I love the nightlife, I want to boogie
Jun. 7th, 2002 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdonarkI came home exhausted from a work day in which I got many but not all things on my to do list done.
I must work more tomorrow.
A really fascinating letter had arrived fromvoodoukween(many thanks), which really got me thinking. I'll look forward to writing a detailed reply. This will help me meet my new goal of actually writing paper letters again, instead of just the long, poorly edited e mails which are my forte. I love the spontaneity of e mail, but I also love that feeling of opening mail. Because I "think" in prolix paragraphs and tend to write what I am thinking,
I do worry about bombarding folks with "thoughts".
I must work on concision and on hitting "send" less often.
Paper letters make one pay the price of fitting an envelope.
I fell asleep after I read the letter, and woke after
unmemorable dreams at 9:30 p.m. to unmemorable TV. I drifted away again, until my wife called on the telephone to regale me with stories of hanging out with a friend's kids in Nebraska. Now it's 11:30 p.m., and I must go to some place that serves breakfast food as comfort food near midnight. Although I'm of an age in which I am well familiar with various forms of the disco palace, it seems as though the nightlife I love has over the years always been more tilted to scrambled eggs than the hustle. I do remember, though, a time when one got one's hair "feathered" and was slightly reluctant when one had to decline a full blown perm.
My goodness--I remember driving home from my college in the Ozarks when I was 20, desperately seeking some relief across the radio dial from the pounding disco, the radioevangelists, and the most saccharine country music Nashville had yet produced. Any port in a storm--even Dan Hill's "Sometimes when We Touch" (when, in appropriate rhyme, "the honesty's too much"),the repertoire of schmaltz troubadour Leo Sayer and that odd woman's song "Torn Between Two Lovers" (which, in hindsight might have benefitted from a Nashville backbeat) seemed a sort of relief from the demoniac confections of the brothers Gibb. "J-j-jive talking", indeed. When the Bee Gees first did "Jive Talking" on the Midnight Special, I remember thinking that they had rescued themselves from impending obscurity (I sure could analyze good at 14). By the time I was midway through college, they seemed to have single-handedly ended everything I loved about the radio. My guilty secret: I still love "Boogie Ooogie Oogie". Of course, the ONE SURE WAY to put me in a good mood is to play Earth Wind and Fire's "September", but I don't think that's something to feel guilty about.
My college roommate with the permed hair assured me that disco was not a trend but a social revolution, a reclamation of America from the rock fans and liberals he considered to have made life less "fun". I politely disagreed and played a fair bit of "Before and After Science" and "Unknown Pleasures".
I remember as a very young teen, the only "real" rock station was an AM station in Chicago which must have broadcast enough watts to kill Godzilla. They had a show which came on at midnight Friday night. The radio faded in and out, new artists, familiar artists, and DJs who, like their young adolescent fans in the early 70s, worried overmuch about whether things "rocked". Led Zep, "Katmandu" era Seger, a host of Brit art and prog bands, Humble Pie, Head East, early, non-silly REO Speedwagon, you name it. When I could hear it, through the static, I was cool. When I couldn't hear it, I was a thousand miles away from where the music was happening. Now was it Bleeker Street or Beaker Street or could I just not hear the name of the program?
I try to experience music the way we did then.
We thought nothing of playing Frank Zappa's "Freak Out" one moment, and America's "Homecoming" album the next. "Ventura Highway" and Suzy Creamcheese are not that far apart, anyway. We went to young teen dances where we slow danced with girls in midriffs and halters to Three Dog Night's "Pieces of April", and then watched the most acrobatic among us try to do the Frog to Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly". Steely Dan's "Reeling in the Years" would alternate with Alice Cooper's "Killer" and "Love it to Death" albums.
We could dance to anything. Even shy, hesitant, wallflowery kids such as myself danced without thinking twice about it, dateless, formless, yet unafraid.
In my little town dancing was the devil's work. School dances could not be held, because that was the way of sin, something that the local parents could not have stood. We had no Kevin Bacon to make us footloose. We went to peoples' houses in the country and used living rooms the size of walnuts as dance floors.
When I was in college, my little town had its first
school dance. A gunfight broke out, and someone was injured in the crossfire. Satan, you know.
I'll never forget walking on a gravel road (one of those bottle spinning type games) with a teenage girl I had grown up with explaining to her, in my most fervent 14 year old tones, how I was working so hard to overcome my shyness. She asked me when I planned to start--I thought I had already succeeded. I remember bringing Sparks' Kimono My House to another party, and watching the faces on the other kids as I realized that retro-Kinks music hall Britpop done in falsetto with a strong Gilbert and Sullivan lyrical influence was not going to top the charts in Gurdon, Arkansas.
When I see those kids from Gurdon at high school reunions (I have 2 high schools, but only reunion with 1), they always say to me "you haven't changed a bit". I feel I've changed so much from that awkward, over-pseudo-intellectualized, desperately shy boy. But they are probably right.
