nobody asked…

Circa 1975. Neil Young called Tonight’s the Night, his tribute to two close friends taken down by drug overdoses, the closest he ever came to art. The dark tone, punctuated by the deep bluesy riffs, bind it to and separate it from his mainstream work of the era. Sit back, close your eyes, and sink into the raw emotion…

Oh, my god… Aretha and Bonnie together. It jes don’ get no better n’ that…

Subtitle: More Riddles for Eric…

Maybe it was a short journey from the git-go. Maybe it was simply a fulfillment of genetic destiny. Maybe it was a last-gasp, blood-curdling scream from deep within the tortured soul of a man who gave up smoking and was forced to eat couscous a couple of times. More likely, I’m just wacko. Whatever the trigger, I am deliriously happy to report that after years of trying, edging ever so close on occasion, I have now achieved a state of complete, blissful insanity. Yabba. Dabba. Doo…

Digging back into the stacks and listening to oldies/goodies that were favorites when they were fresh, there is always the danger of one of them becoming the earworm du jour. For those not familiar with that disgusting term, click on the word to see my earlier explanation.

In preparation for the previous post featuring America’s Horse With No Name, I listened to many renditions and covers, as well as several different versions of some other favorites of mine by America. Those include You Can Do Magic, Ventura Highway, and Tin Man.

The problem? Youse wants to know what the problem is? Well, Mr. and Ms. Wiseguy, I’ll tell you what the problem is. The problem is that I now have not one, not two or three, but FOUR OF THESE MOTHERBUMPING EARWORMS ALL PLAYING AT THE SAME FREAKING TIME. And I can’t seem to shut them off. Or even whittle it down to one. Or change the channel to something different. Old Rugged Cross. Tennessee Waltz. Doesn’t matter. Anything. But after a while, the strange mix becomes mine, all mine. It becomes me. I become one with the stream and doo doo doo dit all the way into nirvana and back. Flowing effortlessly over purple fields of candy. Following the sweet birds of youth, chanting and singing the words of the simpleton out by the pond. Smiling into the sunshine with eyes wide shut.

No, Oz never did give nothing to the tin man because he rode a horse with no name down the Ventura highway watching alligator lizards in the air while she repeats over and over you can do magic at the tropic of sir galahad…

La la la la… la la la la.. la la la la… laaaa…

America was popular back when I was. This clip from 1973, is of the lads, Dewey, Dan, and Gerry, early in their career, performing their chart-busting Horse With No Name. Putting together this post, I found myself doing what I did when this cut came out on LP — listening to it over and over, trying to decipher the mesmerizing words and sounds. It is at once intriguing, depressing, uplifting, confusing, non-sensical, and contains the answers to the mysteries of life. Even if the writing and performing of the song were not chemically assisted, listening to it you begin to realize the song becomes the drug…

Sometimes it takes a simple tune to capture our attention. One like The Rainbow Connection, the opening song from the The Muppet Movie (1979). Written by Kenny Ascher and Paul Williams, Rainbow has been covered many times by a wide range of artists, from Willy Nelson to Debbie Harry to Justin Timberlake, but the one that warms me most is the original sung by Kermit the Frog, which of course was Jim Henson (R.I.P.). Kermit’s rendition may be the only song I am drawn to that I would refer to as sweet. The music and words speak to me, calling my name. Lyrics are below the YouTube window, so sing along like no one is listening. Enjoy!

The Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it
I know they’re wrong, wait and see.
Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it,
And look what it’s done so far.
What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell,
We know that it’s probably magic…

… Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices?
I’ve heard them calling my name.
… Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same
I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it
It’s something that I’m s’posed to be…
Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Laa, da daa dee da daa daa,
La laa la la laa dee daa doo…

From the first time I heard Bill Withers performing his Ain’t No Sunshine in the early ’70s, it has never been far from the center of my musical radar, often providing an earworm that lasts for hours or days, contributing to my mounting insanity. Imagine my delight on finding this clip from 1972.

Some sidelights to note:

• Check the drummer’s expression. Priceless… He looks like he’s on camera for the first time and just can’t contain himself. Or on an overdose of Human Smile Hormone.

• According to Wikipedia, Withers originally intended to write more lyrics for the part of the song where he repeats the phrase “I know” twenty-six times, but the other musicians told him to leave it. “I was this factory worker puttering around”, Withers said. “So when they said to leave it like that, I left it.”

• The song is featured in one of my all-time favorite movies, Notting Hill, which did not do much to diminish the song’s lustre for me.

• Ain’t No Sunshine is ranked 280th on Rolling Stone‘s list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

Enjoy!