music

We’re All In the Dance

Often, I run with my friend Keith. We can go as many as ten miles together, and the conversations run the gamut. But I always have my i-Pod (I just wrote the word Walkman and had to delete it – Google Walkman if you are under twenty). Once, I joked with Keith that if I ever died while we were running–via a tree limb or a plummet from a cliff–that he was to make sure there was a cool song playing on my i-Pod. My playlist is eclectic, to say the least. And I would hate for someone to find my body and have Kelly Clarkson, Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj or any number of Pitbull songs blasting from my ear buds. I’m 43 for Christ’s sake. I love pop music and I’m very top 40, but I would hate for my legacy to begin with Lady Gaga’s Edge of Glory (even though the late, great Clarence Clemons plays saxophone on it). But there is one song that I would proudly play in any situation. We’re All in the Dance by Canadian singer-songwriting sensation, Feist.

Life’s a dance, we all have to do
What does the music require?
People are moving together
Close as the flames in a fire

I heard this song yesterday as I was running the trails of the Schuylkill River on the outskirts of Philadelphia. My mind immediately took me to the Broad Street Run, the premier race in the city of Brotherly Love–which just happened to be yesterday morning. This song was part of my race day repertoire about five years back when I ran that race. Its simple piano melody and waltz-like tempo seems contradictory to music one listens to to stay 240px-Phenakistoscope_3g07690dpumped in a race.  Yet, when I heard that song, something magical happened: The world slowed down. We were all speeding towards a finish line, but everyone seemed to look like they were moving in slow motion. The people around me seemed to bob up and down like horses on a carousel ride. I looked left, then right, at total strangers, and felt like I was surrounded by loved ones, by family, all moving in unison to the beat of this song. Then, there was a wave of emotion; chills that began in my shoulders scattered in every direction, ending on the top of my bald head with a million tingly strands emanating from my brain. It was such a moment of clarity: “We’re all in the dance!”

On that day, it was a race down Broad Street with tens of thousands of people from as many different experiences as there were bib numbers. But it’s also the dance we do as people in the parade of cars during rush hour traffic, or standing in the checkout line pretending not to read the trashy headlines from the tabloids, or the trips to school one takes beginning as a kindergartner, then one day returning as a parent, then a grandparent. The visits to the hospital, from newborn to old man, the times spent in prayer, in sport, in taking in a play, a game, a concert, an art exhibit. The dance involves the person at the restaurant who serves you the food, taken from the kitchen where many hands prepared it, and the one whose hand you lovingly grasp as you leave the establishment, to the homeless person you pass by guiltily with your belly full and your hand growing heavy with more of your meal in a doggy bag.

Even though the Broad Street was always one of my favorite events, I have moved away from road races. Yesterday, I was training for an upcoming trail race. But the runner’s high is achieved in both situations. And this song is always on my i-Pod come race day. I wait until I’m a mile or two in before I let the words wash over me, always to the same effect. My memory floods every time I hear the ethereal voice of Feist remind us that:

We all go ’round and ’round
Partners are lost and found
Looking for one more chance
All I know is,
We’re all in the dance

Feel the beat; music and rhyme
While there is time.

And that is my wish for you. For all of us. That we may feel the beat; music and rhyme–while there is time.

So, if you ever come across my body lying on a trail somewhere, and there happens to be an embarrassing song playing–think of my children and please advance “Now Playing” to Coldplay, Pearl Jam, Green Day, or The Killers. It’s the least you can do after my nice wish for you:)

Take a moment to listen to this song. And don’t worry if you start swaying–I won’t tell anybody.

 

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The Sounds of the ’70s

My car became a time machine last week. On Wednesday, when I was driving to work, I heard a news clip on NPR about the death of singer Patti Page. I was not familiar with this artist, who, apparently, is the top-selling female singer in history according to the news. But I did grow up with one of her songs: How Much Is That Doggie in the Window? When a snippet of that song was played on the news report, I was immediately transported back in time to our purple station wagon. Or maybe it was the Gran Torino with the panel sides. Whichever car it was, those lyrics echoed throughout its vinyl seat interior. My sister loved that song, and would often sing it around the house, while playing outside, and, of course, in the car. Truthfully, I thought it was pretty annoying as a six-year-old, but I would tolerate it because she always let me do the dog bark: “Arf, Arf!”

