#170) "River" by Joni Mitchell - For me, music is just music. I either like something, or I don't, and I resist labels that try to tell me what I "should" be listening to. But I can't deny there are some performers who are geared specifically - solely - toward a certain listener. Katy Perry, Adele, Rhianna, Taylor Swift, for instance...these singers make music for girls and/or women, no question. It is the female psyche, not the male, being represented in their songs. At the same time, plenty of their male counterparts in popular music pander solely to the instincts of men, although (and this shouldn't be too surprising) generally speaking, it's more acceptable for a female to rock out to Guns and Roses, or Kid Rock, or Eminem, or Korn, to shave her head, get a tattoo and stage dive at OzzFest, than it is for me to ever admit there's something about the song Teenage Dream that appeals to me. (Even now, I sit with my fingers poised above the backspace key, contemplating taking that last line out...;-)
Recently, I was called out, good-naturedly but seriously, by someone (a woman, and Millennial) for listening to "River" by Joni Mitchell. She thought it was funny, as though the song was too drenched in estrogen for any man to have on his phone. Privately, I was thinking, aren't we all supposed to be beyond that?, but I just smiled and shrugged, saw no need to get into a debate. I was - and am - unflinching in my love of "River", for a couple of reasons.
Number one, I think what distinguishes a performer from an artist is universality - the ability to touch hearts and minds across gender, and race, and nationality. In some songs, from some artists, it doesn't matter if you can relate specifically to what's being sung about. You feel. And the need society has to tuck things away into a nice, tidy genre so that it may be digested easily, sucks. Not just music, but movies, books...marketing really is the killer of art.
Number two, the exquisite beauty of "River" completely transcends gender, even THOUGH, yes, it's very much a song about a woman's experiences/thoughts/emotions. No matter. Its evocative brew of woodsy imagery and equally woodsy foreboding, lovely piano work and Mitchell's astonishing voice, are impossible not to be moved by, and testament to her artistry. And of course, there is the line, "I wish I had a river I could skate away on...." The depth and range of that sentiment is not likely to wind up in a Katy Perry song anytime soon.
And don't let them kid you, men have feelings like this. If they don't, it's only because they won't allow themselves to. They protect themselves from anything the least bit emotionally challenging, or potentially messy, usually with jokes, sarcasm, or (too often) anger. Hey, sometimes I do too. And to that end, make no mistake, I'm all for men being men and women being women. I cringe mightily at the thought of a politically correct, gender-neutral world. But at a certain point, a man just starts being repressed. We are all outfitted with the same complement of emotions at birth. It's what we do with them, or what happens to them perhaps, as time passes, that determines who and how we are.
I personally would not want to be a man living his life (or driving 14,000 miles) without a river to skate away on, at least in his mind.
"I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly..."
#171) "Come Monday" by Jimmy Buffet - I'll say right off the bat, that in general I'm not a fan of Jimmy Buffet. The whole "parrothead" thing repulses me, not sure why. Maybe because "Margaritaville" is wholly overrated, even as a cult classic.
But "Come Monday" wins me over. Part of this might be that it was one of those songs "rocking" my cradle, drizzling out of a little AM transistor radio when I was very, very young. If you're listening at all at that age, you don't forget what you hear, and for better or worse, what I heard early on was a heaping helping of AM Gold, thanks to my parents.
But even today, there's something about "Come Monday" that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. As the refrain ramps up, the instrumentation works in tandem with the melody (and Buffet's voice) to create a powerful little moment of anticipation, of longing, of anxiety. I can never say quite what I'm anxious about listening to this song, only that I am. Like Joni Mitchell's "River", it is at once beautiful and haunting. Dated, and yet timeless.
"I spent four lonely days in a brown L.A. haze..."
