Every really good band is made up of certain elements that give it a unique, recognizable sound. For The Doors, Ray Manzarek’s keyboards were the thing that made you know right away who you were listening to. A while back I pondered the question of which rock and roll drummer was the first to make the drums an important piece of the band’s sound. The drums have always been necessary in rock and roll, but Keith Moon really made them necessary for The Who to sound like The Who. Ray Manzarek did this for The Doors.
Since The Doors had no bass guitarist, Ray used his keyboard magic to provide that heaviness and it made all the difference in their music. Of course, Jim Morrison was an amazing performer (even when he was fucked up), and his dramatic interpretation of each song was made more incredible and intriguing when accompanied by Ray’s electric keyboard licks. His blues- and jazz-based style gave The Doors just what they needed to break out of obscurity and become legends.
“Light My Fire” is their best known song, and it houses one of the best keyboard solos of all time. Very few can compete with its power, its perfect placement in such a brilliant song, and though that solo has been called indulgent, boring, or simply far too long, resulting in it being significantly shortened for the single and for radio, I find it perfect and necessary. It’s a long, beautiful trip. I shout Fuck yeah! whenever I hear it.
Their version of Willie Dixon’s “Back Door Man” also showcases some sweet-ass keyboard action. It just makes sense here. Jim’s moaning and Ray’s keyboard fingering work together perfectly to reach a satisfying climax that makes you want a cigarette when it’s finished. In “The End,” Ray’s haunting music allows Jim to freestyle his way into incoherent brilliance. “When the Music’s Over,” which is one of my favorite Doors songs and is on my favorite Doors album, Strange Days, requires those keyboards as much as it requires Jim’s foreboding lyrics. The opening of “Touch Me” is exciting proof that The Doors still had it goin’ on, despite the lounge act feel of The Soft Parade.
And what the hell would “Hello, I Love You” be without Ray? That song is made for an organ specialist (nudge nudge, wink wink). And “Five to One”? “Roadhouse Blues”? “Love Her Madly”? Forget about it. Fucking genius.
“L.A. Woman” and “Riders on the Storm” were their two last epic songs, and Ray did them justice. He brought the speed in “L.A. Woman,” and mellowed us out in “Riders on the Storm.”
As I said, all members of a band are necessary to sound like the band. But Ray Manzarek’s superior keyboard talents gave The Doors that extra je ne sais quoi. He made The Doors sound like The Doors.
So. I have never done heroin or any other drugs. I used to be a drunk, so I could relate to being a hot mess in that way. When I was obsessed with “Lust for Life” I was in my late 20s and my mess was getting hotter every day. I had been an Iggy fan for a few years, having purchased Raw Power when I was about 23. Hot damn is that a fucking fantastic album! I am pretty sure I first heard “Lust for Life” in Trainspotting in the summer of 1996. I think I went to see it because I heard some of Iggy’s music was going to be in it. I got the soundtrack, of course, and later bought Nude & Rude: The Best of Iggy Pop, which had “Lust for Life,” “The Stranger,” and some early Stooges stuff on it. I was very impressed with everything.
Iggy’s music was perfect for Trainspotting, not only because the movie is about a bunch of junkies, but because the way it’s edited lends itself to such energetic sounds. I took this guy I was lusting after to see the movie, and the Scottish accents were so strong he had no idea what the fuck they were saying. He fell asleep in the middle of the movie.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of it. I saw it several times in the theatre and bought it as soon as it was out on video. That junkie world fascinated me. I had read Iggy’s I Need More and lots of other books by and about drug addicts, and being pretty straight-laced (except for my drinking, which in 1996 was still fun) at the time it really intrigued me. Not that I ever wanted to try heroin or coke or any of that shit, but the self-destruction of it all was interesting.
When I really got all up in the song a few years later, my drinking was still fun for the most part, but the seeds of the tragedy I was to become were being planted every week at a goth club that had 80’s nights on Wednesdays. I started going there with a coworker who was 19. I was 27. We got along great at work, and we hung out a few times at bars that were closer to our houses, but when we heard about the 80’s night on the other side of Cleveland, we got excited. He was too young to really remember much of that decade, but he was a musician and loved all kinds of music, so he really wanted to check it out.
I had not been out much for the previous year. My BFF moved to New York for work, and without him I didn’t see any reason to leave the house. So I saw 80’s night as my opportunity to love the nightlife again. Pat suggested that we invite the new guy, Todd, who was co-assistant manager with me and had recently come to our coffee shop from one of our other shops that closed down. Pat had a man-crush on Todd. I always said that he looked at Todd as Fonzie. So I asked Todd to come, and he said he would try.
