Kids are awesome for a number of reasons, but one of the things they are great at doing is recognizing is popular music. I noticed a trend very early in my parenthood: the more popular the song, the more my kids liked it. Take Michael Jackson's Thriller, for example. The album is the work of a genius start to finish, but despite my attempts to get them to appreciate the whole album, Quinn and Callie really only want to hear "Beat It" and "Thriller." They have no knowledge that these were 2 of the album's biggest selling singles, but they know. It's like some innate gift.
Aerosmith's song "Walk This Way" is one of those songs. It's incredibly popular and it's no mystery that kids love it. Go down the line....Walk This Way has it all:
1. killer beat - check
2. killer guitar riff - check
3. easy to sing chorus - check
4. verse rap that makes you want to learn the lyrics - check
5. steven tyler - check
This is a special recommendation because it's really the gift that keeps on giving. After all, who can forget Aerosmith's monumental collaboration with Run DMC? The video featured Aerosmith in one rehearsal room and Run DMC in the adjacent one. The two groups are annoyed with each other's music until finally Steven puts his mic stand through the wall and they unite. Who knew Walk This Way had the potential to be a symbolic message about breaking down the walls of racial stereotyping?
I love both versions equally, but the Run DMC collab holds a special place in my heart. At the time it was released I was wearing my black windbreaker outfit religiously and breakdancing on a broken down refrigerator box for money. While listening to Walk This Way I would build elaborate plots similar to The Karate Kid in my mind. Me, overcoming the bully in the final round of the Breakdancing Championship, crushing him with a lightning quick armspin-into-backspin combo (never completed before!!!). Crowd cheers. I am raised on the shoulders of Grandmaster Flash. Run DMC and Aerosmith perform at the ticker tape parade. Victory!
Neal
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Introducing rock to your kids #5 - Rick Springfield "Jessie's Girl"
It's tough to classify "Jessie's Girl" as a rock song, just as it's tough to call last week's entry, Journey's "Separate Ways," rock. Both of these songs walk the fine line of pop and rock, but I'm choosing "Jessie's Girl" for one reason - it's got the best lyrical rhyme I have ever heard:
I think "Jessie's Girl" could be the only song in the history of recorded music to use the word "moot." I laugh whenever I hear it because I envision a frustrated Rick Springfield, desperate to find a word to rhyme with "cute." My imagined story goes something like this.
It's 1981. Rick Springfield's label is demanding a hit song, so he and his co-writer are working feverishly. Time is running out. This is make it or break it for Rick's career. No hit and he's back to doing soaps for a living.
But things are looking up. Rick and co-writer are developing "Jessie's Girl" and it feels good. Real good. Rick is frustrated because he's having a tough time writing lyrics, so co-writer says, "Easy does it, Rick. Just let it flow, man. BE JESSIE." They start playing and Rick delivers the line "you know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute." Both of them love it and co-writer says, "Good job, Ricky. Gimme one more just like that one." But Rick's creative streak stops there. He simply can't come up with a follow-up lyric.
Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. The label calls and says, "Rick, either you finish 'Jessie's Girl' today or we're pulling the plug. I want the finished song on my desk in 3 hours." Rick's blood is racing. He scrambles for a rhyming dictionary, looking for words that rhyme with "cute." Flute, loot, astute - nothing feels right. Time is running out. Rick is desperate. He writes the alphabet on a sheet of paper and begins going down the line looking for that magic rhyme. Finally he sees it: MOOT. The angels sing. Rick scrambles for the producer and says, "I got it. I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot." Producer says, "uh, OK Rick." And the rest is history.
No one but Rick really knows if things played out this way, but that's the beauty of music. Each song tells a story in different ways. For me it was a single word - moot - which painted a beautiful picture of 1981.
neal
"You know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute
I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot"
I think "Jessie's Girl" could be the only song in the history of recorded music to use the word "moot." I laugh whenever I hear it because I envision a frustrated Rick Springfield, desperate to find a word to rhyme with "cute." My imagined story goes something like this.
It's 1981. Rick Springfield's label is demanding a hit song, so he and his co-writer are working feverishly. Time is running out. This is make it or break it for Rick's career. No hit and he's back to doing soaps for a living.
