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.
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