Since Pat was underage, I got to drink as much as possible and he got to drive my drunk ass around. I took full advantage of that. And Todd showed up that night, looking fine as hell in his black leather pants and white tank top, his long, thick hair flowing just above his shoulders. Day-um! I needed to get on that.
The three of us started going to 80’s night every week. Todd lived near the bar, so he’d meet us there. Pat always drove since we lived close to each other, and he’d play all kinds of music for me on the way. He had been in a bunch of punk bands and would sometimes play their CDs, or he would play other stuff he loved and knew I would get into. I was not interested in Green Day at the time, but Pat turned me into a fan.
“Lust for Life” was released in 1977, but they still played it on 80’s night for some reason. And I danced my motherfucking ass off when it came on! Holy shit, is that a hot song to tear up the dance floor to when you’re a drunk bitch! And tear that shit up I did. I used to request it, but after a while the DJ knew I wanted to hear it and would play it for me automatically. I had it like that at that bar. All the gays went there for 80’s night as well, since there really wasn’t a big gay bar to go to on Wednesdays at that time. I made lots of new friends there. It was an eclectic collection of people on Wednesdays, and that gave it an amazing energy. I was the Queen of Wednesday Nights!
I had been getting tattooed for three and a half years by this point, and I think I had 5 or 6. Suddenly, it struck me that I needed to get an Iggy tattoo! Most of my tattoos have come to me through such epiphanies. He represented danger and excitement and sex and music and art and energy and scandal, and I needed more of all that shit! I thought I should get IGGY written vertically on my right ankle in the font used on the Raw Power album cover. Yes, that would be my next tattoo. I talked about it with Pat, and he said he thought I was going to get Iggy himself tattooed on me. I told him that just his name would look cool, but he said that if I were going to get something Iggy-related, that it should be the man. I didn’t have any portrait tattoos yet, and I had no idea where to put Iggy on my body. Pat immediately explained that it would look sweet on my right side, just above my hip. Hmm. That sounded awesome. He said I should get the picture from the Raw Power cover. That was it. I brought in my CD cover, they traced it, and onto my body went Iggy!
In the few weeks prior to getting inked, I would tell everyone on Wednesday nights that I was getting Iggy on me soon. I’d lift my shirt and show them where it was going to be etched into my skin. And once it was on me, well, I could hardly keep my shirt on! As soon as those first beats of “Lust for Life” started, I pulled up my shirt and ran out to the dance floor to shake my ass. It was a great time.
I have a high tolerance for pain, so none of my tattoos were unpleasant to get. The only thing that bothered me about getting Iggy was the position I had to twist my body into for the tattoo artist to get it right. All the guys who worked in the shop were hovering over me as I was under the needle. It was quite the spectacle, and I loved the attention. They were impressed that I was so calm. I dig that tattoo needle more than I can express.
That night, I tried sleeping on my left side so Iggy could heal properly. I lathered him up in Vaseline after cleaning him one last time before bed, and then I pulled the sheets and blanket over my body and eventually drifted off to sleep. While I slept, however, I rolled over onto my right side. I woke up with Iggy stuck to my white, blue-flowered sheet. It reminded me of when we were kids and we’d use Silly Putty to copy a comic strip. Slowly and steadily, I peeled my skin away from the sheet, which now had a perfect image of Raw Power Iggy imprinted on it!
Iggy will always be by my side!
Aside from flashing everyone at the bar once Iggy was part of me forever, I especially enjoyed showing it to Todd. I think the first time he saw it was after work one night. He may have been driving me to my car or something. I think we went out drinking right after work, and when we got back to the parking lot at work things started happening. And he got an up-close and personal look at Iggy. They became good friends that night.
“Acquiesce” is one of my favorite Oasis songs. It’s huge and booming and important. When I first bought The Masterplan I would play this song repeatedly. It’s hard to believe that it’s from a compilation album of B-sides. But as it says in the liner notes, Noel and Liam “believe a B-side is no excuse not to care.” It’s a really great song.
I don’t know what it is
that makes me feel alive
I don’t know how to wake
the things that sleep inside
I only wanna see the light
that shines behind your eyes
Yes. This. “Acquiesce” was originally recorded in 1995 as the B-side to “Some Might Say,” but I had not heard it until the 1998 compilation The Masterplan was released. The first few words of “Morning Glory” and the brief strums of the guitar at the beginning gave me everything I needed to know that this was going to be an amazing fucking song.
