There apparently was a problem with radio, or at least the few radio stations I listened to, getting this song properly identified. Everyone knew the obvious (a duet between David Crosby and Phil Collins) but there were conflicting reports as to whose song it was. I distinctly remember being led down the path that this was a single off the new Phil Collins album, which was incorrect. Usually when Collins was involved someone always liked to assume it was a Genesis track, which would have been incorrect. The correct answer would have been the new David Crosby album, Thousand Roads, though I suspect it didn't matter.
Hero also warranted some of the most solemn DJ work I've ever heard. Thanks to the hazy synthesizers and Crosby's voice, I've always thought of this song as some elegy on lost childhood. (Also, where were Collins's canon drums for this one?) DJs who were too excited too speak coherently and oozing energy over new music by Mariah Carey and Meatloaf suddenly were conveying information about the new Phil Collins song (featuring David Crosby) in such hushed and cheerless tones that you wondered if someone died. Maybe it was their way of showing their sensitive side. Right.
Now that I think about it, maybe some DJs flubbed a little on track ownership since Collins was more of a "name" artist at that time than Crosby, Still, Nash or even Young. Fans of Phil already had to deal with We Can't Dance from two years prior and Both Sides of the Story was mildly popular. As such, Crosby really didn't have much going on at the moment. He needed to only wait a few years to perhaps use this song as a lullaby for his newborn children – thanks in part to Melissa Etheridge. You know, teach your children well, and all that sort of thing.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Hero
(Phil Collins/David Crosby)
David Crosby
From the album Thousand Roads
1993
It was one of those great stories that you can't put down at night
The hero knew what he had to do and he wasn't afraid to fight
The villain goes to jail while the hero goes free
I wish it were that simple for me
And the reason that she loved him
Was the reason I loved him too
And he never wondered what was right or wrong
He just knew, he just knew
Shadow and shade mix together at dawn
But by the time you catch them simplicity's gone
So we sort through the pieces my friends and I
Searching through the darkness to find the breaks in the sky
And the reason that she loved him
Was the reason I loved him too
And he never wondered what was right or wrong
He just knew, he just knew
And we wonder yes, we wonder
How do you make sense of this
When the hero kills the maiden
With his kiss, with his kiss
Well, it was one of those great stories that you can't put down at night
The hero knew what he had to do and he wasn't afraid to fight
The villain goes to jail while the hero goes free
I wish it were that simple for me
Were that simple for me
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Tofu, brown rice and carrot juice
I once thought it would funny to compile a list of lyrics to instrumental songs. The inspired concept behind such a feat was that occasional instrumental jazzy-rock tunes sometimes featured dialogue – be them mumbled or scat-sung in the background. However, to shoot down this lead idea, much of these spoken bits were not prominent to begin with (probably nothing more than verbal brainstorming) and we all should focus on the music at hand as that was what got us listening in the first place.
Still, with that mindset, there was a certain scholarly attempt to decipher not only the chanting chorus that grooved along with David Sanborn's saxophone in Bang Bang, but its meaning. I had first caught an earful of the rolling tune in the early 90s and found it an irresistible piece of jazz-fusion, an instrumental piece standing out like a sore thumb in the midst of bawdy balladry of Adult Contemporary radio.
Sanborn's been in the music biz for decades, having released albums since 1975 and is still going strong 30 years later, but this was my first encounter with him and his music. Still, having heard nothing by him before this, I sensed something different with this track. Like cornbread. And hog maw. Plus chitlins. But tofu? What's carrot juice got to do with the equation? Finally making out some of the words was a step in the right direction but it never really answered the question of what the song is about – except maybe food. To understand the song, you have to realize Sanborn's version is a cover of song written by Joe Cuba in the late 1960s. Cuba, better known as Gilberto Miguel Calderon, is considered the father of the style of music called Boogaloo, culled from elements of rock, blues, jazz, and Latin American rhythms. These musical styles were first fused together in the late 1960s, with Bang Bang recognized as the biggest Boogaloo hit of that decade.
Buscasalsa.com explains the lyrics: "though of no consistent narrative or dramatic significance, [the lyrics] nevertheless do have a meaning, which is the interplay of Black and Latin festivity and culture, the playful mingling of African-American phrases and cultural symbols with those from Puerto Rican daily life."
And now we know. Or at least we like to think we do.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Bang Bang
(Joe Cuba/Jimmy Sabater)
David Sanborn
From the album Upfront
1992
Still, with that mindset, there was a certain scholarly attempt to decipher not only the chanting chorus that grooved along with David Sanborn's saxophone in Bang Bang, but its meaning. I had first caught an earful of the rolling tune in the early 90s and found it an irresistible piece of jazz-fusion, an instrumental piece standing out like a sore thumb in the midst of bawdy balladry of Adult Contemporary radio.
