Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
As commercials rev up — “Come see us. We’re all wearing masks and are following the guidelines and taking precautions!” — and election day grows nearer, everybody is trying to seduce us as consumers and voters in America.
Buy, buy, buy! Vote for me, vote for me!
It’s right in my head that today’s theme music is Billy Squier singing “Everybody Wants You” back in 1982.
Every once in a while during my life, I encountered a person (or group) that so infuriate me, that I think, “You know…if I had the means…”
Know what I’m talking about? Right, getting a gun and putting them down because the world would be better without them. Maybe planting a little C4. It seems so easy on TV.
But I’m not that kind, except sometimes in my writing. Still, the wistfulness of sometimes solving a problem ala “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” as AC/DC proposed back in ’76 seizes me, ya know?
Yeah.
Today’s offering has no roots in cats, dreams, politics, or news. This 1974 hit just started playing in my head. Specifically, the chorus jumped to mind:
Life is a rock, but the radio rolled me
Gotta turn it up louder, so my DJ told me
Life is a rock, but the radio rolled me
At the end of my rainbow lies a golden oldie
h/t to Genius.com
Recognize it? I’m impressed if you do. The song references ninety-two songs, dances, bands, performers, and companies of the pop era to that point.
Give a listen to “Life Is a Rock (But the Radio Rolled Me)” by Reunion, please.
Today brought a 1995 song from Collective Soul.
“December” is about endings and breaks from what’s going on. For Ed Roland, the songwriter, it’s about parting with the band’s manager. Pour moi, I pull the sarcastic and bitter sense of weariness from the sound: it’s done. Let’s end this, and this is just the polarized, argumentative state of the United States. I went to see Trump and the disastrous GOP reign end. The sooner that comes, the happier I’ll be.
On to the music.
Woke up hot at three-ish. As I reviewed dreams, got up and drank water, and then opened the back door to entertain cool night air, my mind began streaming Blue Oyster Cult and “Burnin’ for You” (1981).
My mind seems to have a song ready for any moment. I imagine a team of people up there. Males and females are armed with servers loaded with music. Sitting on swivel chairs, they stay poised to begin songs for each sight, sound, thought, emotion, and memory.
“Burnin’ for You” works on multiple levels. Fer instance, It addresses homes in a major way. That’s fittin’ for ‘merica, where Homeland Security and police battle protesters as jobs and savings dwindle and eviction notices fly, leaving folks without homes. BOC catches that:
Home in the valley
Home in the city
Home isn’t pretty
Ain’t no home for me
Yet, priorities: save the businesses! Protect the billionaires! Grow the military!
Sorry. Jumped onto my anti-GOP train as led by 45 hisself. I’ll’ stop now. Here’s the music.
Went out at eleven last night. Cool and clear under a sharp moon and a starry blanket, it was the type of night that prompts enthusiastic prose.
A shooting star whizzed past, gladdening me. I always view them as a good omen. Back inside, I fed cats and replenished food and water bowls. Then, putting away the laundry, a 1967 Boyce & Hart song tottered in.
Yes, this was my Saturday night. I don’t know why “I Wonder What She’s Doing Tonight” came out of the memory jukebox.
You might know of Boyce & Hart as the duo behind much of the Monkees. It’s a convoluted pop episode involving TV and Bob Kirschner, but this is definitely a song from another era.
Maybe that’s why it spoke to me on a quiet Saturday night.
My dreams returned last night. I awoke feeling fantastic. The air was clear and cool, and my energy was flowing like a river during the spring melt off. The perfect song for this moment, I decided, was a kick back in feeling, style, and spirit. For that, I summoned “Old Time Rock and Roll” and Bob Seger from 1978.
This ’83 live version brings it all home. Give it a listen.
Got up from bed at the crack of cat (hmmm, that sounded better in my head) and began channeling Jimi Hendrix, “Stone Free” (1966).
The lyrics attracted me as sort of counter to my day, as I’m being ‘forced’ to socialize. (Yeah, I’m such a whiner. Poor, poor, pity poor me.)
Stone free, to do what I please
Stone free, to ride the breeze
Stone free, I can’t stay
I got to, got to, got to get away right now
Yeah, alright
h/t to Genius.com
I dreamed a black man in black clothes came by and fixed my arm. He was upbeat about it all.
Thinking that over, I opened my eyes and checked the time: 6:01. Not needing to get up and wanting more sleep, I told myself, I’ll just close my eyes for a moment.
My mind answered, “I close my eyes, only for a moment, then the moment’s gone.” Then the rest of the classic rock tune, “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas (1978), swelled in my head.
It’s a good choice as theme music goes. We’re battling over rights, equality, facts and science, trying to preserve our lives, planets, and society while coping with COVID, all to a cacophony of bullshit from the WH. Sometimes I feel like we’re warring nests of ants. Then, looking at the stars, I remember that we’re stardust, born on a cosmic wind.
Blame Paul Krugman for today’s song.
I was reading his post about zombies. You’d conclude, then, that today’s music features music by or about zombies.
Nope.
Krugman addressed Republicans et al who won’t or can’t change their thinking about unemployment compensation, the social safety net, and the economy despite decades of validated data that the Republicans are wrong. I then widened my scope of thought to include civil rights and equality. Voting rights. Police force and violence. Eventually my aperture narrowed to change.
Raise your hand if you’re convinced change is easy. For most, it isn’t. Change messes with psychology and comfort zones, habits and vices, and the way it’s always been versus the way we’d like it to be. Trump and his followers are already demonstrated that they’re mired in tar pits; they can’t and won’t change.
All this brought me to songs about trying to change. There are numerous musical releases about seasons and change. I went with Tracy Chapman’s 1988 song, “Fast Car”.
