Music

Ruth and I went to a concert a few days ago.  It was a dual tribute to Bette Midler and Billy Joel.  I like their music, especially Billy’s, so I bought tickets as a part of Ruth’s birthday extravaganza.  Like always, I sang along to most of the songs, doing my best to keep it low enough that I didn’t bother the other patrons.

The guy who sang Billy Joel told stories about the origin of many of the songs.  Several were written for the women in his life.  That made a lot of sense to me and helped bring context to the lyrics. Just the Way You Are was written for his first wife, and after their divorce, he didn’t sing it for a few years.

As I listened to the songs, I flashed back to what I was doing when they were first released.  I was a young man, starting a family, and beginning my career.  That reminiscing brought other songs to mind.

I danced with my first loves to Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on My Shoulder and Puppy Love when I was in junior high.  Bobby Goldsboro’s See the Funny Little Clown brings back memories of a high school breakup that led to even better things. Gloria by Van       Morrison and Them was the first song I danced to in “a club”.  It was the most suggestive song I had ever heard. When I danced to it, I thought I was really something.

Songs in college were even more impactful.  Singers protested the Vietnam war nearly as often as they sang a love song. I celebrated all things associated with Motown and Boogaloo’d and Shingaling’d all through college.  Herb Alpert’s This Guy’s In Love was my “slow dance” anthem.

The music and lyrics of the day, help capture the feeling of the times, especially for young people.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that I don’t enjoy some of the current music.  I’m not a fan of rap, or hip hop, and was never into “hard rock”.  I remember listening to a radio station in the late  fifties that was discussing the rise of rock and roll.  The announcer said, “One day rock and roll will fade just like the music of the roaring twenties and the big band era.”  I thought he was crazy.  Times change and so does music.

My measuring stick for “good” music is simple.  If I can dance to it, or sing to it, I like it.  And if I know the words after decades have passed, it’s a classic.  Like this…