Hell, I still love you New York

If you were looking at a CT scan of my heart, this is what you'd see:


Photo ©HouseofJules


On a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer in the mid-90's, alone (in the sense of being by yourself in a place with 7 million other people, which is possibly more alone than you could ever imagine), but excited after having relocated to the place in which I wanted to live ever since I was a kid; fresh off the train in the underground part of Penn Station, doing a trial run to see how long it would take me to get from my new apartment to my new job in my new city. I had a map in my back pocket and knew the address of the graphic design firm I was to start working at the following week, but had no idea how to get myself from where I was to where I needed to be.

All the anticipatory stress I felt about that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I'd unpacked the week before--if not for the entirety of the 6 months I worked after college just to save up for my big move to my new apartment in my new city-- faded away like white noise in the background as I rode one of the escalators up from lower earth to the sidewalk, and the gigantic skyscrapers on 34th street were revealed to me at a slow-boat-to-China rate of speed; my line of vision directed first at their massive entryways, and going up, up, up, and up, trying to take in all the floors of the buildings and the realization of how small I was in comparison, as I was lifted towards street-level.

It was forced acclimation through sensory overload.

I was able to be still, standing on the right side of those electric stairs, while moving upward and gaping at the buildings, smelling the food being cooked at street carts, hearing the roar of traffic and horns, people hustling and bustling; while my heart was thumping louder than ever, welcoming me home. Finally.

Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. Even before I actually lived there, mine resided in New York.

If you were listening to my heartbeat through a stethoscope, this song is what you'd hear:

Ryan Adams. New York, New York
Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July
I had a firecracker waiting to blow
Breakin' like a rocket who was makin' its way
To the cities of Mexico
Lived in an apartment out on Avenue A
I had a tar-hut on the corner of 10th
Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since

And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
The world won't wait, so I better shake
That thing right out there through the door
Hell, I still love you, New York

Found myself a picture that would fit in the folds
Of my wallet and it stayed pretty good
Still amazed I didn't lose it on the roof of the place
When I was drunk and I was thinking of you
Every day the children they were singing their tune
Out on the streets and you could hear from inside
Used to take the subway up to Houston and 3rd
I would wait for you and I'd try to hide

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York

I remember Christmas in the blistering cold
In a church on the upper west side
Babe, I stood there singing, I was holding your arm
You were holding my trust like a child
Found a lot of trouble out on Avenue B
But I tried to keep the overhead low
Farewell to the city and the love of my life
At least we left before we had to go

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want 'em to
So we better shake this old thing out the door

I'll always be thinkin' of you
I'll always love you though New York
I'll always love you though New York, New York, New York

-

Luckily, I made some g r e a t friends there who give me an excuse, if I need one, to visit my heart at least once a year.

****

Open up your heart and I'll set you free

In 1990, my dad handed down his beloved land yacht, otherwise known as the Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight (which he'd purchased brand new in 1981). It was my junior year of high school and I had a busy schedule between school, work, and soccer. The first thing I did was to replace the 8-track stereo with a cassette player, thankyouverymuch. Other than that, the car was perfect. It had plenty of room for all of my friends, rode like a dream and once you learn to parallel park a 1981 Olds Ninety-Eight, you can parallel park ANYTHING. I swear, that thing was longer than a limousine (that's what she said).

I even had personalized plates that I've kept to this day, though they're in a box, not on my current car. I will save that story for another time because if you don't know me personally, it's kind of embarrassing, if points of pride can be embarrassing. Especially since my dad suggested it. Next time you buy me drinks, I'll tell you the story, okay? We'll make it a win-win situation.

Anyway, I must show you a couple of random pictures I found through a quick online search so you can really understand my love for this beauty:


My Olds had 4 doors so it was even LONGER than the one pictured, but you get the idea.


The interior was plush, baby. I'm talking, nicer than some of the furniture we all grew up with. Check it:


Awww yeah...

This car was built for loud music, and I took full advantage of that new cassette-playing stereo. I've always had a broad spectrum of musical taste, but for about 2 months during the summer after graduation, I played this tape non-stop:


Color Me Badd's "C.M.B.", a 1991 musical opus.

I have a steel trap memory for just about everything in my life, including things people have told me about themselves. The tiniest of details get stuck in my brain and it's fun to freak out friends by pulling some fun fact out that they don't even remember telling anybody. It's also good for blackmail and song lyrics. So, to this day I still remember every word of the songs on that C.M.B. tape. Of course I have it on my iTunes, so they still pop up on shuffle and always make me smile.

This time of year, there are a lot of holiday parties which many times have karaoke. If Color Me Badd songs are available, that is what I'll pick. Every time. Specifically, my personal favorite: "I Wanna Sex You Up". Frankly, I don't even need the karaoke excuse. My friends (especially Jenny) can vouch for the fact that I've often broken into this song during approximately 12,784 of our phone conversations.




Related: One of my Facebook statuses from last September, with my boo Will chiming in:


Truth.


All I'm saying is, you've been warned:






Click HERE to follow me on Twitter, fool!

****

You'll never get the paw prints out of the hen house now

...aaaaand THIS is why OK Go & dogs will always win over anything & cats.



White Knuckles
You'll never get that taste, out of your mouth
You'll never get the paw prints, out of the hen house now
And you can't go back, same way you came
Round all the pieces up, but they just dont fit the same

White knuckles
Maybe it's not so bad
So let your hair down now

White knuckles
Yeah, maybe it's not so bad
Aww, go ahead and let it down

So come and let it all out, let it bleed
Did you get what you want? Did you get what you need?
Behind the lines, behind the wall
Tell me what's the bet you made, was it that bad after all?

White knuckles
Yeah, maybe it's not so bad
So let your hair down now

White knuckles
Aww, maybe it's not so bad
Just let it all come down now

So just have fun, it's far enough
Everybody needs to sleep at night, everybody needs a crutch
But couldn't good, be good enough?
Cause nothin' ever doesn't change but nothin' changes much

Yeah, maybe it's not so bad
So let your hair down now

White knuckles
Aww, maybe it's not so bad
Just let it all come down now


More OK Go awesomeness HERE.

