Every year, my neighbor Linda attends our local zydeco festival and invites me to go with her. That is because she is awesome. Every year, I am unable to go. That is because I am lame.
Tina Turner is a walking testimonial to the benefits of Buddhism and vegetarianism (also, marrying a billionaire and expatriating to Switzerland). You know how people say, “I hope I look that good when I’m her age?” Shoot: I wish I looked that good now. Also: Private Dancer, greatest comeback album of all time and one of the best ever, period. This one’s for Tim, RIP.
Of all the Temptations moments of awesomeness (basically, all of them), my personal favorite is “Ball of Confusion.” The song that not only parallels the “eve of destruction” with a “tax deduction” (because, huh?) but also says the safest place to live is on an Indian reservation. I’ll bet the remnants of the Native American population were relieved to hear that.
I don’t get it. Their last name is “Staples,” but they are the “Staple Singers.” That’s wrong, right? Though to be honest, if Mavis is singing lead in my band, she can call herself whatever she wants.
The day I met Max, the first thing he said to me was, “Don’t you think Smokey Robinson was the greatest singer of the 60s?” I knew right away I was going to like this kid. Smokey Robinson and I also have the same birthday, so clearly I am awesome by association.
Everybody Is a Star! You Can Make It If You Try! I – I – I AM EVERYDAY PEOPLE!
I love this group.
This is another catch-all category, but there was so much amazing soul music in the 60s that I couldn’t let these songs go unpresented. Any music blog that doesn’t include “Sweet Soul Music” or “Higher and Higher” is a blog I don’t want any part of.
Could somebody explain to me how the 60s morphed into the 70s? If pot mellows you out and coke speeds you up, shouldn’t the music of the 70s have been louder and rougher than what came before? Did Gerald Ford numb everyone to death? Please help me understand how Mitch Ryder turned into Robert Palmer! Please!
This is basically a made-up category, but as a child of the 70s, I wanted to recognize the brief period where there were a number of female artists whose music and lyrics pretty much identified them as folk singers, but who had a rich, soulful delivery that Joan Baez would probably sell all her diamonds for. (The one dude I can think of in this category was Donny Hathaway, who will get his own list in round two.) (Also, I promise not to make any jokes about Janis Ian, even though I think “At Seventeen” is the most unintentionally hilarious song ever. As a gay guy who went to an all-boys Catholic high school, I know those years can be tough. But good Lord—get a grip, woman.)
Did you know Rick James was Canadian? Me, neither. There go all my “no funk” Canadian stereotypes. Plus: The 10 songs you can play at any party, anywhere, for any age group, and everyone will be up dancing with no exception.
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Max and Megan watch every one of their 250+ DVDs and decide which to keep and which to toss.
Playlist of the Day 