I love this song because it gets to the heart of what a pop song should be – music for dancing and having a good time. Shaking your booty is optional, but encouraged.
Yes, slow, romantic songs also make amazing pop, but this is Monday Funday Dance Party, after all. Besides, I have a thing for songs that are so insanely happy that it may actually annoy the more mellow listener.
And the video! Happy toast and drunken squirrels. Does it get better than that?
My favorite things about this song? Inez Foxx’s fabulous voice, first of all. It’s like honey, but is so powerful. And she’s got great vocal control.
The rhythm track is great, too. There’s so much going on, you just get pulled into the music. And the next thing you know, you’re dancing on top of your desk while you sing into a fake mic made out of a paper towel holder. Then you have to have a meeting with your boss, but it all turns out okay because he also loves the Foxx siblings, and he has his own fake mic/paper towel holder.
Sometimes, it all works out.
Eighty-two is a good long life, but for me he’s been taken away far too young, He’s one of my favorite songwriters. Every song is a novel, condensed into three or four minutes.
I’ve got to be honest – I prefer it when other people cover his music, for the most part. I’m not a fan of the production used on his stuff. There are a few exceptions, of course.
I was introduced to his music by the tribute album “I’m Your Fan.” It was a European release, and I only have it on cassette. You can find it out there on the internet.
Here are a couple tracks from there:
Johnny Cash was born to cover Leonard Cohen songs; here’s “Like a Bird on a Wire.” Supposedly, Kris Kristofferson told Cohen that he wants the lyrics from this on his tombstone. So do I.
Of course, everyone recognizes “Hallelujah;” here it is by Jeff Buckley, another good soul who left us too soon.
I’ll close with Cohen performing “Famous Blue Raincoat.”I’ve covered several of his songs, but I’ll never do this one; I’ll never be able to do it justice.
Thanks for the trouble you took from my eyes, L. Cohen. Requiem in pace.
Image by Shawn Carpenter . CC 2.0 License.
There. Now you’ll be singing this to yourself all day long. I know I will.
Back in the late 90’s, even jaded grunge enthusiasts had to begrudgingly (be-grungily?) admit how much fun this song is. And for the younger crowd, this was a perfect pop-crush band; three cute brothers, and one for every age range.
Twenty years on, the Hansens aren’t super-huge mega rockstars, but they’re out there playing music, hosting songwriting get-togethers, and starting up a brewery (yes, one beer is called “MmmmHop”). Here’s an article from Vulture on what they’re doing these days:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mmmbop my way to the kitchen for some more coffee.
Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress
Seems like it’s one of those Mondays when your eyes don’t want to open and all the coffee in the world won’t help.
But you know what does help? Ricky Martin …
…. And Lou Bega. Try to listen to just the bass line in this one, it really makes the song. Simple, and perfect.
… and Outkast.
You see that bass “Possum Jenkins” is playing? That’s the kind of bass I play. It’s either a Rickenbacker 4001 or 4003; I play a 4001.
One of the things that makes this song sound so cool is the phrasing. A phrase is a certain number of measures that repeat throughout the song. In pop music, a phrase is usually four measures long, and in 4/4 time.
In this song, the phrase is six bars long, and the fifth measure is only two beats. It’s just different enough to sound distinctive, but it’s still highly danceable.
So let’s dance!
You can accomplish a lot in 90 years.
George Martin just passed away, and my thoughts are with his family and loved ones.
Some of you younger kids have probably never heard of George Martin. He’s a good name to look out for if you’re browsing through older music; he produced and arranged music for Gerry and the Pacemakers, Cheap Trick, America, Jeff Beck, Ultravox, and especially the Beatles.
I would argue that Martin did a lot to help shape the musical form we call rock. He brought orchestration into the Beatles’ recordings, and vastly increased rock’s musical vocabulary, adding nuance to a language then mainly spoken by teenagers.
If Martin had not been around in the 60’s, I wonder if we would have Jeff Lynne, King Crimson or Yes?
George Martin’s name is almost always linked with the Beatles. He worked on every album they recorded. I’m not putting down the Beatles at all, by the way – they came with their fantastic songwriting and their own ideas about arranging and producing. Martin helped them to realize their ideas, and added a few of his own.
And the next time you’re having an argument about whether the drums should have 12 dedicated tracks, keep in mind the Beatles’ albums were all done on either 2-track, 4-track or 8-track tape machines.
Here’s a wonderful tribute, courtesy of Paul McCartney.
And here’s one of my favorite Beatles tracks:
Once upon a time, there was a 21 and under club called “Phil’s Bongo Room.” It doesn’t matter where it was; it’s been gone for a long time anyway. It was lost to an unfortunate infestation of luxury condos.
Anyhoo, it was fun and they had live bands and a floor that lit up like the one in “Saturday Night Fever.” I went there one night with two girlfriends; we were all about 13 or 14. They had a cover band that played “Jungle Love.”
Of course it was nowhere near what Morris & Co could do, but the band played really well and were a lot of fun to dance to.
The next song that the cover band played was Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Gimme Three Steps.” Also a lot of fun, but not necessarily how I would follow up Morris Day & the Time. How about a little Sheila E instead?
Photo Credit: “Dancing With the Storms” by JD Hancock, via Creative Commons
For many of us, the Alley Cat was an inescapable part of gym class in public school.
In case you’re not familiar with it, here’s a demonstration by a fantastic 94 year-old. She’s got me beat when it comes to dance skills.
Or you could do this:
This just popped into my head, displacing “Thank You For Being a Friend,” the theme song to “The Golden Girls.” Thank you, Tony. Thank you, Dawn.
There was a point in the early to mid-seventies where pop songs became so hook-laden that they were almost annoyingly catchy. You hear it for the first time in 10 years and think “That’s a great song! I should listen to it more.” But then after two or three listens, you just can’t take it any more. It’s like skipping the cake and just eating the icing.
Three Dog Night can be like that. Some of their songs are great, and some are just not great songs. And no matter how amazing the hook is, it’s that musical skeleton underneath that makes it work.
Now this is a good song, with a great hook:
I just love that middle part, where they’re all singing in harmony.
I recently bought Three Dog Night’s greatest hits album. I’d had the chorus to “Shangri-La” going through my head for a couple of days before I figured out who the band was*, and they were all over my iPod for about two months. Then I just had to delete them. Too much icing.
But that’s the challenge of writing great pop songs – you have to take risks. And every once in a while you’ll fly too close to the sun, and your magic wings will dissolve into an icky pool of melted sugar.
On a totally different note**, here’s a great non-pop, non-sugary piece by Art Blakey & the Afro Drum Ensemble: