Between 1996-1998, this song played on my Walkman EVERY DAY. Enjoi!
Posted tagged ‘Music’
As some of you know, I kinda hate country music. Haaaaaaaate. Like a preacher hates the dingdang devil. I have called country music “the soundtrack to lynching.” And that’s not historically inaccurate! Growing up in the South, when I’d hear country music in an establishment, I would make the hastiest departure that I could. There’s something about the twang of a banjo that gets a lotta rednecks amped – better safe than sorry.
That said…I like these songs. Very, VERY much. And I can sing the SHIT out of every single one of ‘em. So, once again, I get to wear the hypocrite cap. Fine, whatever. Come through here and take my Black card if you want to, ahown care. If Aretha Franklin had stopped smoking thirty years ago I wouldn’t even be looking in country music’s damn direction. Have you heard her recently? Her voice sounds like a rusty Buick tryna crank up. Anyway…here’s my songs. Don’t judge me.
Fellow buxom, bubbly Capricorn, Mizz Dolly Parton…
And, of course, my unofficial relationship anthem (I sang this in the shower once, to the endless amusement of a certain former lover, LOL), Shania’s best. Her twang continues to baffle me – she’s from Canada – but apparently being gorgeous covers a multitude of sins because to my knowledge no one’s ever questioned her about it. Enjoy!
This remains my favorite song by her. “All Woman” is a close second, though. Enjoi!
Before I get this video on, two things I wish everyone knew about Ms. Larrieux:
1.) She’s not Creole. She’s the biracial child of an African-American mother and a White American father with a gotdambed French last name. And for the record, can we STOP with the whole “Creole” exoticization/Blackness-dodging grossness? And by “we” I mean Black people. Who should know better. The shit is embarrassing! /end rant
2.) She’s living proof - if one needed it – that not all Black people can dance. That side-to-side thing she does is…whoo, it’s sad.
Alright. Please enjoy one of my favorite songs and videos.
Okay, so I looooooooove Ebony Bones. Aside from the fact that the lead singer is wacky and awesome in that way that Lady Gaga keeps TRYNA be (yeah, I said it), their music is really unlike anything else out there right now.
I first heard this song last year and fell all the way in love. You should totally download listen to their album – I did! As always, my darlin’ dears, enjoi, et Bonne Année!
Over here at Possum Stew, we smile through our tears. It’s Christmas, dagnabbit!
You know how you can eat an avocado, fresh off the tree, out-of-hand, with no additional embellishments necessary? This song is like that. So I’m gonna keep it short, and just let you…well, enjoy it. (And yes, I am aware of Celine Dion’s cover of this song. Fuck her.)
This one never fails to make me skate-hungry, and it is impossible to hear it and not feel just a little bit better. Really. G’head, try it.
See? Told ya.
So, I am celebrating two wonderful birthdays today! The first, as many of you know, is Sesame Street, which first graced public television 40 years ago today. YAAAAAAAYYYYY!
I’d also like to wish a happy, happy 35th to my most favoritest Scorpio…who is usually lurkin’ around here somewhere. (Yeah, yeah. I see you, homeskillet. Chillax.) To that end, I give y’all what is still an awesomely funky song clip. Sesame Street seemed like the most amazing place in the world, and I really, REALLY wanted to get there. And decades later, I would: Sesame Street, while fictional, was based on a neighborhood in Harlem. Neat, huh? Yup. Anyway, while I finish these posts about cops, Black hair, cartoon villains, and my novel, please sit back and enjoy.
Whle I work on cranking out some quality original content, I want to make sure I celebrate my favorite holiday, Halloween, properly. This video makes me nostalgic for my younger, wilder days in NYC.* The freaks come out at night, y’all. I have a surprising soft spot for Mista Dangerous. If Vanity and Prince had stayed together and had a son, this would be him. Arrogant, raunchy, a little bit of an asshole, and unabashedly himself. I hope you like this song, too.
*My so-called “younger, wilder days” in NYC? They were literally, like, days. The last time I was at a party like the one shown in the video I was 24, and by 25 I was DONE with clubs and crazy shit. Well, done with club-type crazy shit, anyway. Aaaaand now I’ve said too much.
This song was brand spankin’ new out of Canada my first year of college (1996). My roommate received a mix tape (remember those?) from her boyfriend that had this and some other good songs on it. It was played ad nauseum…because that is what Teens in Lurve do. SIGH. Anyway, I wound up loving a LOT of her annoying music. And this song was at the top of the list. I like that it’s properly blues-y, and not so rock-fusion-euw. Hell, maybe you will, too. Enjoy!
It’s fall, and I am celebrating! Bizarre sense of romantic entitlement aside (“Give me what I deserve ’cause it’s my right”? Girl, that’s crazy-assed birther talk. Next thing you know you’ll be talking about how you want “your” America back…), this one always brings a wistful smile to my lips. I looooove Lucinda Williams, who penned and originally performed this song, but credit where it’s due. A nicely done cover is a nicely done cover. Now, some people insist that this is a country song (it’s not), and the video itself is less than spectacular (hey, it was the early ’90s) but I still adore it to pieces. And – BONUS! – I can still sing the hell out of it. Enjoy!
Like many children of the eighties (God bless our scarred and Day-Glo’ed souls) I was repeatedly shown – subjected to? – the 1977 Disney “classic” Pete’s Dragon. By the time I was six or seven, I knew all the songs by heart. I really, really loved Helen Reddy’s voice and old-timeydresses with the frills and stuff. Also, I loooooved lighthouses, which were the perfect blend of the familiar (on the beach) and exotic (“There’s rocks on the beach? And it’s COLD? Wowwww…”) to me.
Fast-forward to 1991. I’m 13, a fan of New Jack Swing, and a member of my school’s chorus. The 7th grade group is assigned this song for our spring concert…along with some Phantom nonsense ’cause that was what every school choral director in America was doing in 1991. Seriously, we all owe Andrew Lloyd Webber a collective nut-punch. Anyway, because I already knew the song by heart, I was deputized to lead the other altos through it during the first few rehearsals. (BTW, that “praaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyer” part is a bitch. In the span of a few seconds vibratto is transformed from an option to a crutch to a spear through your guts.) As corny as this song is, it was actually a lot of fun to do, and our concert was really good. For, you know, middle school.
Fast forward, present day. I’m 31, homesick, and listening to the Walt Disney song collection on cassette as I’m chopping onions and bell peppers to make spaghetti like my mom. I haven’t listened to these tapes, which were a birthday gift from a friend in middle school, in years. I know that Disney is, in fact, the Devil, so I have some grown-up reservations about the corporate side of it. Disney’s perpetuation of racist caricaturing is hardly a secret, and even its contemporary treatment of its characters of color and women is questionable. More than anything, though, I’m disturbed by the manufacture/commodification of Childhood Innocence and its willful ignorance of reality – often at the expense, ironically, of the souls of children. So yeah, I got some issues. Having said all that, when that anthem of benign racism “Zip A Dee Doo Dah”came on, my progressive anti-racist ass hummed right the hell along and kept chopping.
As I was unpeeling cloves of garlic for my sauce, the familiar strains of this inescapable song suddenly filled my apartment. I paused at the cutting board, closing my eyes and smiling for just a moment as Reddy’s sweet voice hush-a-byed the sharper edges of my melancholy away. An old song, in so many ways, can be like an old flame: you forget how much you loved it until you hear from it again, and everything comes flooding back. It was like that, but in a good way. I hope you like it, too.