A Monday in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)
Some wisdom runs true whether you're 19 or much much older, and that gets us to this week's installment, Debora Iyall and the boys doing "Never Say Never," something you can't help but learn as ever keeps your never further at bay. The song, of course, rides on its infamous chorus couplet, which isn't just a sly come-on but also rhymes "better" and "together," suffering slant rhymes, hinting that the two won't always ever lock-step click no matter how much the bassline pulses its sexy slide. The name of the group is Romeo Void, after all.
Still a wonderful song for an undergrad to latch onto, a skittery dance that makes one re-think sexy as attitude and force and not just looks, and then Benjamin Bossi blasts and blats his sax and you knew what that meant, even young. The song so metallic and gimlet-eyed you want to identify, to be part of the cool San Fran hipsters smashing that glass that says guitar as the guitar you hear sheds its sharp shards. But in your heart of hearts, it's "Flashflood" you prefer, all ballsy ballady angst, cause you're soft and you know it. It's ok, Iyall does, too.
Labels: monday misty memory musings
posted by George at 12:43 PM
5 Comments:
One of my all time favorites, and it still holds up, espcially that nasty sax against the her spoken word. Ms. Iyall also published some poetry and she, as the local paper unpoetically calls us, is an ex-Fresnan.
Still a great tune.
I remember being hugely disappointed when I finally saw Ms. Iyall. I'd pictured her as a cross between Chrissie Hynde and Deborah Harry. What can I say? I was shallow young man.
I remember that surprise too, E-6. For a girl in high school--well, for me--it was a pleasant surprise, as if she was the proof I didn't see much in San Diego that sexy wasn't just about fitting a specific physical expectation. One thing to "know" something, another to see it dancing on MTV. Thanks, Iyall!
A new experience for me George: I actually know the band and the song--I even have the album. I hope this startling revelation doesn't diminish your pleasure in Misty Monday memories.
My friends Bob and Barbara and I used to vary the infamous choral couplet to terrorize the president of the graduate student organization, a big fat guy already in his forties, named Pat O'Neill, a notorious conservative, been around so long he was living on money from graduate student organization accounts nobody else knew about. We'd leave little notes for him like, "How much would you devour if you had more power."
The guy ultimately won the lottery, paid off the money he stole, and was able to stay out of jail. His comment in the paper, when asked how the money would affect him: "I've always been a prick, so I don't need to change." In the same article, a philosophy professor lamented: "Pat O'Neill winning the lottery raises that ancient question asked by Job: Why does God let the conservatives prosper."
A year of two later after our less than divinely successful terror campaign, Bob and Barbara moved to SF and lived for a while near the sax player for Romeo Void (or maybe the drummer). Barbara used to see him on the street and in the local coffee shop and wrote that something in his eyes said never say never.
Sorry, everyone, for stooping so low that I wrote about music Patrick knows. I will aim to be more obscure next time.
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