****

Hell, I still love you New York

If you were looking at a CT scan of my heart, this is what you'd see:


Photo ©HouseofJules


On a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer in the mid-90's, alone (in the sense of being by yourself in a place with 7 million other people, which is possibly more alone than you could ever imagine), but excited after having relocated to the place in which I wanted to live ever since I was a kid; fresh off the train in the underground part of Penn Station, doing a trial run to see how long it would take me to get from my new apartment to my new job in my new city. I had a map in my back pocket and knew the address of the graphic design firm I was to start working at the following week, but literally had no idea how to get myself from where I was to where I needed to be.

All the anticipatory stress I felt about that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I'd unpacked the week before--if not for the entirety of the 6 months I worked after college just to save up for my big move to my new apartment in my new city-- faded away like white noise in the background as I rode one of the escalators up from lower earth to the sidewalk, and the gigantic skyscrapers on 34th street were revealed to me at a slow-boat-to-China rate of speed; my line of vision directed first at their massive entryways, and going up, up, up, and up, trying to take in all the floors of the buildings and the realization of how small I was in comparison, as I was lifted towards street-level. It was a kind of forced-acclimation through sensory overload.

I was able to be still, standing on the right side of those electric stairs, while moving upward and gaping at the buildings, smelling the food being cooked at street carts, hearing the roar of traffic and horns, people hustling and bustling; while my heart was thumping louder than ever, welcoming me home. Finally.

Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. Even before I actually lived there, mine resided in New York.

If you were listening to my heartbeat through a stethoscope, this song is what you'd hear:

Ryan Adams. New York, New York
Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July
I had a firecracker waiting to blow
Breakin' like a rocket who was makin' its way
To the cities of Mexico
Lived in an apartment out on Avenue A
I had a tar-hut on the corner of 10th
Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since

And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
The world won't wait, so I better shake
That thing right out there through the door
Hell, I still love you, New York

Found myself a picture that would fit in the folds
Of my wallet and it stayed pretty good
Still amazed I didn't lose it on the roof of the place
When I was drunk and I was thinking of you
Every day the children they were singing their tune
Out on the streets and you could hear from inside
Used to take the subway up to Houston and 3rd
I would wait for you and I'd try to hide

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York

I remember Christmas in the blistering cold
In a church on the upper west side
Babe, I stood there singing, I was holding your arm
You were holding my trust like a child
Found a lot of trouble out on Avenue B
But I tried to keep the overhead low
Farewell to the city and the love of my life
At least we left before we had to go

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want 'em to
So we better shake this old thing out the door

I'll always be thinkin' of you
I'll always love you though New York
I'll always love you though New York, New York, New York

-

Luckily, I made some g r e a t friends there who give me an excuse, if I need one, to visit my heart at least once a year.

****

Rube Goldberg machine & a marching band? Ok, Go buy their album!

Who has more fun with their music videos than Chicago's own OK Go? Nobody. You remember their treadmill video for Here it Goes Again, right? I'd embed it but their record label won't allow it, and that has been a source of some aggravation for the band. Their new single, This Too Shall Pass has not one but TWO kickass vids, both of which I *AM* able to embed for your enjoyment purposes. I'll let OK Go's Damian tell you why, right after this cool-as-hell Rube Goldberg machine version of their video. The marching band version is after the band's open letter to "the people of the world".

To the people of the world, from OK Go:

This week we released a new album, and it’s our best yet. We also released a new video – the second for this record – for a song called This Too Shall Pass, and you can watch it here. We hope you’ll like it and comment on it and pass the link along to your friends and do that wonderful thing that that you do when you’re fond of something, share it. We want you to stick it on your web page, post it on your wall, and embed it everywhere you can think of.

Unfortunately, as of now you can’t embed diddlycrap. And depending on where you are in the world, you might not even be able to watch it.

We’ve been flooded with complaints recently because our YouTube videos can’t be embedded on websites, and in certain countries can’t be seen at all. And we want you to know: we hear you, and we’re sorry. We wish there was something we could do. Believe us, we want you to pass our videos around more than you do, but, crazy as it may seem, it’s now far harder for bands to make videos accessible online than it was four years ago.

See, here’s the deal. The recordings and the videos we make are owned by a record label, EMI. The label fronts the money for us to make recordings – for this album they paid for us to spend a few months with one of the world’s best producers in a converted barn in Amish country wringing our souls and playing tympani and twiddling knobs – and they put up most of the cash that it takes to distribute and promote our albums, including the costs of pressing CDs, advertising, and making videos. We make our videos ourselves, and we keep them dirt cheap, but still, it all adds up, and it adds up to a great deal more than we have in our bank account, which is why we have a record label in the first place.

Fifteen years ago, when the terms of contracts like ours were dreamt up, a major label could record two cats fighting in a bag and three months later they’d have a hit. No more. People of the world, there has been a revolution. You no longer give a shit what major labels want you to listen to (good job, world!), and you no longer spend money actually buying the music you listen to (perhaps not so good job, world). So the money that used to flow through the music business has slowed to a trickle, and every label, large or small, is scrambling to catch every last drop. You can’t blame them; they need new shoes, just like everybody else. And musicians need them to survive so we can use them as banks. Even bands like us who do most of our own promotion still need them to write checks every once in a while.

But where are they gonna find money if no one buys music? One target is radio stations (there’s lots of articles out there. here’s one: http://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/news/20…ouse-senate.ars ). And another is our friend The Internutz. As you’ve no doubt noticed, sites like YouTube, MySpace, and Blahzayblahblah.cn run ads on copyrighted content. Back when Young MC’s second album (the one that didn’t have Bust A Move on it) could go Gold without a second thought, labels would’ve considered these sites primarily promotional partners like they did with MTV, but times have changed. The labels are hurting and they need every penny they can find, so they’ve demanded a piece of the action. They got all huffy a couple years ago and threatened all sorts of legal terror and eventually all four majors struck deals with YouTube which pay them tiny, tiny sums of money every time one of their videos gets played. Seems like a fair enough solution, right? YouTube gets to keep the content, and the labels get some income.

The catch: the software that pays out those tiny sums doesn’t pay if a video is embedded. This means our label doesn’t get their hard-won share of the pie if our video is played on your blog, so (surprise, surprise) they won’t let us be on your blog. And, voilá: four years after we posted our first homemade videos to YouTube and they spread across the globe faster than swine flu, making our bassist’s glasses recognizable to 70-year-olds in Wichita and 5-year-olds in Seoul and eventually turning a tidy little profit for EMI, we’re – unbelievably – stuck in the position of arguing with our own label about the merits of having our videos be easily shared. It’s like the world has gone backwards.

