Morning Minute that Might Make Me Make It Through the Day
Solstice is just around the calendar's corner, all you druidic boys and (gar-)goyles, so it seems it might be pleasing to have a daily summer feature at INOTBB, as one way to trick me into believing it is summer even though I live in Santa Barbara where seasons are mostly vestigial. At first I thought I could just keep a running score of what's the most over-played (definition: played) song on the lite rock station so lite it's actually called KLITE, like it should be proud of the fact, that my next-cube-neighbor plays. While "Don't Stop Believing" lost its early lead to "The Rose," of late "Take It to the Limit" and "Tiny Dancer" have made their steadily midtempo slogs towards the crown.
But such a feature will just keep me focussed on pain, and that's not what summer's about (plus they played "Always" by Stevie Wonder yesterday afternoon, so I'm cutting the station a bit of slack).
Instead, I'm going to keep running with the Bérubé idea that I already made use of yesterday. That even means with today's entry I already have a series of two, and as the lines of dialogue go in Vertigo, two people together can't wander, they have to be be headed somewhere (although let's not keep with that movie's metaphor, as we would then be careening towards one of our horrible deaths).
Instead, let's turn to Laurie Anderson back when she didn't mind singing things one might actually call a song. (It's for another entry to decide if it was growing old, 9/11 or Lou Reed who made her too serious for her own good.) On the fine CD Strange Angels (1989) there's the cut "Baby Doll" that opens with the line, "I don't know about your brain, but my brain is really...bossy." The key is Anderson holds out on that "bossy" as long as the music will let her, which isn't really long, but long enough. 'Cause what else should a brain be? And what if we can refuse its marching orders? And why is bossy just a funny word? Don't know about you, but it's a pleasure to have to think about a pop song.
But such a feature will just keep me focussed on pain, and that's not what summer's about (plus they played "Always" by Stevie Wonder yesterday afternoon, so I'm cutting the station a bit of slack).
Instead, I'm going to keep running with the Bérubé idea that I already made use of yesterday. That even means with today's entry I already have a series of two, and as the lines of dialogue go in Vertigo, two people together can't wander, they have to be be headed somewhere (although let's not keep with that movie's metaphor, as we would then be careening towards one of our horrible deaths).
Instead, let's turn to Laurie Anderson back when she didn't mind singing things one might actually call a song. (It's for another entry to decide if it was growing old, 9/11 or Lou Reed who made her too serious for her own good.) On the fine CD Strange Angels (1989) there's the cut "Baby Doll" that opens with the line, "I don't know about your brain, but my brain is really...bossy." The key is Anderson holds out on that "bossy" as long as the music will let her, which isn't really long, but long enough. 'Cause what else should a brain be? And what if we can refuse its marching orders? And why is bossy just a funny word? Don't know about you, but it's a pleasure to have to think about a pop song.
posted by George at 9:30 AM
2 Comments:
Check the time stamp and feel the pain along with me: goddam Randy Meisner is "Taking It to the Limit" one more time, or the one hundredth more time, I'm not sure.
Just to keep today's tallies running, "The Rose" did bloom once again, but the Eagles got to both "Take It Easy" and drop yet another 'lude with "Peaceful, Easy Feeling."
Dante missed a circle, methinks.
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