Day 30 - Your favorite song at this time last year

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

And so we come to the end: Day 30.

The older I get, the more I think about my past. Never with regrets, but sometimes with disappointments.

I once heard that drinking and using drugs affects your memory, that it is becomes difficult to remember the past. I have not found that to be the case. i can remember detailed accounts of events that took place decades ago. Sadly, I have difficulty remembering yesterday!

I am a big fan of music and the older I get, the broader my tastes become.

If you knew me in 1977, you would find it hard to believe that in 2011 I would own quite a few Joni Mitchell albums, and almost all of The Beatles. In 1977, I scoffed at country music unless it was Johnny Cash or Bobbie Gentry. I knew nothing about opera except that I didn't like it.

I just realized that "You favorite aria" is missing from this 30-Day Challenge.

Although I listen to new music, and am exposed to the poppiest and most bubble-gummiest of all new releases thanks to a 7-year0old daughter with a television, I tend to listen to a lot of music from the past. The Music Of My Life, if you will; or, as I referred to it when my mother was my age: "The Music Of My Death"!

I have grown deeper appreciation for songs from all genres of my past: folk, disco, country, and other forms of pop. Today, I know that The Mamas & The Papas and The 5th Dimension were much more sophisticated singing groups than I realized in the late-60s and early-70s. I get it now why people like Joni Mitchell and Neil Young (and although I won many records of the former, I have not yet developed a real appreciation for the latter). I can't get enough country music to satisfy me . . .

But back to the singers. Harmonies. Harmonization.

Well, let's just cut to the chase! Grazing In The Grass, by The Friends of Distinction was my fave song last spring:

Day 29 - A song from your childhood

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

The Hitching Post had the best jukebox. Better than the jukebox at Old Colony Yacht Club; but not as good as the jukebox in the teen center at Building 24.

In 1963, my parents separated permanently. In 1965, my father was granted visitation rights on Sundays between 2:00 P.M. and 8:00 P.M. We would spend the day at my grandmother's new lace-curtain house near the Pond, in Jamaica Plain. At Christmas, 1967, my grandmother died and the Sunday visitation pick-ups ceased for a while.

In the Spring of 1968, the visits generally meant he would pick us up on McGreevey Way and drive to Brigham Circle, where on the block of 777 Huntington Avenue, right after the Farragut School, was a locksmith, a medical supply company, a stairway down to the Brigham Bowl-A-Drome, and the most magical place in the world: The Hitching Post.

We never went bowling, and the locksmith and medical supply shops were always closed on Sundays. This was Boston in the sixties and there were blue laws forbidding the transaction of business. Well, forbidding the transaction of some business, certainly not forbidding the afternoon opening of a barroom.

The Hitching Post was made-up of two rooms: the bar on the right-hand side of the entrance, with heavy drapes on the small windows to keep the room dark. A long wooden bar on the interior wall, and some booths along the opposite wall. At the end of booths was one of those bowling machines with the polished wooden tabletop along which a heavy metal disc was slid over metal sensors controlling "bowling pins" that would mechanically click up depending on the accuracy of the shot. Ten frames for a dime. I loved that machine, but it was on the barroom side and kids were not really welcome. The bar room had a tavern feel to it, and women were generally not welcome, either.

The room on the left-hand side was the lounge (which was the barroom for women and children). It had plate-glass windows looking out onto Huntington Avenue with gold colored curtains that were open to let the natural light in. There were booths along the wall shared with the bar, and a service window for the cocktail waitress to place and collect drink orders. Booths also ran along the windows, and halfway up the opposite wall from the bar, and in between them, running up the middle of the room, was a double row of booths from the front of the room, halfway to the back.

The lounge was deserted every Sunday. I don't know if it was ever used by anyone besides me and my brothers.

The booths that stopped halfway left plenty of room for the magical part of the room: a dance floor with a jukebox. Three plays for a quarter. Every genre of music was available: Patti Page, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr., Nat King Cole, Beach Boys, Young Rascals, Rolling Stones, Supremes, Louis Armstrong, Chubby Checker, Anita O'Day, and more. Along with the teenagers in the projects, this jukebox helped shape my earliest appreciation of music.

