Playin' With the Queen of Hearts

My little brother tortured me with a cassette tape player when he was about 8 years old. He chased me around the house playing the song "Playin with the Queen of Hearts" over and over and over  again. It was brutal but somehow our relationship grew into the  supportive one it is today. I like to remind him of his awful taste in music back then- but I guess I was the one who listened to the Partridge Family when I was 8 .  I will admit that I tried to influence his musical choices after that period. I was worried that he was headed down the wrong  path.  The first tape I ever made for him had the Boomtown Rats on one side and The Jam on the other. He listened to it on our very modern Sony Walkman. The following year I got him Big Country's "The Crossing."  I am  pretty sure he was the only kid in his grade that had a Big Country album. He was that cool.
Happy Birthday, little brother. I think I'll make you a "mix tape" from the bottom of my heart.

Canary in A Coma

When my best friend Marilyn & I first heard The Police's "Canary in a Coal Mine" we misheard a critical word for the comprehension of the song.  We thought the canary was not in a “coal mine” but rather in a “coma.” This was 1981 and The Police was one of the few “new wave” bands sandwiched between Rush and Bob Seeger on the commercial radio stations of western Massachusetts.  The nonsensical image of a little canary in coma fit right in with our burgeoning appreciation for the new music we were slowly learning about via our friends’ older siblings or from reading Rolling Stone. That semester our art teacher was on sabbatical and we had a very laid back substitute who let us use all the art supplies. No more line drawings with charcoal pencils; we were allowed to break out the oil paints and canvas!   Marilyn, who went on to study art at RISD was inspired to paint a canary with little "x" over its eyes. Once we learned the real title of the song, it just didn't carry the same amount whimsy.

Marilyn continued to be a gifted visual artist until her death from cancer in 2009.

Music and Memory

     I can't hear Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life" or "Sweet Sixteen in Leather Boots" without being transported to my best friend  Marilyn's family room circa 1980- dark paneling, overstuffed couch and a big stereo. I think I even hear her mom giving us dating advice- but that's another story. February 22nd would have been her 47th birthday if she had not been snatched away by cancer  a year ago. 
Not all songs I hear from the past have such a visceral effect, but Iggy can really bring me back. We bought that album at a used record store without knowing anything about Mr. Pop. We listened to it at top volume flailing around the room any time her parents were gone. Marilyn was fearless and so much more confident than any other 16 year old I knew. She had these skin tight red corduroys that she called her "rock star jeans" and only she was brave enough to wear them to school. These 2 songs have that incredible power over my brain. It automatically switches into flashback mode. I wish I could  as easily remember all that philosophy I studied in college. But then again, David Hume wasn't my best friend.



 

A little background

Once upon a time I devoted a large portion of my thought process to thinking and talking about music with friends. The first record I consciously remember buying was a 45 of the Archie's singing "Sugar Sugar." My musical tastes followed along with the times and my age- Partridge Family, Donny Osmond, Jackson 5 until I was 10. John Denver and The Beatles til 13. 7th grade seemed to be the time when what you listened to defined who you were.  Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith and Jethro Tull meant you were cool. John Denver was out.

  Most people I talk to who love music seem to always remember these "wake up moments" in their own musical history.  Saturday Night Live is one of those cultural windows for many teenagers. First you have to stay up late and that automatically makes you older and cooler.  I saw Devo for the first time on SNL and they kind of freaked me out a bit until I realized that I actually liked how completely different they were from everything I had ever seen before.  When I saw the B52's I was convinced I wanted to put those Grateful Dead and Neil Young records aside for awhile and see what else was out there. They were kind of the gateway band for my upcoming obsession. I went out and got a used copy of the Sex Pistol's  "Never Mind the Bullocks" and began a new adventure.

Whack ol Ladies Maiden voyage

In lieu of starting a band of 40ish women singing old X and Clash songs, I decided to start a blog instead.

"I'm not dead yet" is a recurring phrase in  my head  as I venture out with the young folks who share my love of music.

You can find us whack ol ladies in the back of your local music venue tapping our feet and trying not to look silly.