Let’s take a wider view for a second. What we’re really talking about here is the shift in the way we think about music. We’re stuck between two worlds: the world of ten years ago, where music was privately owned in discreet little chunks (CDs), and a new one that seems to be emerging, where music is universally publicly accessible. The thing is, only one of these worlds has a (somewhat) stable system in place for funding music and all of its associated nuts-and-bolts logistics, and, even if it were possible, none of us would willingly return to that world. Aside from the smug assholes who ran labels, who’d want a system where a handful of corporate overlords shove crap down our throats? All the same, if music is going to be more than a hobby, someone, literally, has to pay the piper. So we’ve got this ridiculous situation where the machinery of the old system is frantically trying to contort and reshape and rewire itself to run without actually selling music. It’s like a car trying to figure out how to run without gas, or a fish trying to learn to breath air.

So what’s there to do? On the macro level, well, who the hell knows? There are a lot of interesting ideas out there, but this is not the place to get into them. As for our specific roadblock with the video embedding, the obvious solution is for YouTube to work out its software so it allow labels to monetize their videos, wherever on the Internet or the globe they’re being accessed. That’ll surely happen before too long because there’s plenty of money to be made, but it’s more complicated than it looks at first glance. Advertisers aren’t too keen on paying for ads when they don’t know where the ads will appear (“Dear users of FoxxxyPregnantMILFS.com, try Gerber’s new low-lactose formula!”), so there are a lot of hurdles to get over.

In the meantime, the only thing OK Go can do is to upload our videos to sites that allow for embedding, like MySpace and Vimeo. We do that already, but it stings a little. Not only does it cannibalize our own numbers (it tends to do our business more good to get 40 million hits on one site than 1 million hits on 40 sites), but, as you can imagine, we feel a lot of allegiance to the fine people at YouTube. They’ve been good to us, and what they want is what we want: lots of people to see our videos. When push comes to shove, however, we like our fans more, which is why you can take the code at the bottom of this email and embed the “This Too Shall Pass” video all over the Internet.

With or without this embedding problem, we’ll never get 50 zillion views on a YouTube video again. That moment – the dawn of internet video – is gone. The internet isn’t as anarchic as it was then. Now there are Madison Avenue firms that specialize in “viral marketing” and the success of our videos is now taught in business school. But here’s a secret: zillions of hits was never the point. We’re a rock band, and it’s a great gig. Not just because we get to snort drugs off the Queen of England (we do), but because the only thing we are expected to do is make cool stuff. We chase our craziest ideas for a living, and if sharing those ideas takes 40 websites instead of one, it doesn’t make too big a difference to us.

So, for now, here’s the bottom line: EMI won’t let us let you embed our YouTube videos. It’s a decision that bums us out. We’ve argued with them a lot about it, but we also understand why they’re doing it. They’re aware that their rules make it harder for people to watch and share our videos, but, while our duty is to our music and our fans, theirs is to their shareholders, and they believe they’re doing the right thing.

Here’s the embed code for the Vimeo posting:

<object width=”400″ height=”300″><param name=”allowfullscreen” value=”true” /><param name=”allowscriptaccess” value=”always” /><param name=”movie” value=”http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8718627&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=1&amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=&amp;fullscreen=1″ /><embed src=”http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8718627&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;show_title=1&amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=0&amp;color=&amp;fullscreen=1″ type=”application/x-shockwave-flash” allowfullscreen=”true” allowscriptaccess=”always” width=”400″ height=”300″></embed></object><p><a href=”http://vimeo.com/8718627″>OK Go – This Too Shall Pass</a> from <a href=”http://vimeo.com/user2495615″>OK Go</a> on <a href=”http://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a>.</p>

Go forth and put it everywhere, please. And buy our album. It’s great.

Yours Truly,

Damian (on behalf of OK Go)

OK Go - This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

****

Hell, I still love you New York

If you were looking at a CT scan of my heart, this is what you'd see:


Photo ©HouseofJules


On a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer in the mid-90's, alone (in the sense of being by yourself in a place with 7 million other people, which is possibly more alone than you could ever imagine), but excited after having relocated to the place in which I wanted to live ever since I was a kid; fresh off the train in the underground part of Penn Station, doing a trial run to see how long it would take me to get from my new apartment to my new job in my new city. I had a map in my back pocket and knew the address of the graphic design firm I was to start working at the following week, but literally had no idea how to get myself from where I was to where I needed to be.

All the anticipatory stress I felt about that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I'd unpacked the week before--if not for the entirety of the 6 months I worked after college just to save up for my big move to my new apartment in my new city-- faded away like white noise in the background as I rode one of the escalators up from lower earth to the sidewalk, and the gigantic skyscrapers on 34th street were revealed to me at a slow-boat-to-China rate of speed; my line of vision directed first at their massive entryways, and going up, up, up, and up, trying to take in all the floors of the buildings and the realization of how small I was in comparison, as I was lifted towards street-level. It was a kind of forced-acclimation through sensory overload.

I was able to be still, standing on the right side of those electric stairs, while moving upward and gaping at the buildings, smelling the food being cooked at street carts, hearing the roar of traffic and horns, people hustling and bustling; while my heart was thumping louder than ever, welcoming me home. Finally.

Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. Even before I actually lived there, mine resided in New York.

If you were listening to my heartbeat through a stethoscope, this song is what you'd hear:

Ryan Adams. New York, New York
Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July
I had a firecracker waiting to blow
Breakin' like a rocket who was makin' its way
To the cities of Mexico
Lived in an apartment out on Avenue A
I had a tar-hut on the corner of 10th
Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since

And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
The world won't wait, so I better shake
That thing right out there through the door
Hell, I still love you, New York

Found myself a picture that would fit in the folds
Of my wallet and it stayed pretty good
Still amazed I didn't lose it on the roof of the place
When I was drunk and I was thinking of you
Every day the children they were singing their tune
Out on the streets and you could hear from inside
Used to take the subway up to Houston and 3rd
I would wait for you and I'd try to hide

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York

I remember Christmas in the blistering cold
In a church on the upper west side
Babe, I stood there singing, I was holding your arm
You were holding my trust like a child
Found a lot of trouble out on Avenue B
But I tried to keep the overhead low
Farewell to the city and the love of my life
At least we left before we had to go

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want 'em to
So we better shake this old thing out the door

I'll always be thinkin' of you
I'll always love you though New York
I'll always love you though New York, New York, New York

-

Luckily, I made some g r e a t friends there who give me an excuse, if I need one, to visit my heart at least once a year.

