I’ve been thinking about the Beatles’ song, “Hello, Goodbye”. A simple song, I’ve thought often of this song in the context of people taking different views of something. To me, the words were about trying to reconcile differences between people – “You say, goodbye, and I say, hello.” The lyrics were saying, “We can’t agree on anything.” Yet, the song is optimistic; they’re talking about this.
Beyond that, like most Beatles songs, I like their use of their instruments and timing to add inflections and nuances. Yet, watching the video, and the almost bored attitude as they play, and listening to the words, it’s really a tedious little song. What about those costumes, too?
But, it’s in my head, and I have to get it out, so I’m putting it out to you. Sue me if you’re upset.
Returning to my roots of being, I’m streaming stuff from the nineteen sixties today.
I was a big motor-racing, science-fiction and baseball fan then. Mario Andretti, Jackie Stewart, Mark Donahue, Dan Gurney, Peter Revson were among the racers I idolized. The Can-Am, Formula One, Indy (called USAC racing back then), sports car racing, with the Ford versus Ferrari battles at LeMans…I watched them all.
My baseball team was the Pittsburgh Pirates, and I followed them faithfully. But my emerging loves were reading and music. Although my reading tastes were — and are — eclectic, I tore through the works of Asimov, Bradbury, Zelazny, Clarke, and Heinlein. Besides my racing magazines, I bought science fiction magazines every month, and devoured the short stories.
The rock explosion was in full strength and the Brit Invasion was underway. Protests, demonstrations, riots, the Altamont Free Concert and Woodstock were part of our news cycles, along with Vietnam, political assassinations, civil rights and the cold war. The threat of nukes was a constant. Bombers and fighters remained on alert.
Consumerism, television and advertising were gaining strength. What a time, what a time, for a teenage boy in America. Into this maelstrom of my existence came Jimi Hendrix. Wow, his playing amazed me. He died young, just twenty-eight years old, but, man, what a legacy he left. What an impact he had.
I’m surprised that it’s been twenty-five years since ‘Baby Got Back’ came out, but time and its accumulated movements often surprise me. I’m still surprised that when we’re talking about the century, it’s the twenty-first.
Sir Mix-a-Lot wasn’t part of my normal streaming music. ‘Baby Got Back’, was one that crossed the standard radio airplay lines back then. Its lyrics and beat make it the butt of many light night and sitcom jokes. I used to sing it around the office. What can I say? I had fun at work.
His song that really fascinated me, though, was ‘Iron Man’. Black Sabbath’s original ‘Iron Man’ was a listening staple in my teen years, a song that usually elicited Mom’s irritation. She always wanted to know what I was listening to, and told me to turn it down. With backing by Metal Church, Sir Mix-a-Lot included elements of the Black Sabbath song in his hiphop take.
That was nineteen eighty-eight. I lived in Waldorf, just outside Frankfurt. I remember listening to this song while awaiting my friends; we were headed to the Paul McCartney concert in Frankfurt. I enjoyed that juxtaposition of time and music.
It was a good night, walking to the train station and taking the U-Bahn and S-Bahn to reach Frankfurt’s Festhalle. Sir McCartney put on a good show for us aging boomers. I was thirty-two. I though I knew what aging meant, but I was wrong.
I walked eight miles yesterday. Not all in one go, but through three different ventures. While doing that, multiple songs were streamed. One of them is called ‘Mongoose’, by Elephant’s Memory. A hit in nineteen seventy, I don’t believe anyone I’ve ever met recalled the song when I mentioned it. I had to confirm with Internet sources what year that it was a hit and could only recall about a third of the lyrics. I’m not certain why I started streaming it into my head yesterday. Just one of those curiosities.
What about you? Do you remember this song, or have you ever heard it?
This isn’t a song that I normally stream in my head. The cloud in my head is filled with ‘classic’ rock, with some R&B, Motown, Brit Invasion and Top 40 childhood memories. –
‘Push It’, by Salt N’ Pepa, was a hit in nineteen eighty-eight. It certainly left an imprint in my cloud, but then, the song received a lot of air time. My wife, a Jazzercise zealot in that era, found its beat and energy worthy of some of her work-outs. It’s also a song that became used in commercials, and on television shows and in movies. It doesn’t really stream to me when I’m walking around, though, because its energy isn’t a good fit for me.
Honestly, I know this song through my wife. When we drove together, she’d sometiimes switch the station on MY CAR’S RADIO to HER station. (If I become portrayed as childishly indignant and immature, that’s a good summary of myself about this action back then.) This song was often played on the station she listened to. It’s a different style than I preferred, but she loves it. It’s on her exercise workout CD and her iPod shuffle. Put it on and she starts singing and dancing, which I enjoy.