But things are looking up. Rick and co-writer are developing "Jessie's Girl" and it feels good. Real good. Rick is frustrated because he's having a tough time writing lyrics, so co-writer says, "Easy does it, Rick. Just let it flow, man. BE JESSIE." They start playing and Rick delivers the line "you know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute." Both of them love it and co-writer says, "Good job, Ricky. Gimme one more just like that one." But Rick's creative streak stops there. He simply can't come up with a follow-up lyric.
Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. The label calls and says, "Rick, either you finish 'Jessie's Girl' today or we're pulling the plug. I want the finished song on my desk in 3 hours." Rick's blood is racing. He scrambles for a rhyming dictionary, looking for words that rhyme with "cute." Flute, loot, astute - nothing feels right. Time is running out. Rick is desperate. He writes the alphabet on a sheet of paper and begins going down the line looking for that magic rhyme. Finally he sees it: MOOT. The angels sing. Rick scrambles for the producer and says, "I got it. I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot." Producer says, "uh, OK Rick." And the rest is history.
No one but Rick really knows if things played out this way, but that's the beauty of music. Each song tells a story in different ways. For me it was a single word - moot - which painted a beautiful picture of 1981.
neal
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Introducing rock to your kids #4 - Journey "Separate Ways"
Hypothetical scenario: a robot points a laser gun at me and says:
"I come from the future. You have 1 minute to predict what your son's profession will be. Answer correctly and you live. Answer incorrectly and....(uncomfortably long pause)......YOU DIE!"
In a typical timed life or death situation, one might feel any number of emotions: fear, anxiety, distress. But I am not nervous. In fact, I am perfectly calm. Not a single bead of sweat forms on my skin, not a single lump moves through my throat. I answer calmly and confidently: "My son will be a dramatic actor."
I live.
I am so confident of this response because I witness it every day. There are times when I think my sole purpose for living is to serve as supporting actor for Quinn's long and repetitive dramas. A few examples:
"Dad, I am Mufasa and you are Simba. I'm going to fall off Pride Rock and die. You have to hold me and start crying."
"Dad, you are a zombie who is sad because you don't have any friends. I will become your friend and you will love me."
"Dad, you have had a bad accident and you are bleeding severely. I am a paramedic and I will bandage you up and save you."
I am no actor but my skills more than suffice for his mini dramas. The traditional rules of subtlety in acting need not apply here. The more drawn out the sob, the more pained the howl, the better. And it's not enough to put forth one great performance. These demands come by the dozen, with little or no notice.
This sets us up perfectly for this week's pick: Journey's dramatic and intimidating "Separate Ways." No mystery here, it's one of Quinn's all-time favorites. I could play it for him 100 times in a row and he'd say, "Dad, one more time."
What could be more dramatic than 5 guys air-playing their instruments in an abandoned warehouse? To add to the suspense, an emotional/irritated/confused/passionate Steve Perry is shown singing the song from every possible angle.
Then there is the woman in white high heels. Where is she going and why is she walking so quickly? Is she real or does she only exist in Steve's mind? How can she walk so quickly in those high heels?
While "Separate Ways" has been played about 1,000 times too many in my apartment, I never seem to tire of the video. Each time I watch it, I find something new to love about it. The synchronized head turns, a bare armed and fist clenched Steve Perry giving it his all, the slow-motion sequence, the keyboardist clawing at an invisible keyboard like a panther (then later playing a keyboard which hangs on a wall????)
If your child has a flair for the dramatic, I can't recommend "Separate Ways" enough. Grab your air instrument and play along with this 80s classic:
"I come from the future. You have 1 minute to predict what your son's profession will be. Answer correctly and you live. Answer incorrectly and....(uncomfortably long pause)......YOU DIE!"
In a typical timed life or death situation, one might feel any number of emotions: fear, anxiety, distress. But I am not nervous. In fact, I am perfectly calm. Not a single bead of sweat forms on my skin, not a single lump moves through my throat. I answer calmly and confidently: "My son will be a dramatic actor."
I live.
I am so confident of this response because I witness it every day. There are times when I think my sole purpose for living is to serve as supporting actor for Quinn's long and repetitive dramas. A few examples:
"Dad, I am Mufasa and you are Simba. I'm going to fall off Pride Rock and die. You have to hold me and start crying."