Viva la Free Download, Part 3!

Today Coldplay is offering their live album, Left Right Left Right Left as a free download!

Get it HERE! It might take more than one try to even load the page since the whole world is attempting to get it from the same link. Took me about 10 tries, but it's SO worth it!

Maybe he dropped the phone when he saw her number written on the wall

Not since Tommy Tutone's 867-5309 has a song about a telephone been stuck in my head, that is until last year when I saw/heard Shy Child perform Drop the Phone.

I couldn't care less about fashion shows and you'll never catch me sitting at my computer watching people strutting down a regular old catwalk, but this video makes me smile every time. Whoever came up with the idea to have models teetering around a slick stage in skyscraper heels in an effort to win a game of live music-musical chairs at the 2008 Stella McCartney show should get a raise.

None of the models fall, if that's what you're hoping for. In fact they all look to be having a great time and even become quite competitive near the end. Note the projected "play/arrow" and "stop/square" icons projected onto the screen above the stage. Simple and brilliant details like that remind me not to over-think things in my own design work, and really in life itself. My 2nd favorite F-word is Fun, after all.


The lady in the crowd, dancing in her seat at 1:26 is totally me, every time I hear this song.

Had I heard this on the radio without the combined cleverness of the video, I don't know if I would've given the song a fair chance with all that 80's keyboard electronica stuff. They're linked together in my mind, though, and I really do love it. You might not think it's your kind of music when you first hear it, but if you watch/listen to the whole thing twice before making your judgement, I bet you'd like it. I've had it in constant rotation since I bought it and now even my nephews dig it. They're teenagers, so you know, I must be the cool aunt. As if you had any doubt about that.

Drop the Phone is such a great get-off-your-ass-and-get-something-done-today song, so that's what I'm going to do. I have company coming tonight for the weekend and these chairs aren't going to set themselves up in a circle!

Possibly America's new theme song, definitely mine

I have a lot to say about a lot of things but I'm waiting for some kind of outcome/resolution... so in the meantime, I've been breathing deeply, reflecting and trying to keep from banging my head against a brick wall. There was a breaking point this weekend and one of my all-time favorite jams came to mind.

My old friend Scooter (she of "half-n-falf" and "MY Alan Thicke?" fame) & I used to exchange mix tapes throughout high school & college. We both like a wide-range of music and on any one tape there would anyone from Lionel Richie to Pearl Jam to Bad Boy Bill (back when all his stuff was underground). One of the first tapes she sent me after we went away to separate state universities had Father MC/Jodeci's "Everything's Gonna Be Alright" on it, and I couldn't play that song enough. I have it on my iPod now and have been using it as my mantra.

It seems these days, what with the incessant reporting on the state of the economy, unemployment and all the other stress-factors, America needs a theme song. I would love for Obama to start playing this at the top of every press conference & public address. If NPR, CNN & Fox News would replace 6 minutes of their chatter about how things around us are falling apart with this song, I really feel like it would help instill some small seed of confidence that things will eventually turn around. Getting pegged in the noggin all day & night with negativity takes a toll.

So here it is, my gift to you. I hope if you have something eating away at you (be it the economy, your job or anything else causing you stress) that you can get Jodeci's voice--the hook of this 1992 gem-- in your head and let it play over & over when you feel your blood pressure rising. Sometimes you just need somebody to tell you that everything will be okay, and if they invite you to dance it out in the same conversation... even better!

Breathe. Everything's gonna be alright.



See ya moving baby, yeah
And you're lookin good, said you're lookin fine
Everything's gonna be alright, yeah
Let the music take control of your body tonight
Whoa, everything's gonna be alright, it's gonna be alright
Let the music take control of your body tonight

In Memory of Fred Knittle

I'm re-posting the following from October 15th in memory of The Young@Heart chorus' Fred Knittle, who passed away on January 1, 2009. There's a lovely article written about Fred's life HERE.

His performance of Coldplay's Fix You in the Young@Heart documentary has brought me to tears numerous times. See it for yourself at the end of the post, but be sure to read the background story above the video.

If you haven't seen this documentary yet, what are you waiting for?

--

I put in my latest Netflix pick, a documentary called YOUNG@HEART. I've had quite the streak of excellent choices over the past couple of months (see my "I Just Watched" section in the right sidebar), and this one fell right in line with some of the best documentaries I've ever seen:

Double-click on either 'play' arrow if you have trouble with the video

Prepare to be entertained by the uplifting individuals of YOUNG@HEART, a New England senior citizens chorus that has delighted audiences worldwide with their covers of songs by everyone from The Clash to Coldplay. As Stephen Walker’s documentary begins, the retirees, led by their strict musical director, are rehearsing their new show, struggling with a discordant Sonic Youth number and giving new meaning to James Brown’s “I Feel Good.” What ultimately emerges is a funny and unexpectedly moving testament to friendship, creative inspiration, and reaching beyond expectations.

Lately, my mind has been more than a little preoccupied with loved ones I've lost and people in my life who are currently having health issues, so I found myself crying more than once during this moving doc. Every once in a awhile, a good cry is exactly what I need to keep moving forward. Especially when the tears are brought on not only because of a little sadness, but also from profound moments of inspiration, and there are plenty of those in YOUNG@HEART.

One of my favorite songs, Fix You by Coldplay, is featured in YOUNG@HEART. Do you know the story of that song? Chris Martin, lead singer of Coldplay, wrote it for Gwyneth Paltrow (his girlfriend at the time/now his wife), shortly after her father tragically died when he & Gwyneth were in Rome on her 30th birthday. It's a heart-wrenching story all-around. Now try listening to the song Chris wrote for the woman he loves while she was grieving and see how little time it takes you to get misty-eyed. It's a stunningly beautiful song and I always get chills when I hear it.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face, and I

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you


The scene in the documentary as described on the song's Wikipedia page:

Fix You was performed in 2006 by the New England octogenarian chorus group Young@Heart. The group's performance was led by former chorus member Fred Knittle, who suffers from congestive heart failure and breathes with assistance from an oxygen tank.

