New Michael Jackson Single

Has anyone else been a long-time praying for a Michael Jackson reunion—you know, one with the original members? Yeah, I know it’s one guy, but didn’t he used be played by someone who looked a lot different? (Was that Dick York or Dick Sargent? I get confused). Anywho, you need only check out the Ed Sullivan “ABC” performance on YouTube or ”Beat It” to weep with sorrow over the loss of a national treasure. Man that kid had the moves.

When I saw that Michael Jackson was releasing a single for the first time in 7 years, my heart skipped a beat. Yeah, I know, he hasn’t done anything of musical significance in a middle-schooler’s lifetime, but I’ve never fully given up on him. So, hooray, Micahel version 7.0 is launched. And what’s that new single?

“The Girl is Mine.”

No way. Bandits have taken over a computer server farm. The pentagon could be hit next. Somebody take the whole ‘net down until we get it all secured.

Well, it’s the only explanation. Out of the entire Michael Jackson catalog, the last song that anyone needs to be reminded of is “The Girl is Mine.” I’m waiting for Paul McCartney to file suit…not because he’s been replaced by will.i.am, but because mention of the “The Girl is Mine” is a reminder that he was involved in the debacle as well.

C’mon, Michael, you’re clearly willing to get help from friends. So, how about new song ideas, not just new backing tracks. Time to stop with the nostalgia and do something with teeth.

The Times They Are a-Changin’ - Not Really

I’m keeping this blog a PG affair, but this is a blue topic. Fair warning, that was.

I keep finding that my perceptions of history are flawed. Things that seem to have sprung up overnight rarely do and humankind hasn’t evolved nearly as fast or as far as we think it has. For example, as a kid (back when the world revolved me), I assumed that suggestive lyrics began only when they first suggested something to me.

Perhaps some of my confusion came from my awareness that the birth of rock ‘n’ roll was not welcomed by parents or church leaders. Of course, I thought they were really reaching to read something bad into the popular songs of that day. Plus, I had yet to hear anything more suggestive than, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” when that impression of empty concern was formed. So, I sort of got the notion that songs before 1955 couldn’t possibly have anything objectionable about them. I’ve since been schooled.

I think credit goes to the PBS show, “History Detectives.” Maybe if your a blues student, you already know this, but there’s a whole collection of old blues songs that are bona fide naughty. Is that funny? Is that disturbing? I don’t know. I guess in a sad way, I find it comforting that the media world—the internet, television . . . movies with sound—isn’t the singular spoiler it’s sometimes been made out to be; that is, human beings were already a mischievous sort.

If you’re curious, check out the song titles and audio samples of the CD “Raunchy Business: Hot Nuts & Lollypops” on Amazon.com. Here’s a sample of lyrics recorded in 1935 by Lil’ Johnson:

“Look what you can get cheap! Only five cents, boys! Nice and brown, too! Everyone’s crazy ’bout my nuts!”

The song’s called “Get ‘Em From the Peanut Man (Hot Nuts),” and I still can’t believe my eyes/ears. Think of it: there’s a Parental Advisory—Explicit Lyrics sticker on pre-WWII material.

Say, is that his real name?

How Open Are You?

I’m not sure how we get hooked on our favorite types of music. I learned early on that my musical tastes were not at all inherited. Of course, I like to think that I am so open-minded that music in all it’s forms should appeal to me. Well, that’s silly.

I think musical tastes is sometimes broadened by passive listening. Movies have all types of music in them. Sometimes a little unintentional exposure hooks you into something new. At the same time, I suppose, movies are also powerful purveyors of stereotypes. And, just like with everything else, it’s easy for us to treat areas we have little knowledge of or interest in with stereotypes. For example, those who turn their nose up at American Country music probably think of it terms of twang, cowboy hats, and the clichès about losing your woman, your truck, and your dog, and then recall the least persuasive appealing memory of those icons.

I always rolled my eyes at the college course titles about appreciation of the arts, but it makes more and more sense to me. If you don’t appreciate some form of art that other people adore, you may not know enough about it. I confess I’m taken in by those Time-Life (and similar) nostalgia music collection infomercials. It’s a great way to see what—well, at least Time-Life says are the essential songs of a particular kind of music at a particular time in history.

Well, anyway, is there a particular kind of music you once thought you detested or at least didn’t care for that you had an epiphany about? In other words, how’s your musical tastes changed since you were a kid?

Don’t Forget to Name that Singing Bee

Decades ago there was a game show called “Name That Tune”. It asked contestants to listen to a “house orchestra” play a few notes from a popular song and, as the title says, “name that tune.” I guess that might be a lot easier than Joey Fatone’s “Don’t Forget the Lyrics” or Wayne Brady’s “The Singing Bee,” but there was always the final round where contestants challenged each other to identify a song in the fewest number of notes. And I saw people actually identify a song with only two notes to go on.

Actually, I’m surprised to see the newest music shows. With the growing media and music choices you wonder how there could still be a common pool of songs, books, movies, TV shows, etc. that a culture at large is familiar with. And yet there it is. Oh, I’m not about to analyze it all scientifically here, but I suspect that even as a diverse culture and even with our growing tendency to customize and personalize our immediate environment, I think that we still have a need to be a part of the group as a whole. What do you think?

I Speak Music

Sooner or later all performers have the thrill of seeing how their performance has affected someone. Of course, when you’re in school you tend to presume that any praise is given out partly out of some sense of duty or parent or school pride.

I want to tell you about the experience I had when I went on a band tour of Europe. I was just out of high school (my band director’s nomimation got in the tour). Of course I was focused on getting the music right and hoping no one would notice I wasn’t even in the same league as the other hundred kids (I was from a small town). I really hadn’t thought about who the audience would be when we got to Europe. Well, our first concert was in Luxembourg Garden in Paris. After all, it was the first time I’d ever performed for someone who had absolutely no connection to me other than proximity. When we played “Stars & Stripes Forever,” they clapped in time.

I got chills. Buried in the thoughts about just getting the music right, was the notion that it was a bit obnoxious to be playing a big old American flag-waver in the middle of France. And yet they got it. It was music they recognized and appreciated. I was surprised to learn I knew their language.