumption that the direction I'll be going after death is up, not down. But I hold out hope that there's a chance that some miracle might happen, and I'll die performing an act that is so altruistic and heroic that it will make up for a lifetime of crappy behavior. My reward will be hearing this song as my spirit separates from my body and rises through the sky until I'm greeted by female angels in white robes that smile at me and speak Swedish and offer me plates filled with different types of "bullar," which are Swedish rolls/buns that taste like this song sounds.
If you like flying-floating songs, this classical orchestral piece will blow your MIND! Erik played it for one of his regional orchestral concerts, and I thought it was the most beautiful songs I'd ever heard him take part in performing. It is the song I hope to hear when I die and my spirit floats up into heaven.
Of course, I realize I'm making a very big and probably false assumption that the direction I'll be going after death is up, not down. But I hold out hope that there's a chance that some miracle might happen, and I'll die performing an act that is so altruistic and heroic that it will make up for a lifetime of crappy behavior. My reward will be hearing this song as my spirit separates from my body and rises through the sky until I'm greeted by female angels in white robes that smile at me and speak Swedish and offer me plates filled with different types of "bullar," which are Swedish rolls/buns that taste like this song sounds.
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| Swedish angels! Wait…did I just die? |
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| Luciabullar! Saffron-scented bread shaped in the letter S (for Santa Lucia) and accented by two raisins. |
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| Kanelbullar! Just the smell of these cinnamon buns will let me know I'm in heaven. |
189. Money for nothin'
189. "Maple Leaf Rag" by Scott Joplin
Most musicians want two things for playing their music: money and awards. "Maple Leaf Rag" is the only song that I ever played that got me both.
Mom and Dad insisted that I take piano lessons while I was in elementary school. I'm not sure why I wasn't able to whine my way out of it or why my poor playing didn't discourage them. I played mediocre at best at the piano recitals and the Lava Hot Springs nursing home performances. "Daren, you have to practice that piece until you memorize it! You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of all those ancient gomers in Lava that have Alzheimers and can't remember anything at all, much less your memorized piano piece! Now practice for an hour a day for the next month until you can play it right!"
Fortunately, the lessons tapered off after Dad volunteered me to the Bishop to play the hymns in the opening priesthood meeting every week. Chad Cole had been the priesthood pianist for as long as I could remember, but he was about to graduate, and they needed a replacement. The first hymn I learned to play was "Sweet Hour of Prayer," because it's pretty slow and four of the five lines are almost exactly the same, which makes it one of the easiest hymns to play. And I played it repeatedly week after week until Dad complained about it, and he forced me to learn other hymns. I never did become good at playing any of the hymns. Few were mistake-free and played at the right tempo. But because I had to prepare to play a hymn every week, my piano playing did improve over the years, and I'd dabble from time to time with the sheet music my folks bought for my sisters to play. One book they bought was a Reader's Digest version of classic songs. Like any other Reader's Digest product, the songs had been shortened and simplified. But they still sounded good to me, and I liked to play a few of them because they either sounded really funny or sounded so serious that they had some comical value when played at the right moment--like the "Funeral March."
No other song in the Reader's Digest book had more show-off potential than "Maple Leaf Rag." It sounds like something that would be played as the background to a Charlie Chaplin silent film in which hilarious things keep happening to the Little Tramp. I remember playing it for the Hatch and Nielsen clan one summer, and they seemed mildly entertained by it, so I kept practicing it until I memorized the opening part and could play it at breakneck speed. Little did I know that this was the song that would be the one that would earn me a pocket portrait of a dead president.
I got the gig to play the song one day when my father complained about how the Bishop and his counselors and a lot of the other priesthood brethren were coming in late to the opening exercises. Now, nothing in the world incites the wrath of Earl like starting a church meeting late. I suggested in jest that maybe I should play "Maple Leaf Rag" to put a little pep in their step so that they'd get into the chapel faster. To my surprise, my father thought it was a great idea, and promised to pay me $20 if I played it in church that week as a priesthood prelude song. That may not seem like a lot of money now, but the internet's inflation calculator tells me that $20 in 1980 is worth the same as $61.23 in 2015. And that's pretty good pay for what I knew would be about 1 minute of piano playing.