At my 20th reunion, we all danced to dance music,
but the DJ didn't bring "Pieces of April" or "Reeling in the Years", but that's all right.
I must work more tomorrow.
A really fascinating letter had arrived from
voodoukween(many thanks), which really got me thinking. I'll look forward to writing a detailed reply. This will help me meet my new goal of actually writing paper letters again, instead of just the long, poorly edited e mails which are my forte. I love the spontaneity of e mail, but I also love that feeling of opening mail. Because I "think" in prolix paragraphs and tend to write what I am thinking,I do worry about bombarding folks with "thoughts".
I must work on concision and on hitting "send" less often.
Paper letters make one pay the price of fitting an envelope.
I fell asleep after I read the letter, and woke after
unmemorable dreams at 9:30 p.m. to unmemorable TV. I drifted away again, until my wife called on the telephone to regale me with stories of hanging out with a friend's kids in Nebraska. Now it's 11:30 p.m., and I must go to some place that serves breakfast food as comfort food near midnight. Although I'm of an age in which I am well familiar with various forms of the disco palace, it seems as though the nightlife I love has over the years always been more tilted to scrambled eggs than the hustle. I do remember, though, a time when one got one's hair "feathered" and was slightly reluctant when one had to decline a full blown perm.
My goodness--I remember driving home from my college in the Ozarks when I was 20, desperately seeking some relief across the radio dial from the pounding disco, the radioevangelists, and the most saccharine country music Nashville had yet produced. Any port in a storm--even Dan Hill's "Sometimes when We Touch" (when, in appropriate rhyme, "the honesty's too much"),the repertoire of schmaltz troubadour Leo Sayer and that odd woman's song "Torn Between Two Lovers" (which, in hindsight might have benefitted from a Nashville backbeat) seemed a sort of relief from the demoniac confections of the brothers Gibb. "J-j-jive talking", indeed. When the Bee Gees first did "Jive Talking" on the Midnight Special, I remember thinking that they had rescued themselves from impending obscurity (I sure could analyze good at 14). By the time I was midway through college, they seemed to have single-handedly ended everything I loved about the radio. My guilty secret: I still love "Boogie Ooogie Oogie". Of course, the ONE SURE WAY to put me in a good mood is to play Earth Wind and Fire's "September", but I don't think that's something to feel guilty about.
My college roommate with the permed hair assured me that disco was not a trend but a social revolution, a reclamation of America from the rock fans and liberals he considered to have made life less "fun". I politely disagreed and played a fair bit of "Before and After Science" and "Unknown Pleasures".
I remember as a very young teen, the only "real" rock station was an AM station in Chicago which must have broadcast enough watts to kill Godzilla. They had a show which came on at midnight Friday night. The radio faded in and out, new artists, familiar artists, and DJs who, like their young adolescent fans in the early 70s, worried overmuch about whether things "rocked". Led Zep, "Katmandu" era Seger, a host of Brit art and prog bands, Humble Pie, Head East, early, non-silly REO Speedwagon, you name it. When I could hear it, through the static, I was cool. When I couldn't hear it, I was a thousand miles away from where the music was happening. Now was it Bleeker Street or Beaker Street or could I just not hear the name of the program?
I try to experience music the way we did then.
We thought nothing of playing Frank Zappa's "Freak Out" one moment, and America's "Homecoming" album the next. "Ventura Highway" and Suzy Creamcheese are not that far apart, anyway. We went to young teen dances where we slow danced with girls in midriffs and halters to Three Dog Night's "Pieces of April", and then watched the most acrobatic among us try to do the Frog to Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly". Steely Dan's "Reeling in the Years" would alternate with Alice Cooper's "Killer" and "Love it to Death" albums.
We could dance to anything. Even shy, hesitant, wallflowery kids such as myself danced without thinking twice about it, dateless, formless, yet unafraid.
In my little town dancing was the devil's work. School dances could not be held, because that was the way of sin, something that the local parents could not have stood. We had no Kevin Bacon to make us footloose. We went to peoples' houses in the country and used living rooms the size of walnuts as dance floors.
When I was in college, my little town had its first
school dance. A gunfight broke out, and someone was injured in the crossfire. Satan, you know.
I'll never forget walking on a gravel road (one of those bottle spinning type games) with a teenage girl I had grown up with explaining to her, in my most fervent 14 year old tones, how I was working so hard to overcome my shyness. She asked me when I planned to start--I thought I had already succeeded. I remember bringing Sparks' Kimono My House to another party, and watching the faces on the other kids as I realized that retro-Kinks music hall Britpop done in falsetto with a strong Gilbert and Sullivan lyrical influence was not going to top the charts in Gurdon, Arkansas.
When I see those kids from Gurdon at high school reunions (I have 2 high schools, but only reunion with 1), they always say to me "you haven't changed a bit". I feel I've changed so much from that awkward, over-pseudo-intellectualized, desperately shy boy. But they are probably right.
