Although I’m generally a rocker who likes the blues and drifts toward radio music, I’ve been streaming “Ladies’ Night” in my head this week. The impact came from its inclusion in GLOW.
Released in 1979 by Kool and the Gang, I think of “Ladies’ Night” as a disco era staple. More, I thought it captured the essence of that times’ club partying sensibilities. Ladies’ Night was a promotional event to draw in more women by giving them special deals. With more women, more men would be attracted to the club, right? Sure, it’s like honey for bees.
“Ladies’ Night” played to all of that, calling out romantic lady, single baby, and sophisticated mama. These were the people at the disco, right? Come on out, ladies, it’s your night. I regret the song didn’t also address the weary student and hard worker. They were the true partiers.
Besides all of that, I always like the lines, “If you hear any noise, it ain’t the boys, it’s ladies’ night.” Always makes me smile.
I like Pearl Jam, and I like this song, “Alive”. Although released in 1991 and categorized as grunge, it’s a hard-rocking song (with softer moments) like the rock I grew up with in the late sixties and early seventies.
I’m streaming the “Logical Song” by Supertramp today. This little ditty was released in 1979. It remains a relevant song to me. As I grew, I thought I understood logic, but learned that logic is rooted in different areas for people. Where their logic has its roots defines how their logic will be applied and the results. This bastardized version of logic often twists compassion, reality, and common sense.
I later read an interview with the songwriter, Roger Hogdson. Some of his comments about what we’re taught as children stayed with me. I found the interview today after thinking about the song, and post some of it here.
This song was born from the questions that haunted me about what is the deeper meaning of life. Throughout childhood, we are told and taught so many things, and yet we are rarely told anything about the purpose of life. We are taught how to function outwardly, but are rarely guided to explore and find out who we are inwardly. From the innocence and wonder of childhood to the confusion of adolescence that often ends in the cynicism and disillusionment of adulthood, so many end their lives having no idea of who they truly are and what they came here to learn. In “The Logical Song,” I ask the fundamental question that is so present in the psyche of today’s modern world but rarely spoken out loud—who are we and what is our true purpose of being here? And that is why I believe it continues to strike a chord in people around the world. I’m continually told how the lyric is often used and discussed in schools, which tells you something.
I think about what and how we’re taught as children. Many of the words thrown at us by adults are tossed from anger, irritation, and frustration. The adults issuing the words rarely realized their comments’ impact on young minds because they were dealing with their life and world issues, and speaking from their frustrations, resentments, and irritations. (I prefer to think that the adults didn’t realize it, and weren’t being callous or deliberate in what they said, knowing what it would do to a young mind.)
But sometimes, there were adults who understood. They were the ones building us up, giving us confidence, and pressing us to read, learn, and think.
More of the Kinks today, courtesy of nothing but the random firing of neurons that develop my neural stream.
In retrospect, I think I can track a rough, macro line of the neurons firing from a dream about kinetic energy to brainstorming about kinetic time (and imaginary- and anti-time), Chi-particles (and there most certainly must be anti-Chi-particles) and the arrows of time, to writing like crazy, to sitting back and thinking about the series in progress (Incomplete States) (and novel in progress (Good-bye, Hello)) to imagining people’s reaction upon reading the series that I must be ignorant and crazy. From there, I jump to fantasy, (because, I imagine them saying, “He’s living in a fantasy world, writing that stuff,”) and, voilà, I hear the Kinks’ recording of “A Rock ‘n Roll Fantasy”.
From the Misfits album of 1978, here’s “A Rock ‘n Roll Fantasy”
I had a wild night of dreams. After awakening, feeding the cats, and thinking about the dreams, I began humming this song from 1972. Because the dream had large segments about seeing and trying to understand what I was seeing, I realized my mind had started streaming, “Doctor My Eyes” by Jackson Browne. The song came out when I was sixteen and straying along the hinterlands border between being a child and an adult. (Even at sixty-two, I still frequently reel and weave along that border.) I laughed at the connections my mind had managed to find between life, the dream, and memories.
I found this live version today and just went with the flow.
I quite enjoy this group’s first album from when I first heard a song from it. Then, with playing it, it grew to be one of my quiet favorites from the 1980s.
Of course, The Traveling Wilburys members – Jeff Lynne, George Harrison, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, and Roy Orbison – were musically gifted, established, and well-known. While none of that guarantees success or recognition, it worked out pretty good for them and us with that first album, The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1. I think I can select any song on that album and sing the words without issue.
In a lovely piece of cynicism, my mind looked at the map of Oregon’s wildfires today and the smoky blue sky outside and began channeling Boston’s “Smokin'” from 1976.
I don’t know how I became so cynical. Of course, my mother is cynical, as is my father, so it could be in my genes. Or it could be from all those protests during my formative years in the 1960s, or the corrupting influence of rock and roll. Maybe it was all the reading I did when I was a child, or how the stars were aligned when I was born or conceived, or my years of government service.
The eighties had a lot of music going on. (I know, like, what decade in the last hundred years hasn’t had a lot of music going on?) One song that popped up in my stream this week is “Your Love” by “The Outfield”.
The song came out in 1986, a few weeks after the Challenger disaster. For some reason, they’re linked in my mind, not in a cause and effect way, but as part of the montage of existence and life that was taking place when the Challenger exploded.
After hearing “Your Love” a few times, I bought their CD, Play Deep. It didn’t really take me anywhere, though, and was relegated to storage in the CD drawers.
I still like this song, though. The vocal style reminds me of the Australian rock band, Men At Work. “Your Love” is a decent song for streaming while walking along hot city streets.
