|
|
|
|
|
|
Why was U96's "homage" (such a kinder word than "blatant ripoff") of Visage's " Fade to Grey" entitled " I Wanna Be a Kennedy"? The overlap between "grey" and "Kennedy" is, of course, Grey Gardens, the cult documentary about fading Kennedy in-laws.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
For those of us who add songs to beloved movie soundtracks as they grace our airwaves, the greater Meet the Hollowheads soundtrack should include Chaka Khan’s “ My Love is Alive.” You’re welcome! Speaking of Chaka Khan, as you revisit her music video for “ I Feel For You” (a blessed music video, obviously created by angels), note how the (superb!) dancers all get to connect with the camera. This is incredibly rare and a beautiful thing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Our Superior Wizard of Oz Version of a Rolling Stones Song
What's with The Rolling Stones song " Play with Fire"? People outside of London are supposed to relate to what "Stepney" and "Knightsbridge" are? No — those are terrible lyrics. A highly superior context for the song is The Wizard of Oz, which we can prove by offering side-by-side lyrics. You're welcome. (Note: we didn't bother trying to rhyme our wizardly remake of the song. Why give a damn trying to replicate the style of such a poor original? Our version shines brilliantly without any forced rhymes.)
| The Wizard of Oz Version (Superior) |
Original Rolling Stones Version (Stupid) |
| Well, you've got your rubies and you've got your little dog |
Well, you've got your diamonds and you've got your pretty clothes |
| And tornadoes drop you off |
And the chauffeur drives your car |
| You let everybody know |
You let everybody know |
| But don't play with me, or you're flying with monkeys |
But don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
| Your auntie she's a farmer, raising goats near witchy-ta |
Your mother she's an heiress, owns a block in Saint John's Wood |
| And your uncle’s under her spell |
And your father'd be there with her |
| Enchanted in toto |
If he only could |
| But don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys |
But don't play with me, because you're playing with fire |
| Your wizard asks for broomsticks; his promises hot air |
Your old man took her diamond's and tiaras by the score |
| Now you click your heels on brick roads |
Now she gets her kicks in Stepney |
| Not in Kansas anymore |
Not in Knightsbridge anymore |
| So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys |
So don't play with me, because you're playing with fire |
| Now you walk on rubies and your future’s looking emerald |
Now you've got some diamonds and you will have some others |
But you'd better watch your step, girl
|
But you'd better watch your step, girl |
Or there’ll be no place like home
|
Or start living with your mother |
So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys
|
So don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys
|
So don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
One Weird Trick For Telling If the Second Stanza Got Moved Up
It almost seems impossible, doesn’t it? To know if a song’s second stanza got moved to first place? (Even if there’s linear storytelling in the song, it’s still hard to tell, because the second stanza could swap with the first as a foreshadowing teaser.) But there is one weird trick for knowing with certainty. And I’m now prepared to reveal all (for one can keep important secrets like this only so long before the yearning to share simply becomes unsupportable). The first stanza of a song surely tends to contain the first lines written by the songwriter — the germ, the heart of the song — and that first stanza tends to be the best written, strongest section. The second stanza tends to be filler, compelled by the laws of structure to mirror the first stanza while being slightly different. The second stanza is extraneous at worst, artificial surely, and oh-so-rarely brilliant. The issue is that the listener, not necessarily quite hooked into the song yet, tends to gloss over the first stanza. Horror — for one’s best stanza to go unappreciated! (And damn those catchy choruses for being the only thing most anyone recalls at a moment’s notice! Those gaudy choruses with their feather boas and their flashy sequins. All glitz and glamor, but where’s the substance?) The only hope is to swap stanzas 1 and 2. (If there’s a third stanza, the laws of ultimogeniture dictate that it stay behind and take care of the parents.) Let the weaker second stanza get glossed over, and as listeners find themselves hooked, hit them with the strong first stanza and really blow them away. Unnecessary proof of practice: Ratt’s “Round and Round.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
So there might be a song in this somewhere. Only we, the listeners, are outside of the club, so the sound is all filtered and echoed and mostly vibration … AND the club is probably what we call the “Welcome to Canada” bar from David Lynch's Fire Walk With Me, where Laura takes Donna to show her what the nights are like … AND it happens to be located on a spacecraft … AND the spacecraft is nearing the event horizon of a black hole. So … it’s not exactly music, but not exactly noise … more the experience of waiting in line to enter the “Welcome to Canada” club while simultaneously on a spaceship entering a black hole. Had the band consulted with us, we’d have advised they employ the two secrets of the Escher-Staircase eternally rising chords. But maybe they wanted some ups and downs to the sound of the event horizon. (It’s been long enough since we last approached a black hole that we can’t recall if it’s an eternally-upward or up-and-down vibe.) Of course, what first caught our attention and led us to click on this track was its title from the first line of Gibson’s Neuromancer:
|
Page 2 of 13
> Older Entries...
Original Content Copyright © 2025 by Craig Conley. All rights reserved.
|