Every Sunday my siblings and I would listen to a dozen songs, while my father drank himself senseless on a quick half-dozen boiler makers, before we would make our way to his apartment in Jamaica Plain to watch sports and have a big Sunday dinner, or to some event at a relative's home.

I always chose the same song first: "I Got the Feelin'," by James Brown; the funkiest song I'd ever heard in my life, and still my favorite of all funk songs.

Day 28 - A song that makes you feel guilty

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I have encountered a lot of drugs in my life, and a lot of junkies, and dealers, and casual users, and emergency rooms.

Is there such a thing as social heroin use?

I had my way with drugs, then drugs had their way with me, and we have parted friends with a healthy respect for each other!

I like songs about drugs, but given the impact they have had on my life, and the lives of those around me, I feel guilty when art glorifies drugs.

This is one of the classic drug songs: Heroin, by The Velvet Underground:

Day 27 - A song that you wish you could play

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I'm not sure if I want to know how to play this song as much as I want to sing and perform it.

All the parts: the lead girl singer, the boy rapper, the background vocals; OK and all the instruments. And I want to be the dancer, too. And I want to make the video, and get credit for the cover art.

I love this song.

Day 26 - A song that you can play on an instrument

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

In grammar school I attended tryouts for the matching band. I had failed to get into the choir because I can't sing; but I figured that I could learn any instrument.

I wanted to play the saxophone.

All the third grade boys were lined-up outside the music room in the Guild Building and the man who directed the marching band sat inside with some current, older band members.

We entered one at a time.

I was handed a single drumstick.

"Try to copy what I do," he said.

He tapped out a short rhythm. I was unable to copy it.

He tapped out a different rhythm, and I was unable to copy that.

"I don't think you will make it as a drummer," he said. He wasn't unkind, he wasn't mean, he was just matter-of-fact.

"I don't want to play the drums," I explained.

"You don't?" He asked. "What instrument do you want to play?"

"I want to play the saxophone," I explained gleefully.

He snickered. "Did you hear that?" He asked the the musicians. "He wants to play the saxophone."

And then he laughed.

And then all the musicians laughed.

I stood there in silence, my face on fire.

He pointed to a musical instrument case standing in the corner and said, "Do you know how big a saxophone is? It's half your size. You see that? That's a saxophone. You'd never be able to play that."

They all had a good laugh and I stood there.

I don't remember leaving.

I was determined to learned about music and I started to learn all the words to all the songs I liked. I studied lyrics and looked for double-entendre. I learned metaphors for love and sex, I learned about rhyming and rhythm, beyond just the obvious. I learned about songwriters and songwriting teams.

I never learned to play an instrument.

But I know I can play this: Two Minutes Silence, by Plastic Ono Band:

Day 25 - A song that makes you laugh

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I have no idea what this song is about.

The music is circus-like and the vocal style is borderline insane.

It's from one of my all-time favorite rock albums, an album I think is very overlooked and grossly under-appreciated. If you haven't listened to Eno's first solo album, Here Come The Warm Jets, then get a copy now and do it. Don't let this cut be the deciding factor.

Day 24 - A song that you want to play at your funeral

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I like church services, and I am particularly fond of church music.

At my funeral I hope they play at least the three standard funeral songs: Amazing Grace, Be Not Afraid, and On Eagle's Wings.

I requested Be Not Afraid at my wedding, because I like it so much. Some people thought it was only a song for a funeral, but I don't think so.

However, I don't think religious hymns are what we are discussing here. I am supposed to be hip, or ironic, or sentimental, and pick a pop song to be played at my funeral.

I thought of Dylan's "Knocking On Heaven's Door" and Bertolt Brecht's "My Death" but neither felt right, neither had the angst, the sorrow I would want.

Then I remember the beautiful Dorothy Moore hit, Misty Blue:



Here is Amazing Grace by Joan Baez and her sister, Mimi Farina:



Be Not Afraid:



On Eagle's Wing:

Day 23 - A song that you want to play at your wedding

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Well, I am already married and the wedding songs have already been played.

The music was all rather traditional wedding music, and we had a wedding band that was originally known as the Dick Mac Wedding Garage Band and is now known as Firefly: I danced with my mother to "What A Wonderful World" and my wife danced with her father to "Daddy's Little Girl."