It’s a very Liam song, from the moment he starts to sing the first lyrics. What I have always loved about his style is the way he enunciates the last syllable of the last word in every line. And you can just imagine him singing this song, his hands behind his back like he’s being held captive, straining his neck upwards to barely reach the mike, just being an incredible performer and not giving a fuck. I also love that Noel sings the shit out of the chorus, his powerful voice (much more powerful than Liam’s) carrying the word believe for miles above our heads, the audience feeling the energy in his spirit and worshiping his lyrical prowess. I feel like Liam and Noel are singing to each other, sort of a call-and-response thing. This is a song meant to be played to a stadium crowd. And you should never listen to it on an iPod. Not even once. It loses something; its hugeness is missing when you play it on such a tiny instrument. Good music is always lost when you minimize it like that.
The first stanza of lyrics could not have been more poignant or necessary for me in 1998. My best friend and I had broken up a year earlier, and I was really trying to figure out my shit. I had a new BFF and was out and about every night with the gays, waving my titties all over town. And I had a lot of fun! My new BFF was, thankfully, very much unlike the previous one. He was not possessive or pushy or stifling in any way. We were not codependent. I could breathe. And I sure the hell let loose whenever and wherever I wanted! I was trying to figure out what it meant to be alive, but now I was doing it through experience instead of reading about it in books or watching movies.
“Acquiesce” is about friendship. I always thought it was specifically about the Brothers Gallagher, but they have denied this. I still think it has something to do with them, but whatever. It’s an excellent piece of music and lyrically brilliant, and I could relate to it in a lot of ways back then. And now that I am 40, it still matters to me, perhaps even more.
Because we need each other
We believe in one another
And I know we’re going to uncover
what’s sleepin’ in our soul
‘Cause we need each other
We believe in one another
And I know we’re going to uncover
What’s sleepin’ in our soul
What’s sleepin’ in our soul
What’s sleepin’ in our soul
What’s sleepin’ in our soul
I have always been searching for something. All of us are seekers in some way, but I don’t know that all of us really understand that, recognize it, and live in that state of discomfort and uncertainty and anxiety while they move through this world and find themselves. I am always aware of it, though I did get sort of lost for a while when I was going through all the shit that happened after my best friend and I stopped talking in 1997. Throughout our three-year friendship he and I had many, many deep conversations about our boredom, our desire to do more with our lives. We never actually tried doing anything more—well, I wrote a lot, since I always knew that was what would eventually get me through, and I have to say that I wrote pretty much every day back then. Once he and I were no longer friends I shifted gears and became more of a party girl. I didn’t stop writing. But eventually, the nightlife took hold of my soul and the pursuit of my dreams was kind of put away for a long while. I still had those dreams, but I did not do much to achieve them. I was just L-I-V-I-N, as Wooderson in Dazed and Confused so Zenfully proclaimed.
My ex-BFF was my soul mate, I thought. Without him, what could I do with myself that would have any meaning? My new BFF was far more awesome in every way, of course, but for three years I had planned my whole existence around being best friends with the other guy for the rest of my life! Now I had to change course completely.
I hope that I can say
the things I wish I’d said
To sing my soul to sleep
and take me back to bed
You want to be alone
when we could feel alive instead
Whenever a relationship ends we think of all the things we could have said to change things, save the relationship, or get out of it sooner. I didn’t stay BFF-less for long, as the new friend I found and I had met through the other one, and we clicked right away. When the new BFF and I started hanging out it was really refreshing and relaxing. I never had to worry about what he would say or if he would just shit on one of my ideas because he didn’t want to go along with it. He was awesome! I rarely saw my ex-BFF when my new friend and I went out, so I didn’t really have to deal with any awkwardness. He did call me about a year and a half after we stopped talking, and though I was angry at first we talked for almost five hours. But I did say all the things I wished I had said before.
There are many things
that I would like to know
And there are many places
that I wish to go
But everything’s dependin’
On the way the wind may blow
Who doesn’t feel like that? I love learning. I’d stay in school forever if I didn’t have to worry about paying for it and having job. I’d love to just keep earning degree after degree after degree. I’d love to take cooking classes and art classes for fun. I’d love to travel all around the world, experiencing different cultures and foods and traditions. I’d love to learn a bunch of languages. But you need time and money to do all of these things. And I have little of either right now. I’m staying optimistic. And that’s always the lesson I get from Oasis’ music. Fuck this shit and carry on!
I have been a Beatles fan since I was 5 years old. When I was a kid I didn’t know anyone outside my family who loved them or knew anything about them. I was always really hard core in my devotion to them.