"Dad, you are a zombie who is sad because you don't have any friends. I will become your friend and you will love me."
"Dad, you have had a bad accident and you are bleeding severely. I am a paramedic and I will bandage you up and save you."
I am no actor but my skills more than suffice for his mini dramas. The traditional rules of subtlety in acting need not apply here. The more drawn out the sob, the more pained the howl, the better. And it's not enough to put forth one great performance. These demands come by the dozen, with little or no notice.
This sets us up perfectly for this week's pick: Journey's dramatic and intimidating "Separate Ways." No mystery here, it's one of Quinn's all-time favorites. I could play it for him 100 times in a row and he'd say, "Dad, one more time."
What could be more dramatic than 5 guys air-playing their instruments in an abandoned warehouse? To add to the suspense, an emotional/irritated/confused/passionate Steve Perry is shown singing the song from every possible angle.
Then there is the woman in white high heels. Where is she going and why is she walking so quickly? Is she real or does she only exist in Steve's mind? How can she walk so quickly in those high heels?
While "Separate Ways" has been played about 1,000 times too many in my apartment, I never seem to tire of the video. Each time I watch it, I find something new to love about it. The synchronized head turns, a bare armed and fist clenched Steve Perry giving it his all, the slow-motion sequence, the keyboardist clawing at an invisible keyboard like a panther (then later playing a keyboard which hangs on a wall????)
If your child has a flair for the dramatic, I can't recommend "Separate Ways" enough. Grab your air instrument and play along with this 80s classic:
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Introducing rock to your kids: #3 - Guns n' Roses "Paradise City"
Queens, NY - It's 1988. I am 13 years old and absolutely giddy. I've spent an eternity waiting for cable service to come to neighborhood and finally it arrives. No more bad reception. No more PBS. I go straight to the crown jewel - MTV - and my world changes forever.
Each night I sit transfixed, watching Adam Curry deliver the top 20 countdown, either oblivious or indifferent to the fact that the charts rarely change from day to day. Hair bands, one after another, fill my head with images of rockers in bare chested unitards, explosive stage shows, and mid air splits. Cinderella, Jovi, Skid Row, Ratt, Poison, Gwar, Warrant, Great White, Whitesnake, White Lion, Mr. Big. The list goes on forever.
But on this particular day I have the stage set. Two pillows meticulously placed before me. They are the drums. In each hand, lincoln logs. The drumsticks. I am waiting for Guns n' Roses "Paradise City." Waiting for the chance to take the stage and play along with Steven Adler.
Guns n' Roses was different. Even as a 13 year old, I could tell that Warrant was cheesy. Granted, I loved "Cherry Pie" just as much as the next kid, but I knew it was pretty generic rock. By the time “Paradise City” was released, Gn’R already had two videos in the can and both sent a totally different message. There was their intro to mainstream, “Welcome to the Jungle,” a song which scared and excited me. Who is this androgynous lead singer with the tightest leather pants I have ever seen? Who is this mysterious guitarist with no face and a top hat? Axl toned his look down for “Sweet Child O’ Mine” and revealed a tender side, yet the band still rocked. It was almost too good to be true.
So here we have this week’s recommendation: “Paradise City,” an excellent song to ring in the start of summer. It’s got everything. The pretty guitar intro, the arena rock drum beat, the catchy chorus, that summer good feeling sound, and of course the whistle at 1:19 leading into a pretty heavy verse. In the video, Axl spits out his lyrics in white leather jacket and matching pants. Does it get any better than that?
This is a great song to jump and go crazy to. And it’s a fairly long song so it requires some stamina. Just about the time when you’ve run out of steam, Axl hits a seemingly endless note at 4:35, which lasts until about 4:48. This is a crucial time for rest, because the song is about to go from 10 to 11. By now the band is drenched in sweat, the crowd is completely out of their minds, and your child should be going absolutely crazy. During this part of the song, Quinn and Callie are typically writhing around on the floor like radioactive worms. It’s a beautiful display of dance, movement without a trace of rhyme or reason.
Oh won’t you please take me home?
-Neal
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