Sanborn's been in the music biz for decades, having released albums since 1975 and is still going strong 30 years later, but this was my first encounter with him and his music. Still, having heard nothing by him before this, I sensed something different with this track. Like cornbread. And hog maw. Plus chitlins. But tofu? What's carrot juice got to do with the equation? Finally making out some of the words was a step in the right direction but it never really answered the question of what the song is about – except maybe food. To understand the song, you have to realize Sanborn's version is a cover of song written by Joe Cuba in the late 1960s. Cuba, better known as Gilberto Miguel Calderon, is considered the father of the style of music called Boogaloo, culled from elements of rock, blues, jazz, and Latin American rhythms. These musical styles were first fused together in the late 1960s, with Bang Bang recognized as the biggest Boogaloo hit of that decade.
Buscasalsa.com explains the lyrics: "though of no consistent narrative or dramatic significance, [the lyrics] nevertheless do have a meaning, which is the interplay of Black and Latin festivity and culture, the playful mingling of African-American phrases and cultural symbols with those from Puerto Rican daily life."
And now we know. Or at least we like to think we do.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Bang Bang
(Joe Cuba/Jimmy Sabater)
David Sanborn
From the album Upfront
1992
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Hear the younger generation ask, why do I feel this way?
This one is more my brother's memory but I've heard it so often that I think of it as my own.
For a few years when I was in high school, there was a family in the neighborhood named Palmers. I don't have a clue as to the names of the parents and it's wholly unimportant but they had two sons who were, at least important to this anecdote. I don't recall much about the family other than I went over there with my brother a few times. If I were to choose a word to describe them I'd use "scatterbrained" for the dual purpose that it is a rather uncommon word these days and the fact that the shoe fit. Common sense was not their chief export.
Their older son (Chris) was roughly the same age as my brother, probably four-to-five years younger than me, and blissfully absorbed in the notion of fitting in. Age-wise, Chris was close to joining the ranks of Junior High School and was making an effort to fit in. Chris himself had a younger brother and this is where part of the memory gets shaky: I don't remember if it was Doug or Dudley. That really is not that funny of a question unless you know that whichever name it was not, was in fact the name of one of the family's dogs. You probably would not be surprised to know that, just as I don't know now, I then regularly scored low on properly identifying which was Doug and which was Dudley (I'd like to think Dudley was the dog, as no one in their right mind name a child Dudley – but this was the Palmers', mind you). My joke was the parents would yell out the back door, "Chris! Doug, Dudley! Muffin! Dinnertime!" and two boys and two dogs would come running (Muffin, for those keeping score, should be easily discernable).
Paula Abdul fits into the equation, but toward the end – right before you carry to the three, half the remainder and so on. She danced into the limelight in the late 1980s with Forever Your Girl and four #1 hit singles, none of which we'll worry about now. It was her second album – or her next to last studio album – that featured Promise of a New Day, a song I recall as syrupy and fluffy and, as the saying goes, bubblegum for the ears – in short, almost as enjoyable as generously applying foodstuff to the inner ear cavity.
Visits to the Palmer house were few and far between for me; my brother was a more everyday guest but in diminishing frequency. Toward the end of their brief stopover in the neighborhood, I think Chris was trying harder to fit in with the "cool" kids and began tuning out my brother. What is generally thought of as the last time both my brother and I were at the Palmer house, we discovered Chris wanted to stay inside and do "nothin'" except watch television. Music television, to be exact. As We didn't have Music Television and caught ourselves a few peaks of what we missing. As we left, Paula Abdul's video for Promise of a New Day was on, featuring Paula jumping out of a field or prancing across a cloudy sky. As long as she wasn't dancing about the joys of Diet Coke.
And that was our brief encounter with Music Television. Also with the Palmers – my brother lamented that his lasting memory of the family was such an upbeat, annoyingly positive song.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The Promise of a New Day
(Paula Abdul/Peter Lord/Sandra St. Victor/V. Jeffrey Smith)
Paula Abdul
From the album Spellbound
1991
Eagle's calling
And he's calling your name
Tides are turning
Bringing winds of change
Why do I feel this way
The promise of a new day
Chorus:
The promise
The promise of a new day
As thru time
The earth moves
Under my feet
One step closer
To make love complete
What has the final say
The promise of a new day
Chorus x2
And so time over time
What will change the world
No one knows
So the only promise
Is a day to live, to give
And share with one another
See the wisdom from mistakes in our past
Hear the younger generation ask
Why do I feel this way
The promise of a new day
Chorus x2
And so time over time
What will change the world
No one knows
So the only promise
Is a day to live, to give
And share with one another
For a few years when I was in high school, there was a family in the neighborhood named Palmers. I don't have a clue as to the names of the parents and it's wholly unimportant but they had two sons who were, at least important to this anecdote. I don't recall much about the family other than I went over there with my brother a few times. If I were to choose a word to describe them I'd use "scatterbrained" for the dual purpose that it is a rather uncommon word these days and the fact that the shoe fit. Common sense was not their chief export.