Hearing these lyrics over thirty years later, I got to thinking about the songs that made up the bizarre soundtrack of my youth. The songs I recall are as farout, groovy, and downright trippy as the seventies themselves. Here are my top ten:

10. One Tin Soldier, by: Coven

I loved how this song took me back in time to a place of kings and knights. I always imagined that I was that one tin soldier who rides away–off to do more battle. In researching the song for this post, I realize why we went around singing it back then. It was a cartoon that was aired during Saturday programming. As I watched the YouTube video, I was certain that I viewed this cartoon in our Rec Room (which I always thought was spelled WReck Room because we always made a mess out of it). The cartoon is a mashup of Schoolhouse Rock and George Orwell’s 1984. This was the first war song I remember from my youth.

9. Lovin’ You, by: Minnie Riperton

This song was weird to kids, but we always had fun lip syncing the falsetto.

8. Dick and Jane (Look Dick Look), by: Bobby Vinton

My grandmother was a big fan of the Polish Prince, Bobby Vinton. I remember going around singing some gibberish for one of his songs with Polish lyrics: Yola shogga masha colta–these were the words I sang. But the real favorite was this one about two young people and love–ripped straight from the pages of our elementary school readers, Fun with Dick and Jane. This song made me ponder the meaning of the word “vain” every time I heard it (Then one day, he kissed her, but it was all in vain…) Poor Dick! Poor Jane!

7. Delta Dawn, by: Helen Reddy

Helen Reddy could rock this song–even though in this video she looks like she’s performing it at her 7th grade talent show. Everyone knew the lyrics to Delta Dawn. And I felt so sorry for her. Forty-one and not married. In my head, I would think “I’d marry you if I was older.” After all, in her younger days she was the prettiest thing you ever saw. Then there’s that faded rose–I could just picture Dawn and Barry Manilow’s Lola the showgirl commiserating with their faded rose and feathers over lost love at some singles’ bar in that mansion in the sky.

6. Muskrat Love, by: The Captain and Tennille

For anyone who did not live in the ’70s, please watch this video. It was a time so weird, so freakishly fun and uncomfortable at the same time. The video is classic kitsch from this wacky era. How could The Captain and Tennille make so many people care about rodent love? How could The Captain score a babe like Tennille? These are questions that still haunt me today.

5. Please Come to Boston, by: Dave Loggins

This song is in my top 10 because my brother and I would sing it all the time walking to and from football practice in grade school. But since we didn’t know the real lyrics, we made up our own: “Please come to Boston/ with me and Steve Austin (The 6 million dollar man)/ and we’ll have a party/ something something fart something.”

4. Dust in the Wind, by: Kansas

Even a straight-laced fifth grader wearing a tie to Catholic school everyday knew this song was about drugs. The lyrics were haunting and heavenly at the same time. I put it in my list because I remember driving home from a Saturday football game with my older brother’s friends and the mom who drove us sang this song like it was her job. Mrs. “H” was a large woman, and she could be rough and intimidating. She wore t-shirts that had cute animals on them that said things like: “I’m so happy I could shit!” Yet, when she sang Dust in the Wind she was as light as a feather, as gentle as a songbird…To this day, whenever I hear it, I think of Mrs. H.

3. Undercover Angel, by: Alan O’Day

I remember hearing this song while piled in the way back of our station wagon on the way to a pool party. There were 4 of us crammed in the back, and one guy started doing some inappropriate gestures in time with the lyrics–pretending his swim towel was a cover and motioning the angel to get underneath it. I had a confused look on my nine-year-old face. “The guy wants to have sex with this lady in the song,” he explained to me. I was shocked. What kind of angel was she? We’re all going to Hell, I thought. But it made me pay more attention to lyrics from then on.

2. Playground In My Mind, by: Clint Holmes

This song holds a special place for me because the beginning talks about a kid named Michael and a girl named Cindy who grow up and get married. It felt cool having my name in a song–a song that made it to number 2 on the Billboard Charts, believe it or not. And, the girl next door was named Cindy and we would go around singing the words and joke about getting married.

1. Seasons in the Sun, by: Terry Jacks

What a maudlin song. It captivated our minds in the ’70s as we went around on our roller skates and Schwinn bikes singing about death. I loved how this guy got to say “Goodbye” to people before he died (That’s my mother’s influence on me). I remember listening to this in a neighbor’s basement, and we all just started bawling. Such melodrama, but remember this was pre-cable TV, so we had to get our kicks wherever we could find them. Quick note–I hate the last line of this song–it’s silly: But the stars that we reached, were just starfish on the beach. Bad imagery. But not as bad as Jacks’ perm.

Honorable Mention:

Three Jolly Fishermen

This classic Boy Scout song is not one that I heard on the radio, but my family used to sing it on the ten minute drive to my grandmother’s house. What I loved about this song was we all got to curse. The last line talks about the three fishermen going down the AmsterDAM: AMster, Amster, dam, dam ,dam. Oh, how we screamed that part:)