The band played all our faves and added a few of their own. They played Roxy Music's "Do The Strand" which, even if you don't care for the song, you have to admit is a pretty cool song for a wedding band to perform!

Our wedding song was "Wild Is The Wind." Originally recorded by Nina Simone, and later a minor hit for Johnny Mathis, our selection was the David Bowie Version:

Day 22 - A song that you listen to when you're sad:

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

There are few American songwriters as great as Hank Williams. He wrote many songs that are American classics, and many songs for which other singers are famous.

In the last years of his career, of his life actually, Johnny Cash released a series of American collections and on one of them he sings an updated version of "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."

I have used this song as a lullaby because the tune is so soothing, but it is heart-wrenching when you listen to all the words.

The original recording by Hank Williams (1949):



The remarkable remake by Johnny Cash and Nick Cave (2002)




Johnny Cash's original recording (1960):

Day 21 - A song that you listen to when you're happy:

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Don't you know the crime rate's going up up up up up? Living in this town must be tough tough tough tough tough.

Ahhh, yes . . . a song about New York City in a simpler time when the streets were cleaner and the minds were dirtier, when Manhattan apartments cost less than a million dollars per bedroom, and there was more then one by-the-hour hotel in walking distance of every address, when you could get a nickel bag behind the library, and there were no bedbugs to speak of (well, except in this song, of course).

A time when taking a bite of the big apple meant more than visiting a Marriott Hotel, eating at the Olive Garden, drinking coffee from Starbucks, and riding a ferris-wheel inside a toy store: all in Times Square. There was plenty of amusement in Time Square at that time, but it was hardly family fun!

My friends come around: flat-top flat-top flat-top flat-top flat-top.

Day 20 - A song that you listen to when you're angry:

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Elvis Costello can write love songs. He writes even better hate songs.

For some reason, when I thought about this category, I thought primarily about break-up songs and bitchy, nasty songs. "Human Being," by The New York Dolls almost made the cut here.

There is no 20th Century songwriter that does angry white guy better than Elvis Costello. His second album is loaded with angry songs. And I chose "This Year's Girl"; but now I think I should have chosen "Lip Service"or "You Belong To Me"!

Anyway, I knew it would be from This Year's Model:

Day 19 - A song from your favorite album:

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Discussing my favorite album is a conversation that can be different from day-to-day.

Is my favorite album "Diamond Dogs"? Or, is it "Get Happy!"? Is it "Innervisions"? Or, "What's Going On"? "New York Dolls"? "Duck Rock"? "Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One"? Is it a collection of Rodgers & Hart songs, or Boyce & Hart, or Holland-Dozier-Holland, or Lennon McCartney?

Could it be "The Beatles" with its second disc including "Revolution #9"; an album that predicts John Lennon's path towards Plastic Ono Band releases? Is my favorite record his "Plastic Ono Band"?

Is it a concert? Is it "Judy At Carnegie Hall"? The soundtrack to "Woodstock"?

Is it an opera like "Madame Butterfly"? Or, "Carmen"? Or a rock opera like "Jesus Christ Superstar" or "Tommy"?

I think it would certainly be a "concept" album, so a soundtrack would work. It would be an album that has a thread running through it. Could it be "Bat Out Of Hell"?

What about the unreleased, but always available "Grey Album" by Danger Mouse?

Does it have to be a David Bowie record? What about the Rolling Stones? "Some Girls" is a great piece of work. What about Iggy Pop's "The Idiot"?

Did someone say country? "I Am Shelby Lynne" is a remarkable piece, as is the Billy Sherill produced "Almost Blue"; and then the wonderful "Dusty In Memphis" brings us into the blue-eyed soul genre. Where is Alex Chilton? Is it a Big Star record?

Labelle's "Pressure Cookin"?

T.Rex "Electric Warrior"?

What about "Horses" and "Blondie" and "Marquee Moon" and "The Dictators Go Girl Crazy" and "Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols"?

The Clash's "Sandinista" or "London Calling"? Talking Heads "Remain In Light"?

Madonna's first record? Cyndi Lauper's?

