Song Challenge Day 7: A Song to Drive to

For all five of you that are following this silly thing of mine, it's day 7 of the song challenge, and the prompt today is, "A Song to Drive to."

This is another fairly easy one. For your listening and driving pleasure: 

You're welcome.

Ok so this was the first song I heard by ZZ Ward and I fell in love with the blues-rock hybrid sound of it, and then I listened to the rest of her stuff (this was not too long after her first album dropped, so eight years ago, give or take a few months). Oof, does this woman know how to wail and NOT sound like a dying chicken! If this song interests you at all, I implore you to look her up on Spotify or Apple Music or Prime Music or whatever the Hell else it is you use to listen to music. She's mega-talented and deserves way more attention, and it's a shame she's still somewhat obscure. Her second album is also a gem, and her mixtape Eleven Roses with her own versions of songs by other artists like Kendrick Lamar is just... 

Anyway, so "Move Like You Stole It" is a damn fun song. It's sexy, it's tough, it's assertive, it's bold. It's catchy! And that hint of gravel in her voice could easily sound like a cold in less-skilled hands, but she utilizes it just enough to give her singing an extra bit of depth without sounding gimmicky or ill.

One thing that I appreciated about this song was it's a woman singing about sexual desire and the things she'd do to her partner- it's a lot harder to find women singing about sex than men. You get your "Red Light Special"s and "2 Become 1"s every now and again, but pretty much every genre has a sub-genre focused on tropes revolving around the exploitation, objectification, and/or dehumanization of women. So I adore the following, and will sing its praises until the day I die, because of the message it's sending:

I'm not saying women should thus be exploiting dudes left and right (although the dudes in Maddie and Tae's video are pretty fucking hilarious- but it's SATIRE, so it's not the same thing) (and I should note, Bo Burnham even hints at the treatment of women in stadium country music with his generic "A good girl" line in his satirical country song). But Women just rarely sing about sex, arousal, or desire.

So Ward's overt passes and statements are refreshing. She may be singing about driving, but she's really singing about something else. You go, girl. 

But for real, overall, this song is a toe-tapper for sure, and I legit have to be careful not to start speeding when it pops up on the mix CDs I keep in my car (because sometimes I do tire of channel surfing*). Listen to it, relish it.

And look up the rest of ZZ Ward's music. You will not be disappointed.

*Again, sorry Beaux.

Song Challenge 6: A Song That Makes You Want to Dance

I'm pretty excited for this one. Day 6 in the song challenge is "A song that makes you want to dance."

I didn't have to think much about this one. Even though I can't dance at all, I still know what I wish I could dance to, and right now, the main one is this:

I know the official video has that moment where it gets a little distorted, so if for some reason you've never heard this song before (WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN), here's The Weeknd's official audio version, completely intact.

I've thoroughly enjoyed all of The Weeknd's previous albums, and his latest, After Hours, absolutely does not disappoint. It came out right after I got stuck at home, and I listened to it on repeat for a week straight while my boyfriend was at work (he still has a job, huzzah!), and with headphones when he was home. I think it's his best work so far, and from what I've seen online, I guess actual, paid critics agree. 

Whenever this song comes on the radio (or I find it when channel surfing- I am a terrible channel surfer*), I crank it up and start bobbing around in the driver's seat the way Tesfaye does partway through the video. I can't help it. If I'm at a red light, I start slapping** my thigh to the beat; if I'm not, it's the wheel. 

The layers in this song are intoxicating. The synth hook is the kind of earworm I'm totally ok with having around. The simple but heavy beat begs for some sort of physical reaction (a tap, a nod, something). Tesfaye's voice is as smooth and sexy as ever. I don't even mind the "HEY!"-ing, something I often find a little annoying in songs- it somehow fits here, perhaps because of the excitement this song just kind of engenders. It all adds up to another song that, as the kids say, "slaps."

In other words, this is a fucking good song. And it not only makes me want to dance, it makes me wish I even could. 

