#189) "American Woman" by The Guess Who - I've always held a place in my heart for The Guess Who. There is a certain energized hostility folded into much of their music that I find compelling. It's not quite as easy to pick up on as it would be in "hard rock" songs in years to come, but it's all the more effective for this subtlety, well suited to singer Burton Cumming's agitated vocal style. Always gets me keyed up.
"American Woman" is a 1970 indictment of, well, America in the thick of the Vietnam era, but it stands the test of time, because it's calling out more, I think, than just America's involvement in Southeast Asia.
I'm patriotic for the most part. I don't think America is to blame for all the world's ills or that every move this country makes around the world is inherently wrong, nor do I fail to acknowledge certain aspects of our Constitution that the Founders got right that are very much a reason to celebrate each July Fourth. But I'm nothing if not reasonable, and open-minded, and some of what The Guess Who were talking about in this song, I'd say, is still going on today, and has only gotten worse. Like the aforementioned "hostility", what exactly is being said is not blatantly obvious. You have to really listen to the lyrics and be willing and able to interpret.
That The Guess Who are a Canadian band makes it somehow more compelling, not less. I'm not sure why.
"Don't come a-knocking around my door, don't want to see your shadow no more / Colored lights can hypnotize / Sparkle someone else's eyes..."
#190) "One for My Baby" by Frank Sinatra - I remember reading an article about Frank Sinatra written by the late David Halberstam, appearing in a 1998 issue of Playboy shortly before the singer's passing. Halberstam wrote that what he enjoyed most about Sinatra was not the finger snapping, ringa-dinga-ling Rat Pack period, nor was it the very early days when he crooned and bobby-soxers swooned. Sinatra's finest work, Halberstam wrote, was in the 1950s:
"His audience was by then predominantly white, male, and middle to upper class. There is no small amount of irony here. In a few years, with the coming of the women's movement, those of us who constituted Sinatra's core audience would be viewed as an empowered male elite who dominated and determined the lives of the women of our generation. But we hardly felt empowered when we were young. More often than not, we felt some form of rejection or heartbreak, and certainly a great deal of awkwardness. Sinatra's attraction was that he seemed to share that same pain. No wonder he was so fond of a story that made the rounds in those days: It is very late at night in a bar, and a bunch of single guys are drowning their sorrows. One of them points to the jukebox, which is playing Sinatra's One For My Baby. 'I wonder who he listens to?' the man says."
There is really nothing I can add to that. And some songs don't need to be talked about anyway, or interpreted, just listened to.
"So set 'em up Joe, I got a little story I think you should know / We're drinking my friend, to the end of a brief episode..."