Fans of any band are eager to see, read, and hear anything about them. But there are not a lot of performers who have such universal appeal as The Beatles. I doubt that in 50 years anyone will be lined up outside a standing room only showing of a documentary about the secretary for One Direction. At the 2013 Cleveland International Film Festival, however, there were massive crowds waiting to get in to see Good Ol’ Freda, an excellent and fascinating documentary about Freda Kelly, the woman we never heard about until now who worked for The Beatles throughout their career. Everyone wanted to see the movie and have a chance to see the woman herself, for Freda was gracious enough to attend and participate in a Q&A afterward. She had done the same the previous night at the Cedar Lee Theater on Cleveland’s east side, again to an anxious and excited crowd of fans.
Good Ol’ Freda is amazing, truly. It’s the story of the luckiest Beatles fan in the world. It’s exceptionally well put together and interesting, even if you’re not a huge Beatles fan. As I watched it I kept wondering why we had never heard of this woman before. Freda started out volunteering for—and then running—the Beatles fan club. She was a teenager from Liverpool and went to all their gigs, and they became friends. Eventually, Brian Epstein asked her to work for him, so she not only ran the fan club but she handed The Beatles their paychecks. (I am trying to find a way to do this with Foo Fighters…)
Freda is a very humble lady, and she never wanted to cash in on her friendship with the Fab Four. She even gave away most of her Beatles stuff to fans a few years after they broke up! She thought they should be the ones to have it. There are some scenes in Good Ol’ Freda where she’s in her attic going through the one or two boxes of Beatles stuff she saved. Can you imagine? That’s all she has left, aside from the memories. Her daughter barely knew about Freda’s incredible past. How could a person keep all that to themselves?
I respect her for doing that, of course. She doesn’t think it would be right to dish the dirt on her friends. But even if she just wrote a book about her everyday life in the office, Beatles fans would eat it up! You don’t need to tell us any scandal, Freda. Just tell us what it was like to be in the middle (but out of the spotlight) of all that. Freda still works as a secretary. I would have signed a book deal by now so I could retire!
After the movie was over director Ryan White took the mike to start the Q&A. He first thanked some of the people who helped with the film, and he asked them to come up to the front of the room. Everyone sitting to the right of me stood up, including Freda! Holy crap! They had been sitting in our row the whole time. It was pretty cool.
Freda said a few words, and seemed overwhelmed by all the attention she received that night. A lady in the audience, who was probably Freda’s age, became very emotional as she told Freda how much The Beatles meant to her when she was growing up. After the Q&A was over, Freda went over to talk to her. How sweet! The friend who got me into the screening asked if I wanted to talk to her. I said I would have no idea what to say. Besides, there were a million people waiting to talk to her. We were seeing another film in the same theatre shortly after Good Ol’ Freda was over, so I told my friend that if Freda were still around when I came out of the bathroom that I would say hello to her.
Good Ol’ Freda and me at the 2013 Cleveland International Film Festival
Well, there she was, outside the theatre, talking to reporters and fans. She was about to walk away when I tapped her on the shoulder and asked if I could get a quick picture. She kindly agreed, putting her arm around me to pose. I leaned in and told her that I’m only 40, but I grew up listening to The Beatles, too. She enjoyed that. Freda was a lovely lady, and the closest I’ll ever get to meeting a Beatle! Definitely one of the highlights of my life.
Run to see Good Ol’ Freda if you can! It will make you happy. And maybe you’ll meet Freda, too.
Like most people born after Woodstock, I first became aware of Richie Havens from the Woodstock movie. He was different from most of the other performers because he was completely acoustic, his gravelly and aching voice providing the perfect accompaniment to the quick movements of his fingers on that guitar. I always thought his performance was more serious, more powerful than the others included in the original documentary.
The first time I saw Woodstock I was probably ten years old, and though I was quite an accomplished scholar of rock and roll by then I didn’t know some of the musicians. Never heard of Canned Heat, though I found their dirty blues fascinating. Country Joe McDonald who? But I totally loved “I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ To Die Rag.” Ten Years After were a mystery to me, but they were brilliant. I’m not sure I had ever heard of Santana at that point, but they blew me away. And I definitely didn’t know Richie Havens. But I was very impressed with his voice. “Handsome Johnny” was my favorite song of his.
So much soul, so much passion, so much realness in his voice. Nobody will ever sound like him. Nobody will ever be able to make you feel the words like he did. His version of “Strawberry Fields Forever” sounds like he wrote it. It’s a totally different song. Very few artists can achieve that. And very few artists can sing The Beatles except The Beatles.