One last thing: Honorable Mention goes to the remix of Mike Posner's "I Took a Pill in Ibiza." Both are great, in very different ways, and the remix just hits you in the face once the first chorus ends and it's like DAY-um. I'm just sad they cut the last verse from the remix, but still, it's one of the few club/dance remixes I even tolerate, let alone absolutely adore.

*I'm sorry, Beaux.

**Maybe that's where the "slap" thing came from when it comes to describing good songs?

Song Challenge Day 5: A Song That Needs to be Played Loud

It's time for day 5, "A song that needs to be played loud." 

I'll be honest, there are a lot of songs I crank the volume up for, but I think I need to go with this one: 

Yes, I know that's the cleaned-up version, so here's the original. 

Ok. So.

I know, I'm pretty white. I'm in no way saying I'm a "g" or anything like that. I know I am entirely removed from every single thing Fiddy is rapping about, here, and I have no intention of ever setting foot in a "club" for the rest of my life.

But.

Come on.

This song absolutely SLAPS, as the kids say, seventeen years after its release. Seriously, what dance/party playlist would be complete without this song, even nowadays? That's right, none. 

That hook, that beat. You know you love it.

Having never been to "da club" before, I still assert this is one of the best club songs ever.

Change my mind.

Keep tapping your toes and nodding your head.

Song Challenge Day 4: A Song That Reminds You of Someone You'd Rather Forget

Time for Day 4 of the Song Challenge, "A song that reminds you of someone you'd rather forget."

I'm going with this one:

If you've been following this blog for a while, or know me in person, you know who this song is about- I wrote about our breakup before.

Gomez sings about a man who started out wonderful, but whose narcissism took over her world, whose behavior trained her to put his needs before hers at all times. A man who had a somewhat carnal need to cause her pain, who would sabotage things she cared about simply because she cared about them. A man that kept holding her back and tearing her down.

And she sings about herself, a woman who tried. A woman whose idealism kept her hanging on, only causing her more pain. But who eventually lets go and realizes she's none of the things he made her think. That she's worth more.

Funny enough, the only part that's off is the, "In two months you replaced us," bit- in actuality, I found someone new in about two months, and he's the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

I left that ex out of self-preservation. But getting away from his toxicity has helped me gain a new perspective about myself, and started me on a journey with more self-love than I've ever felt for myself before. I still struggle with my self-image, but knowing I did my best but still made the best choice I could, helps me lean in a positive direction. 

Still, I don't really like thinking of him, if for no other reason than I've moved on and am in an astronomically better relationship, and dwelling on my abuser can lead to some pretty low lows. Thinking of him frequently takes me to dark places, so I try not to.  

Day 3: A Song That Reminds You of Summer

Time for Day 3, "A song that reminds you of summer."

Y'all are probably going to make fun of me, but this song makes me think of summer when I hear it:

While it gained a resurgence in popularity thanks to and is mostly associated with the film Shrek, the music video features clips from the criminally underrated/under-appreciated Mystery Men, in which it featured heavily, and is meant to imply the band is interacting with the film's stars. 

This song came out relatively close to when summer vacation starts for kids. At home, while my mom was running errands or taking my siblings to specialists, I'd put VH1 on in the background as I did chores, and this song must have played every gorram hour that summer following its release. It completely dominated my summer vacation. 

And the video itself, with its bright lighting and primary colors, invokes summer.

Honestly, I don't have a whole lot more to say about it. It's still a good song, despite what haters say, and the memes that center around it are just delightful (this is one of my favorites, being somewhat of a music snob)- and the band is cool with them, even!

Really, I think the people ragging on "All Star" just hate happiness.

Song Challenge Day 2: A Song With a Number in the Title

Time for Day 2: "A song you like with a number in the title."

Easy pick, this one was:

I first heard this song in the movie Fly Away Home, of all places. I loved that movie- I watched it every time it was on TV. I even bought a copy of it when I was in college, although somewhere along the way it got lost.

A year after the movie came out (so in 1997), my grandmother passed away from lung cancer. It wasn't a long, drawn-out battle, either- she was diagnosed in October and passed a few days after my birthday in March. (Happy birthday to me, right? Some sort of fucked up cosmic joke, and to this day, it's a reason I'm often reluctant to give a shit about making it another year.) It was sudden, nigh traumatic- in the blink of an eye, she went from teaching me about the pork and beans plant to herself being a vegetable, and then...