And what of the monsters of rock? The beasts? "Led Zeppelin IV" or Black Sabbath's "Paranoid"? Van Halen's "1984"? Queen's "Night At The Opera"?

The monsters of pop? "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" or "Thriller" or "Kissing To Be Clever"?

New Order's "Power, Corruption and Lies"? Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark's "Morality and Architecture"? Gang of Four's "That's Entertainment"? Style Council's "Cafe Bleu"?

Obscure great records like Human Sexual Response's "Figure 14" or "Born To Laugh At Tornadoes" by Was (Not Was)?

And then The Residents "Third Reich & Roll" or Dead Kennedy's "Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables"?

Where are the girls? The Supremes? The Ronettes? The Shangri-Las? Aretha Franklin, Annie Lennox, Marianne Faithfull? Amy Winehouse's "back To Black"? Sharon Jones' "100 Days, 100 Nights"?

And rap or hip-hop? "Straight Outta Compton"? "The Blueprint 3"?

"Licensed To Ill"?

Elvis? Chuck Berry? Little Richard?

Johnny Cash "American IV" or "Live At Folsom Prison"?

De La Soul's "Three Feet High And Rising"?

The list goes on!

You see . . . at any given time, my favorite record could be one or another.

It's hard to tell.

Today, we land here, at Diamond Dogs:

Day 18 - A song that you wish you heard on the radio: Incident on 57th Street

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Yesterday I mentioned the notion of a band's or artist's second record being a real indication of their depth.

In a bit of a contradiction to yesterday's point, I insist that although Bruce Springsteen's second album, "The Wild, The Innocent, And The E Street Shuffle" is not stylistically that very different from his first album, "Greetings From Asbury Park," it is still a great album that indicated he was here to stay and worthy of another listen.

That said, I think Springsteen's story-telling skills did grow between records and continues to grow throughout his career.

I like songs that tell stories, which is why Springsteen is one of my favorite artists.

In this song, Springsteen tells the story of Spanish Johnny and Puerto Rican Jane:

Day 17 - A song that you hear often on the radio: Born This Way

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Gaga is everywhere.

I like her.

It's often the second album that shows what an artist or band is made of. Off the top of my head I can think of a few bands that just bored the hell out of me when their second release, hot on the heels of their remarkably successful debut album, left me bored and irritated.

The Police, U2, Steely Dan, The Cars, B-52s, all come instantly to mind when I think about tiresome second releases.

I mean, if that's what you are going to put out as your second album, perhaps you should have just made your first LP a 2-record-set.

So, I look forward to Gaga's second album (perhaps it has already been released and I don't even know). I do know that the single was released and it was OK. It gets a lot of airplay.

I almost never listed to the radio, but "Born This Way" is on television a lot, so it must be on the radio, too:

Day 16 - A song that you used to love but now hate: Roxanne

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Yes, The Police again.

Because Mrs. Mac is such a massive Sting fan, I have them on the brain more than anybody should have to suffer.

When "Roxanne" was played on the radio, it was amazing. When performed live thirty-plus years ago, it was exciting.

After decades of Police tripe, it is painful to hear.

Please make it stop!

I give you "Roxanne":

Day 15 - A song that describes you: Monkey Man

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I thought maybe David Bowie's "Young Americans" or The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated" would be appropriate selections; but, then I realized it had to be a Stones song.

Would it be "Get Off My Cloud"? "Shattered"? "Dead Flowers"? "Memory Motel"?

Then I decided to be slightly silly about it and pick "Monkey Man."

All my friends are junkies; that's not really true. . . .
I'm a cold Italian Pizza and I need a lemon squeezer. . . .

What does any of this even mean?!?!? Who knows!

Still I've always loved this song and I have chosen it as the song that describes me.

I'm a sack of broken eggs, I always have an unmade bed. . . .
I hope we're not too messianic, or a little too satanic. . . .

Day 14 - A song that no one would expect you to love: Midnight Rider

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

When the Boston Patriots abandoned me and moved to Schaefer Stadium, in Foxboro, Massachusetts, I felt betrayed. Boston no longer had an NFL team, and so my interest in the sport began to wane. Foxboro is more like Providence than Boston.