There are almost no true musical artists these days. Richie was one of the last of The Greatest Generation of musical geniuses. That era will never be duplicated, nor will any future group of performers ever come close to bringing that much talent to the masses.
The Beatles were one of the few bands I listened to as a very young child that I could recognize by seeing them. Most of my mom’s 45s didn’t have sleeves, so I had no idea what anyone looked like. Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and Jerry Lee Lewis were all mysteries to me as far as appearance, but I sure did love their music! The “Love Me Do” record I had didn’t have a sleeve, but most of my mom’s other Beatles records did, so I could see who they were. But I don’t think I knew they were British until I started reading about them when I was 7, because to me they sounded American.
This is the first Beatles song I loved. I played my mom’s old 45s when I got my first record player when I was 5 years old, and this is the first Beatles song that really made an impression. It’s incredibly catchy and fun and the words are easy to remember, but that doesn’t make it any less brilliant. It’s an excellent pop song.
Love, love me do
You know I love you
I’ll always be true
So please love me do
Chuck Berry was my first favorite rock and roller, but The Beatles were my first favorite rock and roll band. And if you know anything about rock history, there would be no Beatles—indeed, no modern American music, period—without Chuck Berry. As I listened to The Beatles more and more I discovered how deep his influence went. I also came to realize how much Buddy Holly inspired them. “Love Me Do” is definitely more Buddy than Chuck. I can totally hear Buddy singing this song as if he wrote it.
So I guess you could say that The Beatles were the band that showed me how to interpret your influences as an artist. I’m a writer, and I know how much I used to imitate Dorothy Parker and Jack Kerouac. Some of it was deliberate, some more organic. That’s how we find our own style. Well, hopefully we find our own style. Some people spend their careers copying others. The Beatles had their own sound that was created by way of their love for early American rock and roll and what was popular in Liverpool back in the day. And their sound evolved from the poppiness of “Love Me Do” and “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” to more obviously complex songs like “Norwegian Wood” and “Eleanor Rigby.” Whenever I hear people say they don’t like The Beatles, well, first I try to not punch them in the throat. Once I collect myself and ask why, they usually say they just don’t like the music. There’s no real reason they don’t like it, they just say they don’t. It does not make sense. They created many different sounds throughout their career, so I find it hard to believe that anyone younger than I am (40 years old) has heard so much of The Beatles that they can make an educated statement about not liking any of their music. And I still want to punch them in the throat.
The Beatles changed everything, and even the haters agree. Nothing has been the same since The Beatles invaded America. I know I would not be who I am without them. They are one of the most important influences on my life, not just musically, but overall. Thank God for The Beatles!
I’m not trying to be Debbie Downer with this post, but it’ll probably come across as a little depressing. “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is at once sad and inspirational, because you do get what you need sometimes, even if what you want (or what you think you want) eludes you. I’m learning this, and it fucking sucks.
Nobody understands this concept when they’re kids, and most of us don’t even understand it until we’re at least in our thirties or forties. I always loved this song when I was a kid. It’s fun to sing along with, and the choir is a cool addition to a great rock and roll song. The lyrics are fascinating, and like a few other Stones songs I didn’t really get what was happening when I heard them in my childhood. Now I know that they’re about protests, drugs, and violence, very adult stuff. But on a deeper level, what the Stones are telling us is that we have to look beyond the disappointment of not getting everything we want and find what is really important, because that’s usually what’s left. Most people don’t appreciate that.
I’m turning forty this year, so this message is really in my face right now. Like many if not most people approaching such a milestone, I am reflecting on my life and wondering what I could have done differently. Where did it all go wrong? I ask myself. Over the past five years of sobriety and analysis and epiphanies, I can pretty much pinpoint where it all went wrong. But that’s not even important anymore. What do I have that is working right now? is what I should ask. There are many things that work. But the things that are not working are overwhelming.
On that note, let’s just talk for a bit about this fucking beautiful song! Everything is working here. I’ve heard it described as The Rolling Stones version of “Let It Be,” and I can appreciate that. It’s huge in every way. It makes you feel reflective, grateful for what you have. This is a weird sort of feel-good song from the Stones. Brian Jones died a few months before Let It Bleed was released, and it’s the last album he played on. Altamont happened within days of the album’s debut. The 60s were almost over, and a lot of people were weary and frustrated with war and racism and drugs. Shit was too real, and a lot of people all over the world were just done.
