Today I crunk up the Launchcast at work and decided that I'd switch up my radio station. As most of you know, I'd been engaging in the Classic Soul station for quite some time and I realized today that that was some lovely green grass that was good as kept. I don't know what possessed me to think I'd benefit from listening to something called Today's Big Hits. It was more like today's big whoops. I burned up my five free skips consecutively, because you must be kidding me ...
Nickelback?
They best be glad I didn't pay for that shiz for several reasons. The most obvious one is that I'd certainly want my nickel back; that's for damn sho'. I did not find their lead vocalist's strainin' pipes to be in any way appealing. When I want to hear straining, I'll just tap into my Journey selection for some Steve Perry. Oh Sherry. Our love holds on. Holds on ...
Secondly, I was feeling spiteful since obviously I'd used up my skips and was stuck with Nickelback, so I had a good 3 to 4 minutes to rail on those suckas. Mostly I was curious as to what that band name was about ... did they think they'd get nickels back for their music? If so, why didn't they consider that some of us might like to throw them? Hard.
The next song was that mess from the Backstreet Boys - Never Gone. If that wasn't schmaltz, I don't know what was. It was like ordering a root beer float that was flat. Don't let the foam fool you. Once a boy band, always a boy band, and unfortunately for them, I'm no longer in a place where I can tolerate foolishness. Those boys need to go back to the street of basics, and by basics I mean Golden Rule-type, Thumper-style basics, as in, if you can't sing something nice, don't sing it at all. All that whinin' going on made me question what the hell is wrong with me for loving I Want It That Way, and I'm telling you I loved that song.
The predictable predicament that the Backstreet Boys now find themselves in reminded me of my sister, Kim, and her dismissal of New Edition's return on the scene. I had sent her a video tape of all the latest videos last fall, as she was in Germany and stuck with military cable - which is bascially suckier than having rabbit ears. Anyway, she was like, what's new? We're over here watching Good Times, the Jeffersons and Sanford & Son on DVD like they just came out. So when I first saw NE's Hot Tonight video, I was like, she'll love this.
Yay nostalgia.
I called her a couple of weeks later and we were rambling along like usual and then she was like, girl, what is this bullmess? These jokahs hoppin' around, bouncin' like muppets. I don't want to hear this boppity booin' chit (her word). My first reaction was raucous laughter because she said boppity booin', which is how my dad describes anything that was recorded after like 1974. Boom bam, boppity flouin' shit is really how he says it, but I digress.
I had to call her old and then I was like, I thought you would've enjoyed seeing them. She was like, Danita, I'm grown. I ain't got no time for no old behind jokah's jumpin' around like they gotta pee with mist flying around talking about girl gimme yo' numba. That ain't the answer.
She had a good point. I re-watched the video and I thought, that must be weird. They're still dancing in formation like they did for Mr. Telephone Man, Candy Girl and NE Heartbreak. Plus, there was an awful lot of mist and dark lighting and Johnny Gill, being the blackest of the group, was damn near relegated to teeth and eye appeareances.
At any rate, you know what I'm listening to right now? Mercy, Mercy Me by the incomparable Marvin Gaye. I miss him. This girl knocked on my door and was like, I just want to tell you that I walk by your door everyday and I always hear the best music, how old are you?
Old enough to know ain't shit playin' on the radio, I said to myself, but I just told her I was 25. She was 21 and started razzin' about how awesome old music is and she was using all these words that sounded a lot like lingo. It felt like she'd spent some time with some people who tried to educate her but they themselves didn't really know what they were talking about, and then I found myself feeling a little too elitist, if you will. I was nodding, like yeah, yeah, I dig, but you really have no idea what you're talking about, but it's cool. Glad I can give you an earful of a lil' sumpin' sumpin' because Inner City Blues is playing right now and you don't know how bad life makes me wanna holler sometimes ...
Then I just felt weird and sad for these young folks and anyone who wasn't raised on goodness. I pity them the same way I feel sorry for folks who grew up on sodas, candy and chips. You gotsta have a wholesome diet kids, you just gotsta. My parents did good, besides the fact that I probably know way more light rock than I should, I know me some soul and I have yet to figure out the best way to illustrate it, but I'm working on a piece that will be along the lines of Love*Sing, but actually autobiographical in that it'll paint the picture of my life so far ...
I like this idea. I'll keep you posted ;)
In the meantime, here are vitals I can't do without - they're lifeblood and no matter the subject matter, they never fail to lift my mood. Particularly the sadder ones ... I think for me they remind me that I'm not the only one who's felt tired, downtrodden, pissed off, cheated and just sad and hurt. I also realize, though, that hope is no new cause, so it gives me a framework in which to place myself ...
Some real goodies:
- Sam Cooke, Mahalia Jackson, Nina Simone, Al Green, Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, the Marvelettes, Jackie Wilson, Joe Tex, Etta James, James Brown, Smokey Robinson, The Four Tops, Ray Charles, Dinah Washington, the Isley Brothers, The Temptations, Little Anthony and the Imperials, the Drifters ...
Shucks. I may never go to sleep replayin' all this goodness.