#87) "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas - The most amazing thing about Kansas' biggest charting single might be that it peaked at #6 in the spring of '78 on the Billboard Top 100, essentially the same countdown that now hosts the likes of Kesha, Kanye and Katy.
In pointing this out, I'm not intending to draw a 'better or worse' comparison so much as illustrate the mind-boggling disparity between where popular music once was, and where it finds itself today. Imagine an authentically heady song like Dust in the Wind (as opposed to just another power ballad) getting so much as a whiff of airplay today! Imagine Top 40 radio deejays announcing it as new or 'hot' music on an all-request Friday night, imagine it getting requested by teenagers the way Lorde, or John Legend, or Adele, are today. Imagine Kansas playing this song in concert back in the day, buzz killing the lot of post-groovy 70s kids who showed up expecting to rock out to "Carry On Wayward Son" (another song that will likely show up on this list) and instead had their minds sent off shore by long, long thoughts most people don't start having until at least age 30.
And yet, greatness has a way of enduring through time. According to Wikipedia (and take this for what it's worth, of course..), Dust in the Wind is among the most digitally downloaded songs these days, certified Gold in 2008, which means there might still be an appetite for the kind of far-reaching understanding this song sets down.
I like to think so. The song really is awesome; sends my mind off shore, without question. When all is said and done, when all our stories are told, and told again, and told too many times (and make no mistake, they will be), there might be no more unsettling and at the same time comforting truth.
We are all, and everything is, dust in the wind.
"All my dreams pass before my eyes a curiosity..."
#88) "Cowboy" by Kid Rock - I wonder a lot when I listen to this song.
I wonder about the recklessness it speaks of, and the type of person who might want to emulate it. I wonder if he might really believe there is a chance in hell that he'll someday do the same thing - pack up his game and head out west, pimp, mack and ball, brother - and moreover if he believes such an endeavor will turn out just like in the song, or that it ever turns out that way for anyone.
I guess it did turn out like that for Kid Rock...
I usually have to identify with something in a song in order to take notice. Not always, but most of the time, the songs that have moved me are those that could easily be placed on a soundtrack of my life. On that score, I don't think I'm all that unusual.
Cowboy is overwhelmingly a dude's anthem, a bucket of testosterone splashed over the listener's head, or chilled until it hardens, then carved into deep blue bars of Fight Club-style soap, which sponsors every episode of 1000 Ways to Die on Spike TV...
That means that on the surface, within the razor-thin string of impulse and/or instinct I largely have no control over, I get this song. But its reckless machismo quickly escapes me. Most men are never going to actually do this, and if someone does, somehow, find his way to Cali-for-ny-ay, the bitter truth is he would probably find this realm of the Golden State completely inaccessible. He would find himself far less likely to give a toast to the sun and drink with the stars, far more likely to wind up in over his head and out of options. He would inevitably fuck up in some way, the chaos he's caused turning against him on a dime, culminating with his being dragged shirtless out from under a trailer by the cops, in front of his girlfriend (who now fears she may not have loved him enough...), his kids, his neighbors...
This is not intended to malign any particular person or lifestyle, rather, to expose the notion of inviting this brand of chaos into one's life as ultimately a futile and destructive endeavor. I contend that Cowboy is simply not very realistic for any guy - anybody - over the age of 22 with an IQ over 100, but maybe it isn't supposed to be; maybe it's just a hardcore fantasy. Maybe I'm over thinking it. Wouldn't be the first time.
While I'm at it, though, I wonder about Kid Rock's politics of late, as Cowboy thumps defiantly from my car stereo (terrifying little old ladies crossing in front of me at a red light...;-), I wonder about his appearances on Fox News, support for Mitt Romney in 2012. Does that alienate certain fans? I'm not saying it should, necessarily...just that it must. It must. There would seem to be no way around it.
What is it about Cowboy that I took notice of? I can't honestly say...it's just a great song. Great jam. There's no denying that. Maybe that's all that needs to be said.
Maybe it makes me wonder about myself. I've always been more comfortable with the concept of being the law, rather than the cowboy.
And yet...and yet...there are times...
"They told us to leave, but bet they can't make us..."
#89) "Rocky Mountain High" by John Denver - Like Dust in the Wind, Rocky Mountain High's ascent to #9 on the US singles chart in 1973 would not likely happen today, not so much for the folksy-dolksy musical style, but what it's about, the earnest consciousness intrinsic in its lyrics. And Rocky Mountain High went a step further in the 'impossible to believe' category, becoming a wellspring of some controversy in its time, as it was believed - by some - to contain - *GASP!* - drug references.
Folksy-dolksy though it may be, Rocky Mountain High isn't innocuous. I think it's not only a rousing clarion call to the importance of connecting to nature, but also a lyrical ode to the joy found in doing so. And not that it matters at this point (or ever did...), but I completely believe Denver's explanation that the song was misinterpreted by people who have obviously never been to the Rocky Mountains. Seriously, if you heard this song in 1973 and jumped straight past Denver's obvious revelry to the conclusion that the word 'high' is drug related - around the campfire or otherwise - perhaps you were high.
I drove through the Rocky Mountains in January, in the middle of the night, in blizzard conditions forcing big rigs to pull over and put chains on their tires, and I was still blown away by their presence; I can't wait to get back there in summer, in early mornings and lingering twilights.
On 1/48/50, or before. And after.
"Talk to God and listen to the casual reply..."
#90) "Carefree Highway" by Gordon Lightfoot - As I've written before, to a northerner like myself, Gordon Lightfoot is like a comfortable pair of shoes...something that is familiar, and beautiful, if not always pleasant. It's in his voice, in his melodies; it's in what he sings about and how he sings about it.
When I dreamt of traveling in days gone by, Carefree Highway was largely how I pictured it playing out. I was younger then, of course...saw myself immersed in things to a greater extent, my life and the road melded as one...a true drifter. I will be not be a true drifter on 1/48/50; I will always have someone, and something to come back to, an anchor, and that's okay. 'The morning after blues from my head down to my shoes' would probably make the highway a lot less carefree.
"Her name was Ann and I'll be damned if I recall her face..."
