on hating "mustang sally"
if you think "classic rock" radio can condition you to hate certain music, try playing in bar bands for a few yrs.
if you're a musician of a certain age, who doesn't like to rehearse much but likes to make money, it might seem like an attractive proposition at first. sooner than you think, though, you'll wind up telling yourself, "i'll slit my wrists if i ever have to play 'brown eyed girl' / 'johnny b. goode' / 'pride and joy' / [insert name of loathesome overplayed chestnut here] again." trust me. i know. i have.
by far the worst of these, number one with a bullet on my hit parade of songs i'd rather pull my eyes out than ever have to play / hear / be on the same planet with again is -- that's right -- the 1966 wilson pickett hit "mustang sally."
an admission: i used to _like_ "mustang sally." where i grew up (on lawn guyland in the '60s), _everybody_ did, because the young rascals covered it. (in my neighborhood, the rascals, the four seasons, and the vanilla fudge were all, in their time, bigger than the beatles -- because they were _italian_.) that was a long, long time ago.
a few yrs ago i was in a bluesband, playing in some shit-dive downtown that's since deservedly gone the way of all flesh. the bassplayer was an italo-american kid from lawn guyland, maybe ten years younger than me. fool that i was, i assumed that because of his heritage and place of origin, he was hardwired from birth to play the stupid song, because of the rascals connection. (how was i supposed to know he went to high school in _richardson_?!?!?) little did i suspect that his musical referents were pretty much limited to the beatles, pink floyd, and pearl jam. imagine my surprise when, instead of riding the I chord forever the way he was supposed to, he made the IV change as if it was a normal bluessong. a friend of mine who was there said he could hear me yelling "one!!! _one_!!! ONE!!!" over the band, all the way from the back of the room.
a coupla yrs ago, i was playing on the street in omaha with nathan brown. we only made two dollars in four hours, but i had an opportunity i'd been waiting over 30 years for.
a street saxophonist saw us setting up and approached. "uh, what's the name of your band, man?"
"nathan brown's r&b."
"r&b, huh? um, do you know 'mustang sally'?"
"NO!!!"
the _only_ good version of the song is the one in the commitments. "roid, sally, roid," indeed.
if you're a musician of a certain age, who doesn't like to rehearse much but likes to make money, it might seem like an attractive proposition at first. sooner than you think, though, you'll wind up telling yourself, "i'll slit my wrists if i ever have to play 'brown eyed girl' / 'johnny b. goode' / 'pride and joy' / [insert name of loathesome overplayed chestnut here] again." trust me. i know. i have.
by far the worst of these, number one with a bullet on my hit parade of songs i'd rather pull my eyes out than ever have to play / hear / be on the same planet with again is -- that's right -- the 1966 wilson pickett hit "mustang sally."
an admission: i used to _like_ "mustang sally." where i grew up (on lawn guyland in the '60s), _everybody_ did, because the young rascals covered it. (in my neighborhood, the rascals, the four seasons, and the vanilla fudge were all, in their time, bigger than the beatles -- because they were _italian_.) that was a long, long time ago.
a few yrs ago i was in a bluesband, playing in some shit-dive downtown that's since deservedly gone the way of all flesh. the bassplayer was an italo-american kid from lawn guyland, maybe ten years younger than me. fool that i was, i assumed that because of his heritage and place of origin, he was hardwired from birth to play the stupid song, because of the rascals connection. (how was i supposed to know he went to high school in _richardson_?!?!?) little did i suspect that his musical referents were pretty much limited to the beatles, pink floyd, and pearl jam. imagine my surprise when, instead of riding the I chord forever the way he was supposed to, he made the IV change as if it was a normal bluessong. a friend of mine who was there said he could hear me yelling "one!!! _one_!!! ONE!!!" over the band, all the way from the back of the room.
a coupla yrs ago, i was playing on the street in omaha with nathan brown. we only made two dollars in four hours, but i had an opportunity i'd been waiting over 30 years for.
a street saxophonist saw us setting up and approached. "uh, what's the name of your band, man?"
"nathan brown's r&b."
"r&b, huh? um, do you know 'mustang sally'?"
"NO!!!"
the _only_ good version of the song is the one in the commitments. "roid, sally, roid," indeed.
posted by stashdauber at 2:59 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home