When priesthood meeting came around, I plopped my Reader's Digest book on the piano music stand and started to play "Maple Leaf Rag" as fast as I could. Dale Hatch was the first to run into the chapel. He reached me at about the same time that the Bishop came through the chapel doors. I like Dale a lot, so I was a bit embarrassed that he was the one that told me to stop playing, but I really wanted that $20, so I kept at it. He quickly removed the book from the stand thinking that would end it, but I just kept playing my memorized piece. He then closed the keyboard cover, which ended the performance. I heard my Dad laughing in the audience and say loudly, "Maybe that will get everyone in the chapel to start the meeting on time!" The bishopric was not amused. They gave me a bit of a tongue-lashing right then at the piano, and I apologized and promised not to play it anymore, and I think I then played "Sweet Hour of Prayer" for the opening song. I got additional tongue-lashings by the bishopric after the meeting ended. And I was relieved of my piano-playing responsibilities for a few weeks after that. In particular, Dale was pretty disgusted with my behavior. But then Dale found out (probably from Ivalue via Chris) that my father had promised to pay me $20 for the stunt. After that, he understood my motivations a little better and forgave my insolent behavior towards him, and actually chuckled about the incident as we talked about it later in life.
The award for my playing came at the end of my senior year in high school. I needed to play or sing a song as part of the musical talent portion of the Mz. Marsh Valley pageant. I selected a medley of songs to play, including "Maple Leaf Rag" on the piano, "Tip-Toe Through the Tulips" on the ukelele, and "The Rose" on the tuba. I figured that it would look really funny for me to play "Maple Leaf Rag" really fast while wearing a dress.
When I made my way to the piano during the pageant, I tried my best to look ladylike as I descended the stairs in front of the stage. As I did, Doug Armstrong--one of my distant cousins on the Armstrong side of the family--was sitting in the second or third row by the piano bench, and he yelled out, "Hey gorgeous! How about a date!" A number of people in the audience laughed out loud at this, but I didn't react to him. I just took my time in sitting down at the bench and opening the keyboard cover while the laughter died out. I then put my fingers on the keys of the piano, turned my head to look at Doug straight in the eye, and in a loud, high-pitched lady-like voice said, "Fresh!" The audience roared in laughter, and a few second later I started pounding my way through "Maple Leaf Rag" as fast as my fingers would fly. I remember hearing some of the people up front go from laughing to gasping. Their reaction was like, "Woah! Daren can play the piano like that without any music?!"
The rest of my musical performance went well. My falsetto impression of Tiny Tim was well-received, and my emptying of the tuba spit valve got the gross-out "Eeeewww!" response I was hoping for. (I'd put a half cup of water in the tuba just to make sure it looked like a lot of spit was being emptied out on the stage floor.) The crowd's reaction after I blasted out the final low notes on "The Rose" was exactly what I had been searching for my entire school career as a class clown--laughter mixed with cheering mixed with applause. It was extremely satisfying and was everything I had hoped to get out of the competition.
I think my performance, especially the Maple Leaf Rag piece, exhibited enough musical talent for the judges to award me the grand prize--the Mz. March Valley trophy. I was a bit stunned at the end of the pageant when they gave it to me. My vote was for Sheldon because his trombone piece was excellent and he could also play music by just blowing into his hands! His hands were literally a musical instrument! Doesn't anyone else think that is worthy of the grand prize?! I really wasn't trying to compete for the Mz. Marsh Valley like some of the other guys. Like Sheldon, I entered the contest to just to see if we could make people involuntarily laugh so hard that snot would fly out of their noses. I didn't even wear a wig like the others because I thought I would look more hideously comical if I just had really short blonde curls instead of long flowing hair. I remember that some of the other guys (not Sheldon) looked really disappointed in the dressing room after the show, and the girls they had helping them were actually crying because they didn't win. I felt kind of bad because I really didn't want to win it. I only wanted to make people laugh. But such are the vagaries of beauty pageants. Sometimes the ugliest and least-talented ones will win.
Most musicians want two things for playing their music: money and awards. "Maple Leaf Rag" is the only song that I ever played that got me both.
Mom and Dad insisted that I take piano lessons while I was in elementary school. I'm not sure why I wasn't able to whine my way out of it or why my poor playing didn't discourage them. I played mediocre at best at the piano recitals and the Lava Hot Springs nursing home performances. "Daren, you have to practice that piece until you memorize it! You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of all those ancient gomers in Lava that have Alzheimers and can't remember anything at all, much less your memorized piano piece! Now practice for an hour a day for the next month until you can play it right!"