The performance was originally planned to be a duet between Knittle and Bob Salvini, another former chorus member, but Salvini died shortly before the show. Knittle performed it as a solo, as a tribute to his friend.

OHMYGAH, PASS ME THE KLEENEX. Then, go rent this documentary!

Paging Dr. Jason Seaver! Someone wants to get you alone.

File this under: "Just when you think you know somebody".

Scooter--my friend of 20 years--and I were chatting away while getting ready for a night out. I had my iTunes on shuffle, and about 40 seconds in to Robin Thicke's 2002 breakout hit, When I Get You Alone, she stopped talking in mid-sentence to give it her full attention. It was one of my favorite songs that year, not only for his hot lyrics (flirty words that made me want to paw at him while saying, "RAWR"), but also because he cleverly sampled Walter Murphy's A Fifth of Beethoven:


Thicke, circa 2002


Don't invest all your energy into that background information. You'll need your wits about you when reading what started as a harmless musical discussion and ended with her letting something slip, leading us both into hysterics.

Scooter: "I love this song!"

Me: "Yeah, if he sang this song to me, he'd barely get through the first chorus before I'd start getting handsy."

Scooter: "HA! Typical. Who is it?"

Me: "He goes by 'Thicke'. As in, the son of Growing Pains' Alan Thicke." 

Scooter: "MY Alan Thicke?"

Me: "..."

Smells Like Teen Spirit and chlorine

My first semester of college started in September of 1991. I was already musically-obsessed by that time and quickly bonded with like-minded people, mostly guys. I attended a university boasting of a 5 male-to-1 female ratio. Okay, the university didn't boast about the ratio nearly as much as I did. I'm not going to lie, it was fun being around all of that testosterone and cologne.

I remember whose dorm room I was in the first time I heard Nirvana's Nevermind. We were having a party that involved quarters, red plastic cups and a foam-topped beverage. I was newly 18 at the time, and we were all underage, so don't assume it was an alcoholic beverage or that we were playing a game of quarters. It could just as easily have been that they were charging .25/cup of Sprite. But they weren't. I mean, it was college. C'mon now!

One of our friends worked at the local indie record store, and he came to the party after his closing shift ended. By the time he got there, we were all lazing around on the couch and floor. He made quick work of stepping over the people blocking his way to the stereo. As usual, he had a new CD in his hand, by a band none of the rest of us had ever heard of. We all sat up and leaned in toward the speakers as soon as we heard the opening guitar riffs of the first track, and when it ended, we made him play it again. And again.

"Hello-hello-hello", indeed.

Seventeen years ago, the album with a swimming baby on the cover made it all the way from Seattle to Wisconsin, and we couldn't get enough. It was the beginning of an era, a noticeable shift in our group's collective musical mind-space. Nirvana not only opened the door for this new genre of music, but ripped that door right off the hinges. Grunge had arrived.


The swimming baby aka Spencer Elden, then.

More than 17 years ago, when he was still an infant, Spencer Elden's parents dropped him into a swimming pool in California, where underwater photographer Kirk Weddle was waiting to snap an entire roll of film of the naked, buoyant baby. The picture was later used as the cover image for Nevermind, the second studio LP from a little rock band out of Seattle called Nirvana.

Now, 17-year-old Elden is a high school student, who told MTV News last year that "it's kind of creepy [to think] that that many people have seen me naked — I feel like I'm the world's biggest porn star." Elden recently re-created the iconic album's cover in the same pool at the Rose Bowl Aquatic Center in Pasadena, California, where it was originally shot — only this time, he was wearing shorts. Elden's parents were paid just $200 for allowing him to be photographed back in 1991.

Spencer Elden, now.


Source

Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you

I opted against watching the debate tonight for a couple of reasons:
1) I could barely sit through the first two debates because I was so anxious, and
2) They're going to re-play everything 1,000 times over on all the news channels starting the millisecond after it ends anyway.

Instead, I put in my latest Netflix pick, a documentary called YOUNG@HEART. I've had quite the streak of excellent choices over the past couple of months (see my "I Just Watched" section in the right sidebar), and this one fell right in line with some of the best documentaries I've ever seen:

Double-click on either 'play' arrow if you have trouble with the video

Prepare to be entertained by the uplifting individuals of YOUNG@HEART, a New England senior citizens chorus that has delighted audiences worldwide with their covers of songs by everyone from The Clash to Coldplay. As Stephen Walker’s documentary begins, the retirees, led by their strict musical director, are rehearsing their new show, struggling with a discordant Sonic Youth number and giving new meaning to James Brown’s “I Feel Good.” What ultimately emerges is a funny and unexpectedly moving testament to friendship, creative inspiration, and reaching beyond expectations.

Lately, my mind has been more than a little preoccupied with loved ones I've lost and people in my life who are currently having health issues, so I found myself crying more than once during this moving doc. Every once in a awhile, a good cry is exactly what I need to keep moving forward. Especially when the tears are brought on not only because of a little sadness, but also from profound moments of inspiration, and there are plenty of those in YOUNG@HEART.

One of my favorite songs, Fix You by Coldplay, is featured in YOUNG@HEART. Do you know the story of that song? Chris Martin, lead singer of Coldplay, wrote it for Gwyneth Paltrow (his girlfriend at the time/now his wife), shortly after her father tragically died when he & Gwyneth were in Rome on her 30th birthday. It's a heart-wrenching story all-around. Now try listening to the song Chris wrote for the woman he loves while she was grieving and see how little time it takes you to get misty-eyed. It's a stunningly beautiful song and I always get chills when I hear it.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you.

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face, and I

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you


The scene in the documentary as described on the song's Wikipedia page:

Fix You was performed in 2006 by the New England octogenarian chorus group Young@Heart. The group's performance was led by former chorus member Fred Knittle, who suffers from congestive heart failure and breathes with assistance from an oxygen tank. 

