Today’s choice is a walking song. Rain hammered everything as I strode along. Into this streamed George Ezra’s song, “Shotgun” (2018). “Shotgun”‘s beat is conducive to keeping a good energetic song, and I enjoy his voice, especially in the chorus when he sings, “I’ll be riding shotgun underneath the hot sun feeling like a someone.” As always, I feel a need to mention that I’m always surprised when I see Ezra because his voice makes me imagine he looks differently.
Good song to help you feel amused, and feel like someone. Hope you enjoy it.
Marcy Playground’s 1997 song has so little to do with waiting for my wife that I laughed. It’s a song I enjoy the song’s lyrics and John Wozniak’s delivery. I used to stream it often while walking around. It might have returned to the infinite organic playlist.
After another night of peculiar dreams that ended with Boomtown Rats singing “I Don’t Like Mondays”(hello, it’s Friday), and streaming some Brian Seltzer, “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” arrived in the stream. I had the dubious enjoyment of Bob Dylan’s original version alternating with the Guns n’ Roses cover. Clapton’s reggae version slipped in there a few times, as did the a recording of Tom Petty singing it with Bob Dylan.
Although I prefer Bob’s original song, the Guns n’ Roses’ cover (1990) dominated today, so I went with it. Had to have a shot of coffee before I stopped feeling like I was knocking on heaven’s door.
Walking through the town that’s my home, the many vacant faces I encountered coaxed “1979” by the Smashing Pumpkins (1996) into my stream.
So many people use vacant, unwilling or unable to look at others. Their faces are often empty and sad. Wealthy, poor, homeless, students, male and female, I wonder what’s going on with them? Does life have them distracted, or are they hollow people?
Always something to think about when you’re walking, you know? Distractions from the dreams, they often end up as additions to the writing in progress.
It was a blah night of sleeping. Weird dreams, of course. At a convention. I’d brought my own coffee. Had a huge bag of roasted beans. They kept spilling out of the bag, but also my coat and pants pockets. That was just one of many bizarre elements.
After I rose, I remained groggy. Rainy and chilly outside, but I liked that. Wanted some upbeat music but the stream found nothing. Started drifting through Foreigner, Free, Foghat. Like, why am I going through groups that start with F? Can I buy a clue. Then Canned Heat, the Doors, and The Allman Brothers played a bit.
Wasn’t until I was making breakfast when something suitable, something that arrived for this low-energy hump day.
Here’s Prince, ’84, “Let’s Go Crazy”. Let’s get nuts.
After reading some news last night and this morning, my anger spilled over. “You must be evil,” I said in my head to several of the articles’ principals, evil for how their minds work, evil for their indifference about what their actions do to the world or other creatures, evil for their willingness to rationalize murdering and victimizing.
From that came, quite deliberately, Chris Rea’s 1989 song, “You Must Be Evil”.
How ’bout a little new wave on a Monday morning? Something slightly enigmatic from Duran Duran, something from 1984.
Nineteen Eighty-Four, la novel, had a heavy impact on many of us. False information from the government? Perpetual war, and war as a marketing tool? Big brother, and being spied upon, marked as an enemy of the state if you didn’t conform, with everything constantly monitored?
Rocking out to Bare Naked Ladies “One Week” (1998) in my mindstream as I walked today. Why them? Not sure of the stream’s origins. Here are the lines that were in my mind:
Chickity China the Chinese chicken
You have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin’
Watchin’ X-Files with no lights on
We’re dans la maison
I hope the Smoking Man’s in this one
Like Harrison Ford I’m getting frantic
Like Sting I’m tantric
Like Snickers, guaranteed to satisfy
The song’s weird rap lyrics, strung around the fight between a couple, appeals to me because of its insights. The guy singing it knows how this fight went, and he knows how reconciliation will go, and he’s laughing at it. Most of us develop these insights into relationships. We know the little steps followed between growing annoyance, rising anger, the fight or disagreement, and the subsequent make-up.
It might be today’s sunny weather that kicked this song into the stream. We were house shopping in California when this song was released and rose in 1998. The connections could be that I was thinking, it’s a a beautiful day. Not being satisfied with that, I went on, flashing on sunshine splashing off waves and lamenting, I wish I was at the ocean. That triggered memories of glorious days in Half Moon Bay, where we eventually bought a place to live.
Or, maybe all that is just bullshit, and my mind just heard a noise that triggered the song, and so it began.
After a night of interesting dreams – no family, games or military, but soup, spilling, and reach – I awoke and turned to thinking about the novel-in-progress. I focused on where I’d stopped yesterday, conducting a what’s-next exercise. Then I catapulted into more generalities before spinning the wheel to think about the greater story.
The muses were present and engaged, so it was a comfortable exercise. One said, “We can do this,” and another said, “I know we can.” “Yes, we can,” a third said.
That’s when I realized that they were channeling a 1973 Pointer Sisters song, “Yes We Can Can”. Although mostly about politics, change, and unity, it’s a powerful, energetic song about trying and confidence, too.
We got to iron out our problems
and iron out our quarrels
and try to live as brothers.
And try to find peace within
without stepping on one another.
And do respect the women of the world.
Remember you all have mothers.
Nineteen seventy-three. It was yesterday, and faraway. Here we are, dealing with madness in the White House, and setting up for more military conflict in the Middle-East. You know, because bombing other lands has all gone sooo well.
Michael Seidel, writer 