Fortunately, the lessons tapered off after Dad volunteered me to the Bishop to play the hymns in the opening priesthood meeting every week. Chad Cole had been the priesthood pianist for as long as I could remember, but he was about to graduate, and they needed a replacement. The first hymn I learned to play was "Sweet Hour of Prayer," because it's pretty slow and four of the five lines are almost exactly the same, which makes it one of the easiest hymns to play. And I played it repeatedly week after week until Dad complained about it, and he forced me to learn other hymns. I never did become good at playing any of the hymns. Few were mistake-free and played at the right tempo. But because I had to prepare to play a hymn every week, my piano playing did improve over the years, and I'd dabble from time to time with the sheet music my folks bought for my sisters to play. One book they bought was a Reader's Digest version of classic songs. Like any other Reader's Digest product, the songs had been shortened and simplified. But they still sounded good to me, and I liked to play a few of them because they either sounded really funny or sounded so serious that they had some comical value when played at the right moment--like the "Funeral March."
No other song in the Reader's Digest book had more show-off potential than "Maple Leaf Rag." It sounds like something that would be played as the background to a Charlie Chaplin silent film in which hilarious things keep happening to the Little Tramp. I remember playing it for the Hatch and Nielsen clan one summer, and they seemed mildly entertained by it, so I kept practicing it until I memorized the opening part and could play it at breakneck speed. Little did I know that this was the song that would be the one that would earn me a pocket portrait of a dead president.
I got the gig to play the song one day when my father complained about how the Bishop and his counselors and a lot of the other priesthood brethren were coming in late to the opening exercises. Now, nothing in the world incites the wrath of Earl like starting a church meeting late. I suggested in jest that maybe I should play "Maple Leaf Rag" to put a little pep in their step so that they'd get into the chapel faster. To my surprise, my father thought it was a great idea, and promised to pay me $20 if I played it in church that week as a priesthood prelude song. That may not seem like a lot of money now, but the internet's inflation calculator tells me that $20 in 1980 is worth the same as $61.23 in 2015. And that's pretty good pay for what I knew would be about 1 minute of piano playing.
When priesthood meeting came around, I plopped my Reader's Digest book on the piano music stand and started to play "Maple Leaf Rag" as fast as I could. Dale Hatch was the first to run into the chapel. He reached me at about the same time that the Bishop came through the chapel doors. I like Dale a lot, so I was a bit embarrassed that he was the one that told me to stop playing, but I really wanted that $20, so I kept at it. He quickly removed the book from the stand thinking that would end it, but I just kept playing my memorized piece. He then closed the keyboard cover, which ended the performance. I heard my Dad laughing in the audience and say loudly, "Maybe that will get everyone in the chapel to start the meeting on time!" The bishopric was not amused. They gave me a bit of a tongue-lashing right then at the piano, and I apologized and promised not to play it anymore, and I think I then played "Sweet Hour of Prayer" for the opening song. I got additional tongue-lashings by the bishopric after the meeting ended. And I was relieved of my piano-playing responsibilities for a few weeks after that. In particular, Dale was pretty disgusted with my behavior. But then Dale found out (probably from Ivalue via Chris) that my father had promised to pay me $20 for the stunt. After that, he understood my motivations a little better and forgave my insolent behavior towards him, and actually chuckled about the incident as we talked about it later in life.
The award for my playing came at the end of my senior year in high school. I needed to play or sing a song as part of the musical talent portion of the Mz. Marsh Valley pageant. I selected a medley of songs to play, including "Maple Leaf Rag" on the piano, "Tip-Toe Through the Tulips" on the ukelele, and "The Rose" on the tuba. I figured that it would look really funny for me to play "Maple Leaf Rag" really fast while wearing a dress.
When I made my way to the piano during the pageant, I tried my best to look ladylike as I descended the stairs in front of the stage. As I did, Doug Armstrong--one of my distant cousins on the Armstrong side of the family--was sitting in the second or third row by the piano bench, and he yelled out, "Hey gorgeous! How about a date!" A number of people in the audience laughed out loud at this, but I didn't react to him. I just took my time in sitting down at the bench and opening the keyboard cover while the laughter died out. I then put my fingers on the keys of the piano, turned my head to look at Doug straight in the eye, and in a loud, high-pitched lady-like voice said, "Fresh!" The audience roared in laughter, and a few second later I started pounding my way through "Maple Leaf Rag" as fast as my fingers would fly. I remember hearing some of the people up front go from laughing to gasping. Their reaction was like, "Woah! Daren can play the piano like that without any music?!"
