Don't You Want Me, Baby.

-

 I don't really remember a ton about being 11 years old but there is one thing that does stick in my head and that is that 1982 was the year of The Human League in my house. I'm not sure if my dad was still working in radio at the time but he certainly still had his radio buddies and the ability to get his hands on any new music from just about anywhere. Let's back up, in late 1981 The Human League released Dare, their third studio album which didn't really strike too much of a cord here in the states until they dropped "Don't You Want Me" and its unforgettable video.

I'm really not sure what it was about the video that made it become so iconic, but for whatever reason, the visuals really stuck and somehow felt way ahead of their time. My dad didn't just love "Don't You Want Me" but he had to get his hands on a special German (I think) extended mix import that featured what sounds like machine guns on the track during the chorus. Dad had a stereo that rivaled whatever you'd find in any radio station and he always cranked things up as loud as he could get away with. This version of this song drove my mother completely out of her mind. It was the heavy artillery fire mixed in with those synth beats that drove her out of her mind and caused some serious fights.  She would complain and it seemed for a while there like The Human League was in some seriously heavy rotation.

"Don't You Want Me" is one of those songs that I seriously connect to grade school and it seemed to pop up on a regular basis for several years of my life. I talked to my dad recently to try and convince him to come for a visit. Some health issues prevented that from happening but he recently made a point of telling me that he was listening to The Human League, making it pretty clear that I'm not the only one that remembers the drama that their song caused.

Popular posts from this blog

Vehicle.

-
Image
  I've written so much about music one way or another over the years that you'd think that I'd have nothing much left to say. It has all landed in some piece somewhere before, right? I mean it has to have. I remember interviewing for a newspaper job years ago and the managing editor saying to me, "So you've come to terms with the fact that you're a writer and that this is what you're supposed to do with your life?" and I thought before finally saying yes. His response, "It's devastating isn't it?" just completely leveled me in hysterical laughter (which then equally leveled him). I made a friend for life that day because it actually IS devastating. I've set myself up for a work-life filled with rejection- and that's if you actually make it! If you're established editors will take the time to reject you and if you're not... you'll pitch and submit pieces until your fingers fall off with absolutely no response.  It&#
Read more

Note To Self.

-
Image
 So, after spending the last year gathering stories, bits of wisdom, and cautionary tales from various women, it has really made me start to reflect on myself. I’ve been through the wringer, and also, quite obviously, I’ve lived to tell about it. What would I say to try and reassure my sixteen-year-old self? So many things that I feel as if my head could explode! First of all, just hold on. Seriously, dig your feet in and hold on, because absolutely everything passes. All of those things that you absolutely believe are the end of the world? They are not. Trust me. In a few short years, you won’t be able to call those things to mind, even if someone offers you a million in cold hard cash and is standing there holding the briefcase. Thankfully, the passage of time seems to bring a healing sort of amnesia, so just hold on another minute. Let that minute turn into an hour, into a day, into next week. Everything will pass. I have to caution you, though, because just as all of the bad t
Read more

Raised On Radio.

-
Image
  This past Saturday afternoon was spent, like so many others before it, in one of my very favorite places on earth: an old record shop. I left the car and walked down one of the most idyllic streets on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, in what has been dubbed “The Coolest Small Town in America” thanks to a national contest a few summers ago. There was excitement bordering on anxiety running through my veins. I couldn’t quite reach the front door fast enough, yet once I was three steps from the shop, I instinctively slowed down because I didn’t want to seem too anxious. I opened the door, stepped inside, and immediately calmed down. I could smell musty old vinyl records and incense burning and  hear the old floorboards shifting beneath my feet. It could have been a hot summer day in 2017, or one back in 1987. Time was irrelevant because either way, I was home.   When I was a little girl way back in 1970-something, I would spend plenty of time hanging out with my dad while my mom worked ni
Read more