I've written before about how repetitive it is for a bassist to play the "Peter Gunn" riff repeatedly. As Paul McCartney's closing credits performance on "Saturday Night Live" showed last night, however, that riff fits in very well with his 1980 hit, "Coming Up."
It was great to see the SNL cast and audience responding to that tune's appealing energy. I wish oldies stations would play "Coming Up" more frequently, along with "Take It Away," which is unjustly overlooked today.
Since this morning, Chicago's "Thunder And Lightning" has been on my mind. It surprises me that it never cracked the top 40 in 1980, as it's rhythmically, lyrically, and vocally solid. The horns announce their presence right away, establishing the tune's mood. The band maintains a driving energy throughout the song that serves it well, and the vocals between Peter Cetera and Robert Lamm contrast effectively.
Granted, the opening lyric, "I thought that you thought that we thought...," is phrased unusually, but it doesn't detract from the song's overall vibe.
Alas, plenty of quality songs don't get the recognition they deserve. Despite the band's multitude of hits, this is a rare time that happened to Chicago.
Although it was a hit in other countries, it puzzles me that "Carnival" by The Cardigans didn't have similar success in America. The song's intro grabs listeners by making them envision someone watching a scary movie before the power goes out and segues effectively into hook-laden, radio-friendly vocals. Starting with the chorus was a smart move, as well.
It's a shame when a song so well-crafted and well-structured falls through the cracks.
I've been working a lot of extra hours lately. While I'm pleased about the increased income that accompanies those hours, there's a hamster-on-a-wheel feeling that goes with an increased workload. Consequently, "Pulstar," an instrumental by Vangelis, has been on my mind. Its tense, race-against-time melody makes me imagine pedaling a bike increasingly quickly and facing a tight window in which to reach a destination.
That feeling is inevitable with most forms of work, I think.
Following up on yesterday's post about hearing Weird Al Yankovic's "Ricky" on KHTR, the same DJ back announced that song exactly the same way on at least two different days. Both times, as it ended, he said, "Playing all the hits and sometimes the weird ones..."
I wonder how many more times he referred to "Ricky" that way. After all, it isn't often in commercial radio that you can merge your opinion of a song with the artist's stage name.
In 1983, I heard a parody song on KHTR. When the DJ back announced it, I thought,"What did he say? 'Ricky," which spoofs Toni Basil's 'Mickey,' is by Weird Alley Ankles? That can't be right."
A few weeks later, I learned it was by Weird Al Yankovic, Alas, in pre-Internet times, before you saw a reference to an artist in a newspaper or magazine, saw it in a record store, or called a radio station and found out who it was, you had to live with your uncertainty.
I must be feeling especially idealistic because my earworm today is "Dreams Of Harmony," a lullaby by Freyda. Its lyrics paint a reassuring view of us all being part of humanity and having value. When you're about to drift off to sleep, that's a comforting image to have--even though it describes a utopia and not, unfortunately, reality.