*snark alert* I’m plagued with Christmas music for some reason today. I heard some good songs yesterday. They’re good to me; your preferences are probably different. The performers included Burl Ives, Johnny Mathis, and the Eagles. The person I was with said, “I like this song. They’re playing good music today.” Like they were telepathic, innit?
“Yes, I like Burl Ives and his cover of “Frosty the Snowman,”” I said.
“I don’t know who that is,” the other said. He’s about thirty-five years old. “Is that who it was?”
Oh, generation dagger! I’ve slipped it into others, when I was young. Now I try keeping it sheathed. I asked him about the previous two songs, by Johnny Mathis and the Eagles. They knew who the Eagles were, but didn’t know that was them playing. Johnny Mathis was another dagger.
Out of this morass, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts arrived with a song for the day. Her group hit the music scene as we were living on Okinawa. Music coverage by AFRTS was split among all the genres, so information was sparse. Most rock/pop tidbits were delivered via Casey Kasem and American Top 40, played on Sundays. When I eventually returned to America (after a few years) and saw Joan Jett on MTV at a friend’s house, I realized that she’d been part of the Runaways. Yes, that’s how slow I can be.
“I Hate Myself for Loving You” is one of my favorite J2 offerings. It has fine hard-rock harmonics, with ironic lyrics that are revealing about human nature, and the nature of our desires and attractions. You can hear Desmond Child’s influence, and recognize the similarity of the songs he wrote/co-wrote for Kiss, Aerosmith, Bon-Jovi, and others. Give it a listen.
From nineteen eighty-eight.