Losing her was the beginning of the lifetime of hardship I've endured. While I've had some brief moments of respite, it continues to be difficult, and beyond your everyday annoyances- deaths, suicides, abuse, couch surfing, health scares of my own (most of it I haven't even bothered to bring up here)- yadda, yadda, yadda. There is a reason I call this blog American Dramady, after all. In my lowest moments, I lament how life won't give me a fucking break. I try to come out swinging, and do my best to laugh, but it can be difficult. So sometimes I find irrational things from which to draw strength when I can.

The singer is saying goodbye to someone they love dearly. But saying they won't be gone forever. Maybe it's entirely psychosomatic, but I think I created this unspoken promise from her- the promise that she'd still be there, here, present. So I almost immediately related this song to my grandma once she was gone. And to this day, whenever I play it, I can feel her fingers scratching my scalp to comfort me (it was literally the only thing that could calm me down when I was little). I can smell her perfume. I can hear her laugh. I can hear her do that thing where she starts saying one of my siblings' names and switches to mine halfway through, something that never ceased to make me giggle. I see her working in the garden, the flowers we planted together, the butterfly she once got to land on her finger. I can smell her cooking, and I think of corned beef hash and scrambled eggs, of vanilla ice cream topped with canned peaches (I can't eat those combinations, to this day).

And I know she's there. And somehow, it's not that cheesy, "You'll be in my heart, always," kind of way. It feels tangible, again, however irrational it may be. And even though I often start sobbing (like I am now, 'natch!), it's cleansing. Grandma never told me not to cry- she didn't like seeing me sad or in pain, but she never told me to "stop crying." She knew me enough to know that if I was crying, it was because I needed it. I'd do that thing little kids do where their breath starts to heave as they're blubbering, and she'd curl me up in her arms and say it's ok, let it out, as she stroked my head, and I knew I was safe. And I'd feel better a lot faster when she did that. The release when I play "10000 Miles" is the same.

The soothing mood of the song is a lot like her presence. I think that had a lot to do with why I assigned this song to her memory. I only ever saw her angry once, and it had nothing to do with me- other than that, she was just this calm, steady, constant presence.

Until she wasn't.

And the hint of sadness weaved throughout this song echoes the pain I still feel at her loss. Twenty-three years later, and it still feels fresh. Her death cut too deep for any song I equate with her to be cheerful- I can't force myself to laugh over losing her. I can laugh when recalling specific moments, but that's not the same thing.

I know I'm high-strung/emotional/whatever. And yeah, I'm sentimental a-eff. There are much less healthy coping mechanisms, though, right? 

So even though it may appear this song makes me sad, it actually gives me comfort and strength. And even as I wipe away tears, I feel better. I don't listen to it often, deliberately- it's kind of like a trump card for me, along with watching The Last Unicorn, something I save for when things are really hard so as not to dilute its effectiveness. And I think it's no coincidence that the same grandma that is the basis for The Last Unicorn being a source of comfort is the one I'm talking about here, as well.

It's hard for me to find sanctuary. In this song, I do. 

I promise, tomorrow's won't be as sad. ;p

Song Challenge Day 1: A Song with a Color in the Title

So because of this pandemic, I've been home for over a month at this point. I've been trying to find different ways to occupy myself so as to not go stir-crazy or get too depressed, so I thought I would take this song challenge thing a friend on Facebook is doing and expand on it a little each day here. 

I know I'm starting in the middle of the month, so I'll just do all 31. Not that anyone will really care all that much, but it will be something for me to do aside from watching TV (I'm currently in season 3 of Star Trek: Voyager) or playing video games (Bloodborne and the Resi 3 remake, a topic about which I hope to rant at some point soon, too, if I can just figure out how to say what I want).

So, day 1 is "A song with a color in the title." Here's my choice:

I think the meaning behind this song often gets lost in the upbeat tempo and catchy hooks- but when you listen to the lyrics, it's not just about missing someone or something you took for granted. It's about conservation and enviornmentalism. 