The performance was originally planned to be a duet between Knittle and Bob Salvini, another former chorus member, but Salvini died shortly before the show. Knittle performed it as a solo, as a tribute to his friend.

OHMYGAH, PASS ME THE KLEENEX. Then, go rent this documentary!

Just like Bogie & Bacall

In 1981, my dad bought a brand new Oldsmobile Delta 88 with all the bells & whistles. By bells & whistles, I mean an automatic antenna and an 8-track player. My favorite thing about having a new car was the complimentary 8-track that came with it, and I would very quickly take it as my own and play it for YEARS (literally, years) on the one stereo we had in our house. By stereo, I mean a radio, record player, 8-track and cassette player all-in-one unit. It even had a microphone you could plug in and sing into.... like early karaoke. It was high tech for those days. My favorite song to sing along to was Key Largo by Bertie Higgins.

In 1990, when my dad handed the Olds off to me, I was a junior in high school. Though the car's 8-track player had long-since been replaced with a tape deck, I could still play the original 8-track in my room, because that's where the once "high tech" stereo had come to rest. I owned lots of cassettes and records, but I never got sick of the songs on the 8-track. Especially this one:


The sentiment of this song is universal... AND I LOVE IT!

I know on the surface it seems like a cheesy song, but it made a permanent imprint on me.

Wrapped around each other
Trying so hard to stay warm
That first cold winter together
Lying in each others arms
Watching those old movies
Falling in love so desperately
Honey, I was your hero
And you were my leading lady

We had it all
Just like Bogie and Bacall
Starring in our old late, late show
Sailing away to Key Largo

Here's lookin' at you kid
Missing all the things we did
We can find it once again, I know
Just like they did in Key Largo

Honey, can't you remember
We played all the parts
That sweet scene of surrender
When you gave me your heart
Please say you will
Play it again
'Cause I love you still
Baby, this can't be the end

We had it all
Just like Bogie and Bacall
Starring in our old late, late show
Sailing away to Key Largo

I didn't even know who Bogie & Bacall were or that they starred in movies called Key Largo (or where Key Largo was, for that matter) and Casablanca. What I did know was that one day, when I was old enough, I'd get myself to Key Largo.

That day is today.

There are 6 of us, all flying from different cities into Florida, where we'll drive from Miami down to our rented condo in Key West. I already told everybody that we have to stop in Key Largo on the way down to Key West so I can get a photo of the sign, and then I made them listen to me sing the song to them over the phone so they would realize how serious I am.

I've read that there isn't too much going on in Key Largo these days, but the 8-year-old in me knows that there once was a time that people had it all... just by sailing away to Key Largo.

Hell, I still love you New York

If you were looking at a CT scan of my heart, this is what you'd see:


Photo ©HouseofJules


On a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer in the mid-90's, alone (in the sense of being by yourself in a place with 7 million other people, which is possibly more alone than you could ever imagine), but excited after having relocated to the place I wanted to live in ever since I was a kid; fresh off the train in the underground part of Penn Station, doing a trial run to see how long it would take me to get from my new apartment to my new job in my new city. I had a map in my back pocket and knew the address of the graphic design firm I was to start working at the following week, but literally had no idea how to get myself from where I was to where I needed to be.

All the anticipatory stress I felt about that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I'd unpacked the week before--if not for the entirety of the 6 months I worked after college just to save up for my big move to my new apartment in my new city-- faded away like white noise in the background as I rode one of the escalators up from lower earth to the sidewalk, and the gigantic skyscrapers on 34th street were revealed to me at a slow-boat-to-China rate of speed; my line of vision directed first at their massive entryways, and going up, up, up, and up, trying to take in all the floors of the buildings and the realization of how small I was in comparison, as I was lifted towards street-level. It was a kind of forced-acclimation through sensory overload.

I was able to be still, standing on the right side of those electric stairs, while moving upward and gaping at the buildings, smelling the food being cooked at street carts, hearing the roar of traffic and horns, people hustling and bustling; while my heart was thumping louder than ever, welcoming me home. Finally.

Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. Even before I actually lived there, mine resided in New York.

If you were listening to my heartbeat through a stethoscope, this is what you'd hear (which is made even easier by clicking the hotlink):

Ryan Adams. New York, New York
Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July
I had a firecracker waiting to blow
Breakin' like a rocket who was makin' its way
To the cities of Mexico
Lived in an apartment out on Avenue A
I had a tar-hut on the corner of 10th
Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since

And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
The world won't wait, so I better shake
That thing right out there through the door
Hell, I still love you, New York

Found myself a picture that would fit in the folds
Of my wallet and it stayed pretty good
Still amazed I didn't lose it on the roof of the place
When I was drunk and I was thinking of you
Every day the children they were singing their tune
Out on the streets and you could hear from inside
Used to take the subway up to Houston and 3rd
I would wait for you and I'd try to hide

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York

I remember Christmas in the blistering cold
In a church on the upper west side
Babe, I stood there singing, I was holding your arm
You were holding my trust like a child
Found a lot of trouble out on Avenue B
But I tried to keep the overhead low
Farewell to the city and the love of my life
At least we left before we had to go

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want 'em to
So we better shake this old thing out the door

I'll always be thinkin' of you
I'll always love you though New York
I'll always love you though New York, New York, New York

-

Luckily, I made some  g r e a t  friends there who give me an excuse, if I need one, to visit my heart at least once a year.

Putting the Hump in Humpday: "Friday wasn't my day, but Wednesday* was the best day..."

Note: I want you to know it pleased me to NO END that lyrics from one of my favorite 80's songs fit in perfectly with the "Wednesday is called humpday because it's in the middle of the week"; and "Putting the Hump in Humpday refers to someone/something that is totally humpable" theme, and I mean, it fit in SO perfectly that I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that the entire reason I came up with the Humpday post idea all those months ago was just so that one day I'd be working on the post you're about to read and I'd think, "I was born to come up with the cleverness that is this very title". That's how good it is, and if you know what line comes after the lyrics in the title, you not only appreciate my multi-layered wit, but you could also win a prize*.