At my 20th reunion, we all danced to dance music,
but the DJ didn't bring "Pieces of April" or "Reeling in the Years", but that's all right.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
i knew that someone who listens to alot of bill nelson had to be on the right track!!!;)
Date: 2002-06-07 10:15 pm (UTC)"suzy...suzy cream cheese...what's got inta ya?!!!" hehe!!!;)
and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
"Before and After Science".
I may put a post up on this later, but I'll ask you these crucial questions--
What was your first 45?
What were your first 3 LPs or tapes?
My first 45 was "One Bad Apple" by the Osmonds
My first 3 LPs were Grand Funk Railroad, Closer to Home, Santana III and Chicago II.
God, I loved "I'm Your Captain".
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
Date: 2002-06-08 02:41 am (UTC)first 45- 'd.o.a.' bloodrock, remember that one?!! it just freaked me out so much i couldn't get over it!!! i saw the cd today (bloodrock II) and almost bought it, ha!!!;)
first records- my grandparents belonged to the capital records "record club", so i would get to pick out a record on every order...and most of them were beatles records. my favorites were 'rubber soul' 'abbey road' and 'sgt. pepper' hey, i was only 8 years old!!!;) i used to write the beatles letters. my grandmother saved one, and i still have it. it had a school picture of me in it...it's hilarious!!! i also had alot of other stuff like the hawaii 5-0 soundtrack, a tiny tim record, free, and several other things. i still have all of those records, of course. i also remember the first time that i went to an actual record store. i went to camelot in memorial city mall (houston) and bought jimi hendrix-'are you experienced'. i was so happy and loved that record so much...still do!!!;) i know on my next record store visit i got jimi hendrix-'axis: bold as love' but that's all i can remember...it was all over the place after that!!!;)
speaking of the osmonds, i actually saw them live in 70, 71 possibly?!! my little sister was a big "osmond brothers" fan and i had to go, not by choice, but in hindsight it was very amusing. the only thing that i remember distinctly was them doing "kung fu fighting" i think is what the song was called. as you could imagine, they all wore karate outfits and had a little "kung fu" choreography thing to go along with the song...they were probably lip-synching the whole time, ha!!!;)
oh...yeah, eno, "julie with...", great song!!! i am such an eno freak!!! the ambient stuff especially, everything!!! do you have 'here come the warm jets'?!! if you do, listen to "baby's on fire" for me!!!;)
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
Date: 2002-06-08 03:42 am (UTC)"Baby's On Fire" and "Miss Shapiro" are both sung by Eno in full voice, as well as a wild "You Really Got Me". In fact, I'll tell the story about my college roommate (the one who was there for a few weeks and then pledged into a frat) who heard Eno intoning the refrain to "You Really Got Me" and said "HEY, that's a VAN HALEN song!".
I never saw the Osmonds. I'm not as hip as you.
But I did see Oblivion Neutron Bomb, and Billy Joel opened her show.
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
Date: 2002-06-08 01:51 pm (UTC)i really think you should get 'here come the warm jets'. since you are an eno fan, you just have to have that one...have to!!! the whole record is just GREAT!!! the thing about 'baby's on fire' on that record is robert fripp's guitar solo. it is just such a great record, if i could, i would go buy it for you and hand deliver it to you!!! it is that good!!!
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
B and A sci is a great album, but I think baby's on fire is his quinessential rocker.
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
Date: 2002-06-08 03:47 am (UTC)That Bloodrock album with the bullet going through the weird guy's forehead, too.....spacy.....
Re: and when "monster magnet" had finished, we were apt to play "fragile"
Date: 2002-06-08 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-06-07 10:17 pm (UTC)blushing
Sylvia goes two piece!
Date: 2002-06-07 10:28 pm (UTC)In my little town dancing was the devil's work. School dances could not be held, because that was the way of sin, something that the local parents could not have stood. We had no Kevin Bacon to make us footloose. We went to peoples' houses in the country and used living rooms the size of walnuts as dance floors.
When I was in college, my little town had its first
school dance. A gunfight broke out, and someone was injured in the crossfire. Satan, you know.
Wow. That's rediculous. I used to clog (percussive dance... NOT SWEDISH). In the early nineties there was the "Clogging Hoedown" at the Georgia Agrirama...which is located in our town. One time these church people... a pastor a churchmember and something else... came and stood beside the stage praying for all the dancers and bowing and stuff like that because they thought they were going to hell... i can't remember if they called the police or not. but it was awful.
i used to love "school's out" when i was little... i watched it on rock music with the muppets.
so yeah... rock on with alice.
Re: Sylvia goes two piece!
not quite so constricted, some ministers still organize protests against the "devil's dancing".
They never read the part about David dancing in his ephod. An "ephod", by the way, sounds like it should be something a lot more interesting than it is. I love your "Clogging Hoedown" story. I always feel you must embrace this part of your past, as it is fading, and is the last remnant of a south that is turning into processed cheese.