Their older son (Chris) was roughly the same age as my brother, probably four-to-five years younger than me, and blissfully absorbed in the notion of fitting in. Age-wise, Chris was close to joining the ranks of Junior High School and was making an effort to fit in. Chris himself had a younger brother and this is where part of the memory gets shaky: I don't remember if it was Doug or Dudley. That really is not that funny of a question unless you know that whichever name it was not, was in fact the name of one of the family's dogs. You probably would not be surprised to know that, just as I don't know now, I then regularly scored low on properly identifying which was Doug and which was Dudley (I'd like to think Dudley was the dog, as no one in their right mind name a child Dudley – but this was the Palmers', mind you). My joke was the parents would yell out the back door, "Chris! Doug, Dudley! Muffin! Dinnertime!" and two boys and two dogs would come running (Muffin, for those keeping score, should be easily discernable).
Paula Abdul fits into the equation, but toward the end – right before you carry to the three, half the remainder and so on. She danced into the limelight in the late 1980s with Forever Your Girl and four #1 hit singles, none of which we'll worry about now. It was her second album – or her next to last studio album – that featured Promise of a New Day, a song I recall as syrupy and fluffy and, as the saying goes, bubblegum for the ears – in short, almost as enjoyable as generously applying foodstuff to the inner ear cavity.
Visits to the Palmer house were few and far between for me; my brother was a more everyday guest but in diminishing frequency. Toward the end of their brief stopover in the neighborhood, I think Chris was trying harder to fit in with the "cool" kids and began tuning out my brother. What is generally thought of as the last time both my brother and I were at the Palmer house, we discovered Chris wanted to stay inside and do "nothin'" except watch television. Music television, to be exact. As We didn't have Music Television and caught ourselves a few peaks of what we missing. As we left, Paula Abdul's video for Promise of a New Day was on, featuring Paula jumping out of a field or prancing across a cloudy sky. As long as she wasn't dancing about the joys of Diet Coke.
And that was our brief encounter with Music Television. Also with the Palmers – my brother lamented that his lasting memory of the family was such an upbeat, annoyingly positive song.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The Promise of a New Day
(Paula Abdul/Peter Lord/Sandra St. Victor/V. Jeffrey Smith)
Paula Abdul
From the album Spellbound
1991
Eagle's calling
And he's calling your name
Tides are turning
Bringing winds of change
Why do I feel this way
The promise of a new day
Chorus:
The promise
The promise of a new day
As thru time
The earth moves
Under my feet
One step closer
To make love complete
What has the final say
The promise of a new day
Chorus x2
And so time over time
What will change the world
No one knows
So the only promise
Is a day to live, to give
And share with one another
See the wisdom from mistakes in our past
Hear the younger generation ask
Why do I feel this way
The promise of a new day
Chorus x2
And so time over time
What will change the world
No one knows
So the only promise
Is a day to live, to give
And share with one another
Sunday, March 4, 2007
I spend my money of lottery, my favorite number is one-two-three
As one would expect, the beginning of the 1990s brought forth a lot of popular music that was sort of the same thing you'd expect from 1989: slick, lightweight tunes, some with a dance-pop mentality, others with New Jack influences, or something else just as non-threatening. This was what AC radio did best – happy fluff to get you through your day.
The Calloway boys were a good example of this slick sound, since both Reggie and Vincent had been around since the early 1980s as founders of Midnight Star, best remembered for the impressively popular Freak-A-Zoid and Operator singles. By 1986, the Calloways had departed for greener – and solo – pastures, resurfacing on the dance floor in the early 1990s with their biggest and most recognizable hit, I Wanna Be Rich. But what happened? Why did the song get too old too fast? Sure, it was a positive bit of wishful thinking and recorded with the best intentions but part of the problem may have been that after being told, "I wanna be rich" for so long, you often want to know something else. Those stations I listened to probably over-saturated the song to the point listeners didn't care to hear about their fiscal desires and admirations anymore. Other singles were released, I've read, and another album hit store shelves but the boys soon began to hone their productions skills on a full time basis. Perhaps wishing they had indeed gotten rich, maybe?