The rest of my musical performance went well. My falsetto impression of Tiny Tim was well-received, and my emptying of the tuba spit valve got the gross-out "Eeeewww!" response I was hoping for. (I'd put a half cup of water in the tuba just to make sure it looked like a lot of spit was being emptied out on the stage floor.) The crowd's reaction after I blasted out the final low notes on "The Rose" was exactly what I had been searching for my entire school career as a class clown--laughter mixed with cheering mixed with applause. It was extremely satisfying and was everything I had hoped to get out of the competition.
I think my performance, especially the Maple Leaf Rag piece, exhibited enough musical talent for the judges to award me the grand prize--the Mz. March Valley trophy. I was a bit stunned at the end of the pageant when they gave it to me. My vote was for Sheldon because his trombone piece was excellent and he could also play music by just blowing into his hands! His hands were literally a musical instrument! Doesn't anyone else think that is worthy of the grand prize?! I really wasn't trying to compete for the Mz. Marsh Valley like some of the other guys. Like Sheldon, I entered the contest to just to see if we could make people involuntarily laugh so hard that snot would fly out of their noses. I didn't even wear a wig like the others because I thought I would look more hideously comical if I just had really short blonde curls instead of long flowing hair. I remember that some of the other guys (not Sheldon) looked really disappointed in the dressing room after the show, and the girls they had helping them were actually crying because they didn't win. I felt kind of bad because I really didn't want to win it. I only wanted to make people laugh. But such are the vagaries of beauty pageants. Sometimes the ugliest and least-talented ones will win.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
190. I just want to bang on the drums all day, you sexist pig!
190. "We've Only Just Begun" by The Carpenters
For the last five years or so, I've been toying with the idea for a movie screenplay in which the protagonist is a man in his 50s that works as a DJ at a "Classic Rock" radio station. One day he is called into the boss's office and is told that the station management has decided that in 6 weeks they will switch to a format that features "adult" contemporary music that is really targeted to the 13-to-21 audience. The protagonist responds in anger and goes into a tirade about how all of these Taylor Swift wannabes have no talent or intelligence at all and shouldn't be allowed to drive, much less make music. At that point, he suddenly passes out. He is rushed to the hospital by his boss, and when he awakes, the doctor tells him that he has a very advanced case of brain cancer. The doctor says that the only way he will live is if he goes through a series of experimental treatments involving radiation and very precise robot-assisted brain surgery. As with many brain surgeries, this surgery is done while he is conscious and able to communicate with the surgical staff. During the surgeries, he has some very vivid experiences in which he hears songs that transport him back to a time that he associates with the music. He imagines that he's interacting with people from that time, which he does to try to make sense of his life choices and find meaning in the things he has done with his life. The song the protagonist hears during his first surgery is "We've Only Just Begun," which takes him back to the early 70s when he was just a boy.
I chose that song to be the first in the story for three reasons. First, Karen Carpenter's voice is so incredible that it is a little beyond belief that she was able to sound so good without any electronic sweetening in the sound booth. But the live version of the song in the video above shows that it's all genuinely her.
Second, the lyrics of the song express a wonderful mix of love and hope and belonging. I usually don't cotton to songs with such a sweet message. But Karen's voice is so beautiful, and the way she sings it is so sincere, I can't help but think, "Maybe there is reason to hope!"
Third, the song came out in 1970, and triggers a lot of those early 70s memories of being with my family, and when we'd hear this song or other Carpenter songs on the radio my older sisters would turn it up and say, "Be quiet! This is a good song!" While "Close to You" was a much bigger hit for The Carpenters, and I like it very much too, I like the piano and trumpet parts on this song more. And that's another thing that will get songs on the top 200 list--good piano or trumpet parts.