The lyrics reflect that sort of fuck-this-shit attitude, but with a silver lining. There’s not much to really analyze in the lyrics, because they’re pretty straight forward. Mick does his Mick thang, and he puts that shit out there in a way that leaves no doubt that you’ll get what you need if you just look for it. It’s never on the surface, especially when you have tears in your eyes that are clouding your perception of what’s real and important.
What’s real and important, what is always there no matter what, is music. That’s what I need. Family, friends, and music. Enough money to pay my bills would be great, too. But I’ll have to settle for that other stuff for now.
I used to work in the Coventry neighborhood of Cleveland Heights, Ohio. Back in the day it was the Haight-Ashbury of Greater Cleveland, and when I worked there from 2003-2005 there was still a hippy vibe. Hipsters and snobby people from the surrounding cities were slowly invading Coventry, but it still had a groovy, chill atmosphere. The businesses in Coventry supported each other, the people who lived in and around the neighborhood were happy to stay put; Coventry is not far from downtown Cleveland, yet it’s not near any freeways that make it easily accessible. I think the people who live and play in Coventry like it that way.
When I was first hired at High Tide Rock Bottom, one of the anchor stores that made Coventry Coventry, I was put in charge of the t-shirts. We ordered from a few companies and usually got the exact same styles in the exact same sizes. In addition to the 150+ Dragonball shirts that were collecting dust in the upstairs storage area, we sold black shirts with funny sayings on them, Beatles shirts, and Bob Marley shirts. For a while I reordered the shirts as instructed, but when I started browsing through catalogues I saw potential for some other stuff that I knew would sell really well. As much as I fucking hate retail, I am exceptionally good at picking items to carry, and I’m awesome at merchandising them. (Eventually, I was the buyer/merchandiser for 75% of the store’s inventory.) I ordered a few extra things just to see how they would sell. I probably didn’t ask the owner if that would be okay, because I like to just do things, prove that I am good at them, and then say, “I hope you don’t mind that I did that.”
The stuff I ordered sold really well. So I reordered it and ordered a few more new things. Zion Rootswear, the official merchandisers of Bob Marley stuff, quickly became my favorite place to order from. After ordering from them (and a few other companies) for a while they started to include women’s sizes, which was very exciting for me. A lot of our customers were young women, and catering to them was important to me. I also did not want to wear men’s shirts, so I was eager to find cool t-shirts that actually fit my shape.
I always knew about Bob Marley, of course, but didn’t know much about him or about reggae in general. The punk rock episode of the 1990s PBS documentary series about rock and roll discussed the influence of reggae on punk bands, and that sparked my curiosity. I’m not sure when I first bought the Bob Marley & The Wailers Reggae Fever compilation, but I believe it was sometime in the 90s. I definitely bought it before Exodus. I have listened to both of them many, many times. As I listen to Exodus right now, it makes me want to learn more about Bob and reggae and Jamaican history. But what it’s doing more immediately is reminding me of Coventry and the fun I had working there.
A friend of mine who was also a barback in the bar I called home had worked at High Tide for about 20 years, and one night he mentioned that they were looking for help. I was working at the new Cheesecake Factory at the time, and I fucking hated it. I was also trying to avoid going bankrupt, so I needed to work as much as possible. I’d only been to Coventry once or twice before working there, but I felt right at home immediately. All the guys who worked there were gay, so that was awesome for me. Then there was a chick who also worked as a body piercer at a nearby studio, plus an older lady who had been there for about 8 years. The owner was a cool, tiny Jewish lady whom we all adored. She trusted each of us with a piece of the store, and it was a great time every day.
I loved the diversity of the neighborhood. Working at The Cheese was my first experience working away from the bland outer ring suburb I grew up in, and I was so glad to see black people, Latinos, and Jews! I have always been a hippy at heart, and it was awesome to finally get to interact with so many different people. Coventry was even more diverse, and I loved everything about it. Buddhists and atheists and communists, oh my!
There was a really nice family who came in regularly, and they had a ridiculously adorable and personable little girl named Alex. She would sometimes come in with her nanny, sometimes with her parents. She was very attached to the older lady who did the jewelry, perhaps because she reminded her of her nanny. When she quit, she started talking to me more often, and we were like best friends! She was about 5 years old. We would talk about all kinds of stuff, and her nanny and mom told me she talked about me at home. One day they came in and bought her one of the kid’s Bob Marley shirts. She told me that she loved music, and mentioned Bob Marley and Green Day. I asked her to sing me a Bob Marley song, and she proceeded to go through “No Woman No Cry” like it was a nursery rhyme. Wow.