--

1984 - 11 years old
The new girl in town, who moved from Ohio to Tennessee, has her first slumber party. I'm one of the 3 girls she invites and I am thrilled. We spend most of the night in a large spare room in their finished basement, dancing up a sweat in front of a mirrored wall to the new Wham! album. We're trying hard to copy the swingy little dance step that George Michael executes so perfectly in the video for Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. It's a very specific series of moves consisting of clapping, snapping and kicking with a sideways shuffle. The trick to getting it seems to be an avoidance of over-thinking. It should come as no surprise that I have a hard time getting it all synchronized. I mean, I know how to dance, but this is a new way of moving as yet undiscovered by the likes of my 7th-grade self. 

We're listening to the cassette, but because MTV played the video so much in the preceding months, by the time "Cuddle up baby, move in tight. We'll go dancing tomorrow night..." is blasting out of the speakers, we're each hugging ourselves and nailing his signature eyeroll while belting out, "it's cold out there but it's warm in bed; they can dance, we'll stay home instead!". The 4 of us followed that up with squealing and laughing and talking about how cool it would be to see Wham! perform live or to be a backup singer on tour or for George to ring the doorbell that very second and play Spin the Bottle with us. It would then be the polite thing for him to stick around long enough to teach us exactly how far into the clapping and snapping that the kicking should start. I know with his assistance I will master the dance.


See George hug himself and dreamily roll his eyes at 2:25. Trust me, it's worth it.

--

1988 - 15 years, 11 months & 3 weeks old - The Faith Tour
One week before I turned 16, I overheard my mom & one of her friends, Terri, in mid-conversation. They were talking about how Terri committed to taking her daughter somewhere and was already dreading it. I wondered what would make Terri's usual upbeat attitude so gloomy. This is how our conversation went:

Terri: "My daughter talked me into taking her to some concert on Tuesday night."

Me: "What concert?"

Terri: "I don't know, some George guy. He's singing next to a jukebox in his new video."

Me: "George MICHAEL?"

Terri: "Yeah, that's him!"

Me: "I've wanted to see him live since I was 11. Your daughter is so lucky. YOU are so lucky. I. AM. SO. JEALOUS."

Terri: "My only hope is that he sounds as good as he looks in that leather jacket and tight jeans, but I highly doubt it."

Me: "..." {jaw on floor}

One week later, on my 16th birthday, Terri surprises me with a bouquet of flowers and a t-shirt she bought for me at the concert. I don't remember what kind of flowers she gave me but I remember the t-shirt because it had a screen-printed image of George wearing the leather jacket and tight jeans from the Faith video, and it was shot from behind.

--

Saturday, October 19, 1991 - 18 years old - The Cover to Cover Tour
A friend of mine calls to offer me an extra ticket to the next night's Chicago show, but I am too busy in my dorm room making out with my boyfriend to answer the phone. She doesn't leave a message, and I don't get the extra ticket. I did, however, end up with a real nice hickey. My boyfriend pays dearly for both the hickey AND the missed phone call, but not monetarily.

--

1998 - 25 years old
The 2-disc set, Ladies & Gentlemen: The Best of George Michael is released. I buy it immediately and tell my sister, "The next time he tours, WE ARE SO THERE."

--

July 9, 2008 (TONIGHT!) - 34 years old - The 25 Live Tour
A few months back, my sister surprised me with tickets to tonight's show (thanks, Missy!) and WE ARE SO THERE. Apologies in advance** to the people sitting behind us, whoever you are, because we probably won't be sitting down much. I can't wait. I'll probably have one of those moments when my eyes get all watery because I'll be thinking, "DAMN, IT'S GOOD TO BE ALIVE!" and then I'll cheer so loud that my voice cracks.

--

If you've read this blog long enough, you know that my taste in music runs the gamut, but there are certain artists whose entire music catalogs are embedded into my life; and George Michael is one of them. Say what you will about his seemingly shallow initial pop hits and his personal scandals, but the man is talented. Some people don't realize that he's more than the lyrics, "Guilty feet have got no rhythm". I couldn't say it any better than Steve Dollar did in the last paragraph of his "Top Live Show" column in this week's Time Out Chicago:

Gossip aside: Damn, he had some hits. And, Madonna excluded, there’s no better representative of the ’80s zeitgeist. The tabloid ink has overshadowed an artist who wrote, produced, arranged and played the bulk of his pop perfection. The current—and, according to Michael, last—arena tour is all about those classic Number 1s. No doubt, an older and wiser Michael will bring more than nostalgia to the footlights.

--

By the way, I'm still the best of friends with the Ohio-girl-who-moved-to-Tennessee. Just the other day, I made a promise to her that even though she wouldn't be with me during his show, my clapping-snapping-kicking self will prove our 1988 marathon dance session in her basement was totally worth it.



*There's a contest that goes along with this month's Humpday post! If you figure out: 1) which song the post title refers to, and 2) what the next line in the song is; leave them in the comments. I will number all the correct answers and put the range into the random number generator. You will of course need to check back to see if you won or not. The winner will get something small I buy from the totally overpriced merchandise table at tonight's concert, unless there is nothing I can justify spending money on. If that's the case, I'll find something equally awesome from somewhere else to send you, and I promise to get the winner their prize within 2 weeks of being notified. It took me forever to get prizes mailed last time.

**Judging by #6 on this list, I may also owe an apology to 5of9er for what I can only preemptively assume is, in his opinion, a disappointing choice (correct me if I'm wrong!) for July's Hump of the Month. Sorry, 9er! To ease your pain, here are links to NPR podcasts celebrating the 20th anniversary of SUB POP Records: World Cafe (available now) and Sound Opinions #137 (available on Saturday). Yay for SUB POP!


Click HERE to read previous Humpday posts.

Viva la Free Download, Part 2

Last Tuesday, I posted that I got the new Nine Inch Nails single for free through their official website; which by the time I wrote about was no longer available. However, in that same post I tried to make things better between us by letting you know that Coldplay was ALSO giving away their new single for free. Although it was only offered for a short time, I know several of you were able to take advantage of the band's generosity, so yay for you us!

As of today, those of you who missed getting NIN's new single as a free download can now stop sending me angry e-mails, and here's why: NIN IS GIVING AWAY THEIR ENTIRE NEW ALBUM, THE SLIP, FOR FREE! So, take that, angry e-mailers!


Click HERE to get The Slip in the file format of your choice. That Trent Reznor sure is an accommodating fellow.