Well, that's the beginning of my movie script--a big lead-in to this song, during which the protagonist has his first flashback/time-travel experience. For this scene, the protagonist watches his mother dance with the boy's stepfather at their wedding reception. In the middle of the song, the "little girl next door"--who is about a year older--comes over and makes the boy dance with her, too. The girl tells the boy that its a good thing for his mom to get married after the death of the boy's dad last year. The girl assures him to not worry about the new stepfather, because she lives next door and she'll keep an eye on him and make sure that the man treats the boy and his mother well. Then the boy's mother cuts in and dances with the boy during the last part of the song.
Okay, enough of the storyline for the movie. I just have one other thing to say in praise of Karen Carpenter. Her talent with music went well beyond her mesmerizing voice. She could also play them drums damn good! Here's a video featuring Karen playing drums…a lot of drums…more drums than you have probably ever seen on a single television program. Also, she somehow manages to magically clone herself in the middle of the drum solo--a feat that the audience applauds--and then turn it into a drum duet. But don't worry, she merges with her sister-clone at the end, thus helping us avoid a number of extremely difficult philosophical quandaries about the nature of the Self. Oh, and keep your eyes pealed for a guest appearance by a very sexist John Denver!
For the last five years or so, I've been toying with the idea for a movie screenplay in which the protagonist is a man in his 50s that works as a DJ at a "Classic Rock" radio station. One day he is called into the boss's office and is told that the station management has decided that in 6 weeks they will switch to a format that features "adult" contemporary music that is really targeted to the 13-to-21 audience. The protagonist responds in anger and goes into a tirade about how all of these Taylor Swift wannabes have no talent or intelligence at all and shouldn't be allowed to drive, much less make music. At that point, he suddenly passes out. He is rushed to the hospital by his boss, and when he awakes, the doctor tells him that he has a very advanced case of brain cancer. The doctor says that the only way he will live is if he goes through a series of experimental treatments involving radiation and very precise robot-assisted brain surgery. As with many brain surgeries, this surgery is done while he is conscious and able to communicate with the surgical staff. During the surgeries, he has some very vivid experiences in which he hears songs that transport him back to a time that he associates with the music. He imagines that he's interacting with people from that time, which he does to try to make sense of his life choices and find meaning in the things he has done with his life. The song the protagonist hears during his first surgery is "We've Only Just Begun," which takes him back to the early 70s when he was just a boy.
I chose that song to be the first in the story for three reasons. First, Karen Carpenter's voice is so incredible that it is a little beyond belief that she was able to sound so good without any electronic sweetening in the sound booth. But the live version of the song in the video above shows that it's all genuinely her.
Second, the lyrics of the song express a wonderful mix of love and hope and belonging. I usually don't cotton to songs with such a sweet message. But Karen's voice is so beautiful, and the way she sings it is so sincere, I can't help but think, "Maybe there is reason to hope!"
Third, the song came out in 1970, and triggers a lot of those early 70s memories of being with my family, and when we'd hear this song or other Carpenter songs on the radio my older sisters would turn it up and say, "Be quiet! This is a good song!" While "Close to You" was a much bigger hit for The Carpenters, and I like it very much too, I like the piano and trumpet parts on this song more. And that's another thing that will get songs on the top 200 list--good piano or trumpet parts.
Well, that's the beginning of my movie script--a big lead-in to this song, during which the protagonist has his first flashback/time-travel experience. For this scene, the protagonist watches his mother dance with the boy's stepfather at their wedding reception. In the middle of the song, the "little girl next door"--who is about a year older--comes over and makes the boy dance with her, too. The girl tells the boy that its a good thing for his mom to get married after the death of the boy's dad last year. The girl assures him to not worry about the new stepfather, because she lives next door and she'll keep an eye on him and make sure that the man treats the boy and his mother well. Then the boy's mother cuts in and dances with the boy during the last part of the song.
Okay, enough of the storyline for the movie. I just have one other thing to say in praise of Karen Carpenter. Her talent with music went well beyond her mesmerizing voice. She could also play them drums damn good! Here's a video featuring Karen playing drums…a lot of drums…more drums than you have probably ever seen on a single television program. Also, she somehow manages to magically clone herself in the middle of the drum solo--a feat that the audience applauds--and then turn it into a drum duet. But don't worry, she merges with her sister-clone at the end, thus helping us avoid a number of extremely difficult philosophical quandaries about the nature of the Self. Oh, and keep your eyes pealed for a guest appearance by a very sexist John Denver!
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