I told Alex that I had the same Bob Marley shirt at home, and that I would wear it next time they came in. So the next week, here comes Alex with her tan Bob Marley shirt, and we were like twins! Her mom took our picture, and Alex had the picture in a frame on her nightstand. Mom told me that Alex would make up songs about me and talk about me a lot. I don’t know why she was so attached to me, but it was pretty cool. That little girl gave me something to feel happy about.
A lot of things remind me of working in Coventry, but Bob Marley is one of the most significant. I was happy to give the people what they wanted as far as t-shirts and other merchandise. I loved seeing people flip through the shirts I ordered. It’s good to know you’re good at something, even though it is not exactly changing the world. But if buying a new Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, or James Brown t-shirt made your world a little brighter, I’m glad. If a little girl can bond with some people at a gift shop, if she can serenade them with a reggae song, if she can make them smile, that’s a beautiful thing. If nothing else in your life is going the way you want it to, but you know you’re successful at one small thing, sometimes that’s enough to get you out of bed.
Bob Marley’s music brings people together. It is at once political and peaceful and joyful. Alex knew nothing of the politics of Jamaica. She felt the music. She responded. Bob Marley is a symbol for a lot of things: Jamaica, Rastafarianism, weed, reggae, protest. If you don’t know any reggae artists but Bob sometimes people think you’re a poseur, but at least he got you to notice the music. I’m an authority on rock and roll, not reggae. I definitely hear the reggae influence on rock and pop music post-Marley. I want to learn more. That’s what Bob Marley has given to me.
The first music I remember hearing was Chuck Berry. I had no idea what he looked like, as my Mom’s 45s had no sleeves, and I had never seen him on TV. All I had was his incredible music, but that was enough for me. That also goes for Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and a few others from the 50s and 60s. I knew what Elvis, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and The Who looked like, but I had never seen them perform; it was all about the music.
I was born in the 1970s, but I have always considered those artists just as much mine as my parents’. At the same time, I am part of the MTV generation, so videos were an awesome new way to watch our favorite performers. I was very much an 80s girl, even though I never stopped loving the bands that came before. For those of us in my generation, the music we had will always be linked to music videos. Yes, MTV helped kill popular music, at least, it deformed it into the hot, stinking pile of mess that it is today. But those videos we loved and memorized and emulated were so fresh and fascinating and necessary to us, and I am grateful for them.
ZZ Top were around for many years before MTV. Their sound in the 70s was heavier and bluesier, and though they evolved a little in the 80s they kept hold of their roots. But the raunchy lyrics they were so very good at were perfect for the children of MTV! And they did make some fucking great videos. “Legs” was always my favorite, though I look at it now as sending the wrong message. Still, I lerve the slutty 80s fashions it so prominently features!
The Eliminator girls
I recently watched a LOGO documentary about GLOW, the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. I hadn’t thought about that show in years! My sisters and I watched it every week, and it really was great fun to remember all that awesomeness. Two of my favorite characters were Hollywood and Vine, because they were bad girls who wore slutty clothes and stole stuff from the audience as they walked to the wrestling ring. YES!!! As I watch the “Legs” video again, I am reminded of how much I loved the slutty clothes the girls wear. I was only in 6th grade when this video came out, but I was deep into my Madonna phase then so I wanted to provoke people. Naturally, my parents would never allow me to wear garter belts, leather skirts, or cropped, off-shoulder shirts to school. But in my fantasies, those were my everyday clothes!
My favorite outfit!
The “Legs” video tells the story of Plain Jane who works at a shoe store for a bitch and an asshole. She goes to pick up the bitch’s lunch at a burger place, but the bikers and other bad news bears who hang out there are hassling her at every step she takes. But the cook, who is also bullied by his asshole coworkers, has a boner for Plain Jane. He rushes over to the counter to try to take her order, but the scroungy fucks he works with push him out of the way. When she’s finally handed the bag with her boss’s food in it, she accidentally leaves behind her glasses. While running through the parking lot and trying to avoid further harassment, a piece of cake on a plate flies out of her bag and lands on the ground, the cake still securely attached to the plate as it rests on the concrete. Impressive.
Her Prince Charming notices a coworker playing with Plain Jane’s librarianesque glasses and runs after her. (This is the scene where we see those awesome furry guitars that spin! What the hell was that? we all asked each other in 1984.) In the meantime, her boss notices the missing cake and scolds her, while the asshole she works with is flirting with a leather pants-clad cougar who is trying on shoes; he proceeds to step on her hand as Plain Jane assists him. She goes to the stock room to find a pair of shoes, and in runs Prince Charming, hoping that returning her glasses will lead to some sexy fun time. He throws the cake at the boss, who digs in right away, and then he finds Plain Jane provocatively standing on a ladder in the back room. They make eyes at each other once he returns her glasses, but what he was hoping would turn into a porno makeout session is interrupted by the boss lady. He’s thrown out of the store, only to be rescued by the Eliminator girls who pull up in the famous red ZZ Top hot rod, a sweet-ass chopped 1933 Ford.