The Summer that the new Stadium opened a number of rock concerts were held. I went with a group of friends, piled into a van, to a Southern rock extravaganza: Black Oak Arknsas, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and The Allman Brothers Band. I have no idea what possessed me to spend ten or 15 hard-earned dollars on this event, but I did.

Fortunately, I consumed enough alcohol and drugs to not really remember much of it. It was the seventies, after all.

Year later I was living with a roommate who fancies the music of white men singing the blues, and a touch of Southern rock; and I found myself secretly listening to the Allman Brothers song: "Midnight Rider."

So, although I am no fan of the genre, I really like this song:

Day 13 - A song that is a guilty pleasure: You Belong With Me

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

This one is harder that it sounds. Do I actually admit how far down the pop food chain I will travel? Or do I play it safe and select something that is borderline hip and ironic?

Well, I live with a 7-year-old girl who has developed her own taste in music that ranges from Dusty Springfield, David Bowie, and Erasure to Pink, Lady Gaga, and Justin Bieber.

She influences my musical consumption as much as I influence hers. Last week I was required to finally purchase both Care Bears On Fire releases, which I was happy to do; and this was right after we came home from Rebel Rebel with three Erasure CDs.

My best story about guilty pleasure songs hearkens back to the early-1970s when I had The Carpenters "Close To You" album hidden inside a Jimi Hendrix sleeve. I think The Carpenters were great, and "Close To You" was a much more sophisticated song than it was given credit for all those 40 years ago.

More recently I have admitted to liking Pink's pop hit "So What" and Lady Gaga's entire album.

The one I haven't admitted to is today's guilty pleasure: You Belong With Me, by Taylor Swift:

Day 12 - A song from a band you hate: De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da, The Police

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I liked The Police for a minute. Their first record was pretty amazing, a sound that nobody was making at the time. I saw them perform early in their career and they were pretty exciting.

Then their second record was released and, well, it was just like the first, and then the third was released and it was just like the previous two, and I was long done with them.

I came to loathe the lead singer's solo career (even though I have probably seen him perform live more than most of his fans); and I loved the drummer's side project Klark Kent.

To this day, I don't quite get all the excitement about The Police; but this selection wasn't a sure thing. There is an equally irritating band that also had a wonderful first record followed by a long string of similar records that sound so alike I dare you to discern one from the other. This time, though, I chose The Police over U2.

And here is a hateful song from a band I hate:

Day 11 - A song from Your favorite band : Memo From Turner, The Rolling Stones

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I don't remember how old I was the first time I saw "Performance," but it was my mid-teens, in the mid-seventies, at a second-run movie house, late at night, stoned.

I had never heard of the star, James Fox (Chaz) or the pretty French girl Michele Breton (Lucy); but everyone knew Mick Jagger (Turner), and the Italian beauty Anita Pallenberg (Pherber) although not quite a household name, was well-known in her own right.

I had no idea what the movie was about, I couldn't find any consistency in the plot, the sexual dynamics were not remotely clear to me, and the gangsters weren't anything like the gangsters in Hollywood films. The cars and clothes were amazing, the people either exaggeratedly attractive or unattractive, the drugs and money rampant, and the housing stock impressive.

It had something to do with some mafia types and money and a reclusive rock star and his two girlfriends living in Powis Square, Notting Hill.

Still, I left the theater as stoned as I was going in and probably knew less about the movie after viewing it than I did before purchasing my ticket.

I got the soundtrack as soon as I could find it, which wasn't easy; and I really only wanted it for one song: Memo From Turner (although I didn't know the name of the song before I purchased the record).

The song is as sensible and nonsensical as the movie, and is a very typical Rolling Stones song (in retrospect).

Day 10 - A Song That Makes You Sleepy: Little Girl Blue, by any singer

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

When my daughter was an infant, she would only fall asleep while being held and walked around the apartment.

Until she was five years old, I would sing to her before sleep each night. The song list was always the same: "Golden Slumbers," "Little Girl Blue," "Summertime," and "Space Oddity." By the end, one of us would be asleep. If I had to keep going, I would add I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry.

Five years of repeated behavior leads to new habits, so sometimes when I hear the songs, I get sleepy. I guess it's the power of suggestion.