In general and as proven by my "I Just Listened To..." section in the right sidebar; my musical taste can be described as maddeningly eclectic and sometimes impossible to predict (even for those who know me best); but I DO know what I like. NIN albums have always been hit or miss for me, either I really like a track or I equate it to a specific kind of torture which involves being forced to listen while someone rips styrofoam slowly and mercilessly inside of my brain. This album is no different. I consider the styrofoam tracks to be numbers 3 ("Letting You") and 10 ("Demon Seed"); and I won't be listening to THOSE ever again if I can help it. There are 8 other tracks on this album though, and those have already been thrown into my current rotation.

For the record, my favorites on The Slip are the sonically polar opposite 1,000,000 and Lights in the Sky (with their new single, Discipline coming in at 3rd!). Thanks for the free tunes, NIN!

Viva la Free Download!

Last week I got Nine Inch Nail's latest single as a free download through the official NIN website. Today, and today only, Coldplay is offering the new single, Violet Hill, for free as well. Get it HERE, under "song". I hope more artists continue this trend.


Don't click on this image, click on the hotlink above.

Nude, pissed

Don't say you already knew this song and didn't bother to tell me about it.

I like Radiohead but have never seen them live, so if you're a super-fan don't take this wrong because it's the highest compliment I can pay: This song is the closest thing I've heard to Jeff Buckley since Jeff Buckley.

Double click either play arrow if you have trouble with the video:

Heart-stoppingly beautiful. They've been performing Nude in concert since 1997, but the recent In Rainbows is the first time they committed it to an album.


P.S. Alicia, I'm going through my Buckley stuff this weekend! For reals!

Meatloaf would do anything for money (but he won't do that). Oh wait, yes he will.

Disclaimer Caveat: Even though it was released in 1977, Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light is a classic for the ages. You cannot argue this point with me and win.

More than 30 years after it's release, Paradise by the Dashboard Light is still being played on every college campus in the country. It was certainly played at every party or bar I went to in college, and each time it came on, my friends and I were suddenly in our own musical. Everything-- beer pong, keg stands, a table full of people playing the card game affectionately known as A-hole, the guitar-playing dudes on the front steps--would stop, and we would all wholeheartedly sing along*. Even the burly, stoic guys who never sang joined in loudly; which makes sense if you go by the increased beer consumption=increased volume of sound equation. Afterwards, with no mention of the buzzed chorus we were all apparently members of, regular party activity would ramp-up again. Me? I was probably getting back to kicking ass at speed quarters.

Now that you understand the degree to which this particular song is ingrained in my college experience, you can understand why I received no less than 12 e-mails over the weekend from some of those friends in response to and concurrence with my horror at seeing this commercial:


Double-click on either 'play' arrow if you have trouble with the video

Part of my job is coming up with marketing ideas and advertising pitches, so I realize that I analyze commercials (and ok, lots of things) more than the average bear. I will start you off with these points to ponder:

1) They cast 80's pop singer Tiffany as the mom who can stock a garage refrigerator (with french bread?!) and then release a dove from her bare hands that she magically pulled out of thin air (after a prayer?!). The dove flies out of view never to be seen again, which is probably supposed to represent how quickly time passes, or something equally depressing. All I know is when I first saw that part of the commercial, I actually thought to myself, "This right here? THIS is what it sounds like when doves cry."

2) In a glorious display of a textbook mood swing, we find out that if Meatloaf gets "crazed", he'll angrily throw a fireball into a trash can. Then, he'll tell you he's going to buy you something.

3) The script calls for the teenager to grab nothing out of thin air TWICE and eat it. This thin-air thing must come from his mom's DNA. Maybe originally he was supposed to eat flying doves but they thought it would distract from the message, which ends up coming through regardless. The message is that Meatloaf needs cash and will seemingly do anything to get it.

4) Unless you're selling dynamite, having the featured product EXPLODE at the end of the commercial might not be the best thing to leave in the mind of the potential customer.

5) For me, the most disturbing part of this commercial is the song choice. If you don't already know or never thought about it before, Paradise by the Dashboard Light (like all Jim Steinman songs) is a massive and over-the-top saga of teenage sex in a car-turned-miserable marriage that goes like this (and because Tiffany's flying dove reminded me that time is fleeting, I opted to edit down the mass of information found on Wikipedia instead of typing up my own run-down):

Part one, Paradise Reminiscing their days as a high school couple, making out in the front seat of a car. "And now our bodies are oh so close and tight/It never felt so good it never felt so right..." As the song progresses it's clear that the boy has more on his mind. "Baby don't you hear my heart/You've got it drowning out the radio/I've been waiting so long for you to come along and have some fun/And I gotta let you know, no you're never gonna regret it/So open up your eyes I've got a big surprise, it'll feel all right/ I wanna make your motor run". 

Part two, Let Me Sleep On It The girl refuses to go any further unless the boy promises that he will love her, marry her, and stay faithful. The boy is conflicted and says he'll tell her in the morning, which doesn't get him very far. "I couldn't take it any longer/ Lord, I was crazed / When the feeling came upon me like a tidal wave / Started swearing to my God/ And on my mother's grave/ That I would love you till the end of time / I swore I would love you till the end of time"

Part three, Praying For The End Of Time Things snap back to the present time. They are sticking to their vows, despite being miserable about it. "So now I'm praying for the end of time / To hurry up and arrive / 'cause if I got to spend another minute with you I don't think that I can really survive/ I'll never break my promise / Or forget my vow / But God only knows what I can do right now/ I'm praying for the end of time / It's all that I can do! / Praying for the end of time / So I can end my time with you!"

Now I ask you...will the debased version of this song sell phones to parents of teenagers? The same teenagers who after having borrowed the car, may just ignore that ringing phone as they participate in their own paradise by the dashboard "Go-Phone" light?

...

*I have the exact same kind of flashbacks when I hear Hootie & the Blowfish's Hold My Hand or Only Wanna Be With You. I realize to some of you that admission might blow my credibility on the topic of 'classics', but those WERE The Hootie Years, so I have no shame about that. Besides, I defy you to find a song with a sweetly-appropriate lyrical summation of college relationships that tops, "Maybe we can't change the world but I'm gonna love you the best that, the best that I can."

Well, besides this obvious choice!