And here’s where the real fun begins. These bad ass babes strut their barely-clothed asses into Yolanda’s Shoe Salon and fuck shit up! ZZ Top are there for some reason, and they present Plain Jane with the keys to the Eliminator, which seems to be the exact vehicle she needs to get in touch with her inner skank. After putting Yolanda and the other asshole in their places, the Eliminator girls abscond with Plain Jane and start to work their magic on her. So here’s where the problem is for me as I deconstruct this all these years later: Prince Charming already likes Plain Jane, so there’s no reason to tart her up to get his attention. In so many movies, not just from the 80s but from every decade (Grease, for one), girls are transformed from frumpy to streetwalker to attract the guy they want. The Eliminator girls take Plain Jane to the hair salon and then clothes shopping, where she tries on a variety of scandalous outfits. The one she winds up wearing actually isn’t terribly whoreish, but it is very short. And she wears the little white fold-down socks with pantyhose and pumps. Very 80s. I never liked the outfit, because I was never a girly girl. I was more hard core in my 11-year-old taste, and preferred the 1984 version of slut perfectly portrayed by these would-be coke-dealer-girlfriends-cum-Mary-Poppins in the video. I loved those fierce white boots, the leather jacket, and the fishnets they wore! Oh, how I longed to be so sexy!
Once Plain Jane changes her outfit and hair and makeup, of course, her confidence soars. She adopts the slut strut of the Eliminator girls and walks her ass right back to the shoe shop where they are now kissing her ass, and then she makes her way to the burger joint. She flirts with all those scumbags who harassed her before, she pushes them around, and she makes the other women jealous. Then Prince Charming sees her, jumps over the counter on which she is sitting, and helps her down. You can see they are in love! He doesn’t seem to notice her new look, I suspect because he already wanted to put it in her. They hop into the back of someone’s dune buggy and ride off into the sunset.
The End.
As sexist as this video might seem today, I loved it and wanted to be in it! I try to look at everything in context, but there’s no getting around the message that women can use their looks to feel confident and get what they want. I’m not saying there’s no truth to that, because I know that I started feeling a lot more confident about myself in general when I started liking my appearance (though it was gay men who first told me I was attractive and funny, not straight guys). But relying on your looks is a problem. You need more than that to get through life.
That said, I fucking love this video, and will always have special place in my heart for those Eliminator girls for rocking the 80s fashion and inspiring me to be a slutty, confident woman!
“The Humpty Dance” grabs you right in the biscuits from the first booty-shaking note! I wasn’t interested in hip hop back when this song came out, though I secretly thought some of the songs were catchy and fun. I loved MC Hammer and a few Run DMC songs, but that was about it. In 1990 there was a lot of controversy in hip hop with 2 Live Crew and shit like that, so I didn’t listen to most of it. It wasn’t until many years later that I could admit that I liked “The Humpty Dance.”
It’s just a straight up party song. Not every song has to change the world. And this doesn’t change anything, though Humpty isn’t the image and the style that you’re used to. But he gets laid by the ladies and wants to tell us all about it! Here are some important facts about our hero Humpty:
His name is pronounced with a “umpty”
He’s the new fool in town
He’s sick with this
In the 69 his nose will tickle your rear
He likes his oatmeal lumpy
He once got busy in a Burger King bathroom
Obviously, he likes to write
Need more? They say he’s ugly, but it just does not phase him one bit. What an inspiration! He is skinny, he has a big nose, and he loves to show the world how to do the Humpty Hump. First, you limp to the side like your leg was broken, shakin’ and twitchin’, kinda like you were smokin’. Crazy, wack, funky! He looks like MC Hammer on crack, but—well, he’ll tell you the rest.
I added this song to my workout mix a few years ago, and it really is an awesome way to get you all up in your workout. Except you get that pimp limp when walking the track. So be careful. Your fellow gym bunnies may not appreciate you slowing down while they power walk the mile with those 2-pound weights.
And I love that Humpty gives a shout-out to the whole world, including black people, white people, Puerto Ricans, and Samoans. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this may the only Top 20 song to ever name-check Samoans. Thank you, Humpty, for encouraging such diversity. It’s all about building bridges.
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