Here, from nineteen ninety-six, is Quad City DJs with ‘C’mon N’ Ride It’. I prefer not to think about what train they’re riding.
Today’s Monday! Something peppier is required, something with a beat, something to move me through the hours of sunshine, from the chilly morning into the warm afternoon.
Responding to the request, my mind streamed a few songs. I settled on this hit by the Romantics. From nineteen eighty, here is, ‘What I Like About You’.
Sublime was on the scene briefly. A ska-punk band, I had only one of their albums. One of their hits was ‘Santeria’, in nineteen ninety-seven.My first question was, what is Santeria? Fortunately, Sarah and Vinnie on Alice (KLLC) answered that question for me as I was driving to work and on errands in the SF Bay Area. Sarah and Vinnie were great company in the early morning. I drifted the dial for the rest of the day, a funny way to express pressing on buttons to find a new station.
I enjoyed living in the SF Bay Area. Lots to do, great places eat and shop, wonderful book stores, and lots of concerts. The weather was usually fabulous for about two thirds of the year. Work and traffic consumed most of our time, yet it was all good.
Of course, by the time I learned of Sublime, Bradley Nowell, the lead singer and guitarist, was already dead of a heroin overdose. What intrigued me about ‘Santeria’, besides that word, was the general tone of the lyrics against the easy-going melody. Here is this guy, upset that he’d lost his girlfriend, which he was calling a heina. He was calling the guy he’d lost her to, ‘sancho’, and wanted to shoot and kill sancho for revenge. None of it was forced and seemed authentic and true. Learning of Nowell’s death and the band’s success after Nowell’s death was another layer for reflection while waiting for a green light and listening to the song.
The Wayback Machine started streaming music from nineteen sixty-seven this morning. I don’t know what triggered that setting. Maybe it was that I read a VOX article ranking the best Rolling Stones songs yesterday, and several of the top ten seemed to be from the mid to late sixties.
At any rate, from the Stones came a Van Morrison connection. I enjoy his voice and style and found myself singing several of his songs, including ‘Brown Eyed Girl’. I’ve always enjoyed the simple melody and nostalgic, evocative lyrics. Much later in life, I discovered that the song’s lyrics were too suggestive for the radio. I learned it at the same time that I became educated on ‘Wake Up Little Susie’s’ shocking lyrics. I’ve also read, but haven’t been able to vet this, that Van Morrison didn’t think much of his hit.
His thoughts on his song doesn’t change my impressions of it. I hope you enjoy it, and that the lyrics don’t offend you too much.
Another anniversary was passed. This one was less remembered and noted than many anniversaries.
Today’s song is ‘Ohio’, by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (CSN&Y). The Kent State shootings inspired the song when Ohio National Guardsman shot at protesters, killing four, in nineteen seventy. Nine others were wounded. Some of those shot were watching the protest or walking the area, and not taking part in the protests.
I vividly remember hearing the song for the first time. It was a warm morning, but humid after thunderstorms the previous night, and our patch of suburbia was richly green. I was in my friend’s back yard in Penn Hills, PA. Curt lived up the street from me. He, John, Ricky and Bruce, all neighbors and classmates (except Bruce), were the core of my friendships. Curt’s back yard was slick with mud from the heavy rains. Mosquitoes were swarming, along with horse flies.
The Kent State protests were mostly about President Nixon’s Cambodia Campaign, just announced. It seems appropriate for our era, as we’re protesting an American Executive branch’s words, actions, behavior and stated intentions, to listen to this song and think about the words. Appallingly, I saw an FB post encouraging ‘vets’ to run over protesters. It sickened my heart to read such sentiments. Is that why vets went to war, to return and run over others exercising their rights and freedoms?
Some seem to have twisted ideas about how it all works.
Speaking as a vet and knowing many vets, I don’t believe most of them think protesters should be run over. Maybe I’m in a bubble, and I’m wrong. We used to say, I don’t agree with what you say, but I’ll fight to the death for your right to say it. So, on the one hand, yes, the person can encourage vets to run over protesters, as it’s their right, but I find their sentiment sublimely hateful, ignorant, and depressing.
This song captured how appalled some of us were then. I remember being surprised that my friends were unaware of the Kent State shootings or what it was all about. Their parents were aware but guarded. Looking back, I grasp how conservative that housing plan where I lived was at the time.
Listen to the song, though, and the chorus, “Four dead in Ohio,” stays with you.
Michael Seidel, writer 