Actually, the one thing that always bothered me about the song was how I first heard it. For whatever reason, the staff of FM-93 liked to remind listeners they were, in fact, listening to FM-93. A lot of the listeners probably already knew what they were listening to but what could we do? Besides the onslaught of station liners you heard throughout the day, the station often would incorporate subtle hints into songs...subliminal almost, if you will. For this song, the station utilized some hefty production skills, recording a snippet of vocal track, and inserting that into the actual song. Everyone listening to FM-93, instead of being told, "my favorite number is one, two, three," heard Calloway essentially promote the station, with "my favorite number is ninety-three."
It wasn't until years later I finally heard the song on another station and did a double take – Calloway's favorite number had changed! How? Why? Well, the first thing I thought of was how what became staples of 1990's music had killed FM-93. That, and the long-defunct station must have spent some major money to pay someone to sound just like Calloway.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I Wanna Be Rich
(Reggie Calloway/Vincent Calloway/Melvin Gentry/Belinda Lipscomb)
Calloway
From the album All the Way
1990
Cash cold that's what I need
These bill collectors they ring my phone
They bother me when I'm not at home
Ain't go no time to be fooling round
Feel touch the floors and I get on down, you see
Chorus:
I want money lots and lots of money
I want the pie in the sky
I want money lots and lots of money
So don't be asking me why
I wanna be rich oh
I wanna be rich
I wanna be rich oh
I wanna be rich
I want my cake wanna eat it too
I want the stars and the silver moon
I spend my money of lottery
My favorite number is one-two-three, you see
Chorus
Everyway rich
Love peace and happiness
I want all the things that lovers do
A pocketfull of dreams come true
Everything you can not find
Want you by my side?
That keep you satisfied and rich
Here is what you gonna do
Say oh I say uh uh
Got to be baby
I just wanna be rich
I just wanna be, just wanna be
Cause baby
Chorus
Be rich I wanna be rich
I know what I mean baby
Everyday and everyway
Play baby there is lots for everyone
The Calloway boys were a good example of this slick sound, since both Reggie and Vincent had been around since the early 1980s as founders of Midnight Star, best remembered for the impressively popular Freak-A-Zoid and Operator singles. By 1986, the Calloways had departed for greener – and solo – pastures, resurfacing on the dance floor in the early 1990s with their biggest and most recognizable hit, I Wanna Be Rich. But what happened? Why did the song get too old too fast? Sure, it was a positive bit of wishful thinking and recorded with the best intentions but part of the problem may have been that after being told, "I wanna be rich" for so long, you often want to know something else. Those stations I listened to probably over-saturated the song to the point listeners didn't care to hear about their fiscal desires and admirations anymore. Other singles were released, I've read, and another album hit store shelves but the boys soon began to hone their productions skills on a full time basis. Perhaps wishing they had indeed gotten rich, maybe?
Actually, the one thing that always bothered me about the song was how I first heard it. For whatever reason, the staff of FM-93 liked to remind listeners they were, in fact, listening to FM-93. A lot of the listeners probably already knew what they were listening to but what could we do? Besides the onslaught of station liners you heard throughout the day, the station often would incorporate subtle hints into songs...subliminal almost, if you will. For this song, the station utilized some hefty production skills, recording a snippet of vocal track, and inserting that into the actual song. Everyone listening to FM-93, instead of being told, "my favorite number is one, two, three," heard Calloway essentially promote the station, with "my favorite number is ninety-three."
It wasn't until years later I finally heard the song on another station and did a double take – Calloway's favorite number had changed! How? Why? Well, the first thing I thought of was how what became staples of 1990's music had killed FM-93. That, and the long-defunct station must have spent some major money to pay someone to sound just like Calloway.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I Wanna Be Rich
(Reggie Calloway/Vincent Calloway/Melvin Gentry/Belinda Lipscomb)
Calloway
From the album All the Way
1990
Cash cold that's what I need
These bill collectors they ring my phone
They bother me when I'm not at home
Ain't go no time to be fooling round
Feel touch the floors and I get on down, you see
Chorus:
I want money lots and lots of money
I want the pie in the sky
I want money lots and lots of money
So don't be asking me why
I wanna be rich oh
I wanna be rich
I wanna be rich oh
I wanna be rich
I want my cake wanna eat it too
I want the stars and the silver moon
I spend my money of lottery
My favorite number is one-two-three, you see
Chorus
Everyway rich
Love peace and happiness
I want all the things that lovers do
A pocketfull of dreams come true
Everything you can not find
Want you by my side?
That keep you satisfied and rich
Here is what you gonna do
Say oh I say uh uh
Got to be baby
I just wanna be rich
I just wanna be, just wanna be
Cause baby
Chorus
Be rich I wanna be rich
I know what I mean baby
Everyday and everyway
Play baby there is lots for everyone
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