I was turned on to this song when I first heard Janis Joplin's album "I Got Dem Ol' Kozmic Blues Again Mama!" in the late 1960s.

It didn't take long for me to amass a dozen or more versions of Little Girl Blue, adn I like all of them. Here's Nina Simone singing it:

Day 09 - A song that you can dance to: Get On Up, The Esquires

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I am fortunate to have my birthday in February. While growing-up in New England, people were always looking for something to do during the coldest part of the Winter; and my birthday has always been a good reason for a party when the weather is miserable.

At my 10th birthday party, I received three records (45s, 7" singles): "I Say A Little Prayer," by Dionne Warwick, "Funky Broadway," by Wilson Pickett, and "Get On Up," by The Esquires. All of them had been released months earlier, but I wasn't one, at that time, to get records just as they were released.

I had those records for years, and played them until they couldn't play anymore.

In the mid-1980s I scoured the used record stores in Boston until I found a replacement for "Get On Up," one of my favorite songs to this day.

How can you sit yourself down for a rest, when you know that I'm trying my best to dance with you, girl!

Enjoy!

Day 08 - A song that you know all the words to: Baby I'm Yours, by Barbara Lewis

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

Well, there are many, of course. All the Bowie, most of the Elvis, a huge percentage of Beatles and Stones, The Supremes, Ella & Louis. I know all the words to a lot of songs.

So, I tried to remember the first song to which I knew all the words, and I thought perhaps it was "Bits & Pieces" or "Glad All Over" by the Dave Clark Five, but then I realized I never really, clearly knew all the words because they were sung and produced in that marvelous English way of ensuring some of the words are unintelligible.

So, I thought of American songs from the early- to mid-sixties that I heard a lot and sang along with. That's when I remembered Barbara Lewis' songs "Baby I'm Yours" and "Puppy Love."

Day 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain event: Everyone Says Hi, by David Bowie

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

I hate outdoor shows.

Sometimes the act you want to see is playing a shed and it's either go to the outdoor venue or miss the show.

In 2002, David Bowie joined Moby's Area2 tour. Sigh.

So, I got some tickets for the show in Massachusetts and went with my best friend, Steven to see the show.

Steven wasn't in the best of health (OK, he was really sick) but he made the trek to the show nonetheless. We had pretty good seats, which isn't easy at a shed show.

Bowie performed brilliantly, playing some classics as well as most (if not all) of his then-current album, Heathen. When he sang "Everyone Says Hi" I noticed that Steven was weeping. The song is a wonderful song, seemingly about somebody's death, and Bowie performs it beautifully.

Steven didn't have a lot of time left in the world, less than 18 months later he was gone.

He took the big trip, he moved away. It happened all so quietly. I should have taken a picture that day, something I could keep and buy a little frame, something cheap. He sailed the big ship, sailed away. I'd love to get a letter. I'd like to know what's what. I hope the weather's good and it's not too hot for him. I wish he could come home so we could do all the old things, we could do all the bad things. We could do all the good things, we could do it, we could do it, we could do it.

Everyone says 'hi'!



I miss Steven.

Day 06 - A song that reminds you of somewhere: I Try, by Macy Gray

by Dick Mac

The 30 Day Song Challenge has been presented to me by my friend Beff. The month of April will be dedicated to those thirty songs.

When we moved into our first flat in London, right in the City near St. Paul's, it was completely furnished and included a stereo with a 3-disc CD player. With most of the CD collection in NYC, our selection remained small while I purchased a CD here and there.

The three CDs in heaviest rotation in the earliest days were Macy Gray "On How Life Is," Red Chord "Wicked ... Live At The Abbey," and "The Best of Dusty Springfield."

Although the disc-changer was set to random, and the randomness was pretty effective, I seemed to hear Macy Gray's "I Try" every day.

Whenever I hear it now, ten years later, I imagine standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of our living room in The King's Wardrobe looking out into the cobbled courtyard off Carter Lane.



Ten years later. . . .

It was in that flat, in February 2001, that I wrote my first entry in this blog, White City Old City Red City Cold City! Although I pre-dated some articles that had been published elsewhere, this story about my birthday trip to Morocco was my first foray into blogging!

Tempis fugit