"Hey farmer, farmer/ Put away the DDT now/ Give me spots on my apples/ But leave me the birds and the bees/ Please."

You can be kind of snarky about it and say she's singing about sex, and I'm sure she deliberately chose that lyric in order to facilitate multiple meanings. But a different interpretation is she's telling a farmer to quit using pesticides on apples so it doesn't destroy the environment.

This song is fifty years old. And how are we doing?

Welp.

-We have ten years before the entire global ecosystem collapses, with losses of coasts and islands due to sea levels rising as a result of ice caps melting, all coral reefs dying, water scarcity, crop failures...

-Oh, those ice caps are likely to so depleted that there will be no ice during summer seasons within thirty years. 

-Most of the ecosystems in our oceans my collapse within this decade. 

-And we're totally not prepared for what could happen if we don't improve our policies and repair the damage, since we aren't doing enough to stave off catastrophe.

It's a damned shame.

Now I know anybody interested in reading what I have to say is already on board with this, but it's just infuriating because my generation and those after me are inheriting this almost literal trash fire from our parents and grandparents- and they're fine with it! They'll be dead, so they don't give a shit.

I know I could do better- I could probably use less water when doing dishes, taking showers,etc., but there's still the fact that one person's contribution is negligible when compared to the biggest polluting companies in the world- so much so that the top eight produce more pollution than that caused by every person in the U.S. combined. 

But the raw molecules are only part of the story. Between the narrative sold to us by consumerism and society, and the increasing neoliberalism rampant in our political structures (the emphasis on the individual), we're stuck in a system where we think we have choices, but we don't, and we think our choices will make a difference, but their impact will only be marginal at best (assuming everyone makes the right ones together).

But this is a lie.

In truth, these companies have known as early as five years before Joni Mitchell wrote "Big Yellow Taxi" that they would destroy the environment. And instead of changing course, turning themselves into renewable sources of energy, they doubled down and bought government leaders- Congresspeople, governors, mayors, presidents. They secure funding and tax breaks, they block policies that would go so far as to require them to (literally) clean up their act even just a fraction of a percent a year. They fund erroneous research via "thinktanks" they front, all the while putting forth a false pretense of being "clean" and "caring" about our environment and the world in which we live. Current marketing campaigns with sweeping shots of solar panels and an exaggerated presentation of their "push" for alternative energy like the video on this page abound.

Interestingly, in that video, they emphasize how they've spent $16.5B on this research since 2000. But, given the lowest their annual revenue has been since then was $205.251B, one would think that if they really cared as much as they did, they would be spending a lot more on alternatives and efficiency- as it stands, $16.5B over twenty years isn't much at all for a company that huge.

And yet, they've convinced us that we are the ones at fault, for our own daily practices. It's our fault for driving so much, let alone how their cohorts block public transit and oil companies contributed to the fall of the first wave of electric cars by GM in the '90s. It's our fault for using traditional energy, yet they make no effort to create affordable solar or wind options for anyone aside from the 1%. It's our fault for using gorram plastic straws (and plastic in general), even though the alternatives are still more expensive and sometimes don't quite cut it.

The only way things are going to improve is if fundamental shifts in how our society functions and operates occur. Mass transit needs to become the primary means of transportation in every community. Renewable energy for the home needs to not only be made affordable for the middle-class, but flat-out provided to the working poor. Plastic alternatives need to be less expensive. Fossil fuel companies' current sources of revenue, i.e. fossil fuels, need to become obsolete. Tesla can't be the only company making fully electric cars.

Big changes. And we're nowhere near any of them right now.

So, "Big Yellow Taxi." Every time I hear it, whether it's the original or that ubiquitous cover by the Counting Crows and Vanessa Carleton, I tap my toes while also kind of having a slight tantrum in my head. Because fifty years ago, one of the greatest singer-songwriters of the last century warned us about what we're doing to our planet. And we haven't really listened.

We won't really know what we've got until it's gone, and by then, it will be too late.

Happy Friday?