This post is going to rile a bunch of you up, so I want to say simmer down right now. You’re going to get the chance to have your say at the end of this post.
But for now, the floor is MINE. And here it begins.
There are certain songs that are played on the radio that I get excited for no matter how many times I’ve heard them. I get all giddy and dancey and if I’m in my car I roll my windows down and turn the music up loud so everyone can hear the beauty of Sweet Home Alabama and therefore know just how cool I am. Yup. That’s me. I’m the one who is SUPERcool and I want you to KNOW it, guy standing at the bus stop. You’re a straight up asshole if you don’t love Sweet Home Alabama. And this is coming from someone who has an extensive collection of hardcore punk.
I have the same reaction to just about anything by John Cougar (not Mellancamp). THEN there are the songs you rarely hear on the radio which is a whole ‘nother stratosphere of music euphoria. For me that includes Ramones, Yaz, Elvis Costello, and all but one song from Talking Heads. (more on that later) I still get pretty pumped up over hearing Adele on the radio even though any sane person would be sick to death of that CD after playing it over and over and over and over and over and over at home. But I’m not.
I love every and all musical genres (with the exception of new country which I think should be called country for people whose soul was eaten by a sequin). Yes, I know, this is where a lot of you are getting irate. Listening to new country is like listening to a bunch of 15 year old suburban white boys sing the blues. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. I love Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline and the rest of them. I equally love singer songwriters, jazz, classical, and rap. I think Eminem is a genius and Japan was the most underrated band of the 70’s. I still love all the alternative music I listened to in the 80’s yet also have a special place in my heart for Michael Jackson. The last person I thought was a true musical genius was Amy Winehouse. The point of all of this is to let you know I love music. All of it. (with the exception of sequin cowboys and cowgirls … rhinestone cowboys on the other hand are A okay by me)
At this very moment I can barely get this post written because I’m listening to Prince’s Purple Rain and I’m pretty sure I’m actually channeling Prince. You know how that is. When a song is so good and you love it so much you feel that just by listening to it, maybe lip syncing or singing if you’re the type, YOU are the song. You feel every single emotion in the song. YOU are the champion, YOU won’t stop believin’, YOU are a tiny dancer, the walrus, the wrecking ball.
That’s the beauty of music. It connects us. It makes us feel in a way nothing else can.
Sometimes that feeling is rage.
If you’re me that feeling of rage might come about when you hear Rock Lobster by The B52s. If you’re me that song might make you want to Google Guantanamo Bay torture tactics. I wish I could take the one and only copy of it left on the planet and smash it into a million pieces, gather it up, burn it, then bury it. In an unmarked grave. Then I’d sit an elephant on top of it.
Songs that stir up similar rage in me are My House by Madness and Burning Down the House by Talking Heads. Both bands had so many songs that were so much better but for whatever reason these two were the most radio friendly I guess. They may be friends with radio but they are not friends with me.
So there you have it. The songs I hate and WISH someone would officially retire from radio play (and wedding play and bar play and bar mitzvah play and bat mitzvah play).
Now you get your chance. If you could retire a song from the radio forever and ever amen, which one would it be?
I’m curious and I don’t wanna miss a thing.
Have a good weekend!
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