copulative structure in song titles and broken days
I’m having a crappy day and a half. I won’t bother you with details, but it’s the "fuck everything" sort of stretch that makes you want to uproot what stable things are left.
Yesterday as I drove home from work I made a connection between Kristin Hersh and Pat Benatar. I took note because this is the second time. As you may know, Kristin Hersh is my hero.
The wise man over at God Has Wheels put together some 80s music mixes, which the wise man over at Hall of the Monkey King put onto CD for me. Some are the "that was my favorite song when I was little" sort; others are the "I can’t believe someone actually had that idea and acted on it" sort; some are just funny.
Pat Benatar’s "Love Is a Battlefield" played in my car as I drove home (after the first series of events during which the gods turned against me). At the beginning of the song, the primary vocal is Pat speaking the words and in the background you hear her singing. On Kristin Hersh’s "Listerine," the last track on Sunny Border Blue, she speaks the words (I believe) underneath her singing them. The first time I heard this song I thought it an unusually dramatic trope for her to throw in. Perhaps it’s all Pat.
The first time I made a connection between Pat Benatar and Kristin Hersh I was listening to "Bea," the second track on Throwing Muses’ Hunkpapa. At the end of the song, before the final hypnotic pound of drum and guitar to the end, as she’s singing, "Nothing makes me live my life but you/And that mark on your back making babies/In the field," it occurred to me she sounded like Pat Benatar—from the period of "Love Is a Battlefield," which I know because my mom played those songs—"We Belong," "Hell Is for Children," "Heartbreaker"—when I was growing up. The video during which Pat and the other girls are dressed in rags and marching forward in the dark fascinated me.
What does this connection mean--for me or for life itself? I’m not sure, but probably there is a Greek tragedy buried in it, ready to elucidate lessons about fate and family and who one considers one's gods—and in that tune how you should let the gods have their way with you now and again. It ain’t all milk and cookies, and how boring if it were I s'pose.
Yesterday as I drove home from work I made a connection between Kristin Hersh and Pat Benatar. I took note because this is the second time. As you may know, Kristin Hersh is my hero.
The wise man over at God Has Wheels put together some 80s music mixes, which the wise man over at Hall of the Monkey King put onto CD for me. Some are the "that was my favorite song when I was little" sort; others are the "I can’t believe someone actually had that idea and acted on it" sort; some are just funny.
Pat Benatar’s "Love Is a Battlefield" played in my car as I drove home (after the first series of events during which the gods turned against me). At the beginning of the song, the primary vocal is Pat speaking the words and in the background you hear her singing. On Kristin Hersh’s "Listerine," the last track on Sunny Border Blue, she speaks the words (I believe) underneath her singing them. The first time I heard this song I thought it an unusually dramatic trope for her to throw in. Perhaps it’s all Pat.
The first time I made a connection between Pat Benatar and Kristin Hersh I was listening to "Bea," the second track on Throwing Muses’ Hunkpapa. At the end of the song, before the final hypnotic pound of drum and guitar to the end, as she’s singing, "Nothing makes me live my life but you/And that mark on your back making babies/In the field," it occurred to me she sounded like Pat Benatar—from the period of "Love Is a Battlefield," which I know because my mom played those songs—"We Belong," "Hell Is for Children," "Heartbreaker"—when I was growing up. The video during which Pat and the other girls are dressed in rags and marching forward in the dark fascinated me.
What does this connection mean--for me or for life itself? I’m not sure, but probably there is a Greek tragedy buried in it, ready to elucidate lessons about fate and family and who one considers one's gods—and in that tune how you should let the gods have their way with you now and again. It ain’t all milk and cookies, and how boring if it were I s'pose.
2 Comments:
You were little in the 80s. That's cute.
The Throwing Muses line:
done your time, been in your place
I couldn't look you in the face
and tell you that it turns me on
it makes my stomach turn
also reminds me of Benatar's "Hit me with your best
shot."
Well you’re the real tough cookie with the long history
Of breaking little hearts, like the one in me
Before I put another notch in my lipstick case
You better make sure you put me in my place
What does this mean? It means that women, (not just Greek) have a tendency to pick crappy boyfriends before they find their crappy husbands.
Thanks for the literary analysis on Kristin Hersh and Pat Benatar. What an unfortunate path, boyfriend to husband, all falling under crappy.
I cringed as I wrote "little" in the 80s. It seemed such a disgustingly cute way to put it. But I was age 4-14 then, little to awkward.
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