Wednesday, October 3, 2018

#333 - Speak to Me in Riddles

   If you're just tuning in to Treasure Never Buried, today's post is #333 in a descending list of the 365 most influential songs of the first 40 years of my life.  We've covered several different genres, several different artist and several different decades.  And, I'm only getting started.

  I've obviously saved the best for last with my Top 10 coming in late August 2018.  Between here and there, we're wading through the other 355 songs in no particular order.


   To be a Top 25 song, I have surprisingly little to bring to the table with this one.  I won't bore you with attempts to do otherwise.  But, I will say that today's song (not the one in the video above) is the one that kicked off a lifelong obsession of mine for Sarah McLachlan.

   For a song written from the perspective of a stalker that Sarah McLachlan had...I probably shouldn't call my enjoyment of some of her music an "obsession".  (READ the creepy history link below to learn more.)

   But whatever you want to call it...say what you will...I don't care.  I've already covered, rather extensively, how I feel (or, better said, how little I feel) about those who might view the statement of a proud, straight Southern man saying he's obsessed with Sarah McLachlan.  Doesn't faze me.  She is a exemplary song writer and an outstanding pianist.  Period.

   And, I've never met an actual, real life angel but I'm assuming that's how they sing.

   Long before she became the face of battered puppies and abused kittens...this was the Sarah McLachlan I got hooked on...

Possession (1993)
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Sarah McLachlan
Album art (and album review at this link) courtesy of Pitchfork

 

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

#334 - It's a Shame About The Weather

When I close my eyes I see you

no matter where I am.
I can smell your perfume through these whispering pines.
I''m with your ghost again.


   I could stop there and I would have said all that I need to say about why this song is on my list...why this song is in my Top 25 songs of all time. Those lyrics...they're why. But it is also the epitome of a great song for me. Excellent lyrics, a good Country story and it's a blast to sing along with.

   The Zac Brown Band's "Colder Weather", isn't the definitive song and 2010 isn't the definitive year when Country became the seething landscape of tanned legs and tailgates and getting drunk and country crunk. But, it's one of the last remaining great songs we were given before the Country music scene became what it is today.

Colder Weather (2010)
You Get What You Give
Zac Brown Band
Go buy your own danged copy...

   Since I pretty much have nothing else to say on this one, I'm going to rant on something else for a minute that I've only alluded to but need to elaborate on a bit.  

   I harp on Bro-Country constantly.  I hate it because it's just terrible music.  Absolutely terrible.  It's the Mumble Rap of the backwoods.  It's the K-Pop of the South.  


   Bro-Country is that juicy, stinking liquid that's trapped in the middle of the trash bag until you pick it up and it starts to work it's way down the inside of the bag like one of Bob Barker's Plinko chips. Then, as you're walking it to the street that morning, before leaving for work, the bag snags on something along the way and drips that putrid concoction of garbage-aid all down the side of your pants leg.

   During the entire drive to work you can't figure out where the smell is coming from until you get to the job site and realize your leg is soaked with a slight tinge of moist green and brown. You know you didn't crap your pants because the trajectory required for that to have been the case is reminiscent of the magic bullets from various JFK assassination hoax theories. But, the smell has you second guessing your logic.

   That there? That's Bro-Country.
I miss Plinko

   It's worse than just plain garbage. It stays stuck to you for the rest of the day and causes you embarrassment everywhere you go until you can get back home and chunk your pants in the wash like a cursed ring into the flames in Mordor.

   As a getting-old-man, I can finally understand why so many already-old-men are so friggin' angry. You get older and you lose your hair, you lose your teeth, you lose your memory but you gain your paunch-belly. Your ears and nose starting growing hair faster than your back and 30 year olds start calling you sir along with the teenagers.

   But, most importantly, the kids come along and drip hot, stinky garbage juice on everything you care about by reinventing all the things you've come to know and love about your time on Earth. Your tv shows don't represent you anymore and Hollywood has moved on. Most importantly...they break your music.
YOU SHALL NOT PASS...
without checking out these lyrics first
...
   If I sound aggravated...I am. Bro-Country is trash. I can't say it enough.

   It would be one thing if there were just a few artists that prescribe to that sound. It would be even better if there only a smattering of those type songs here and there. It's a wholly different thing when it becomes its own genre and then REPLACES the real Country genre on the radio with itself.

   Do we blame the artists? The labels and record executives? The radio stations? The fans? I don't know...I don't care. It just needs to be taken down to the river and Lennie'd in the back of the head with a revolver.

   Now y'all done got my blood pressure up.  Hope your happy, Jason Aldean.

Monday, October 1, 2018

#335 - She Is His Only Need

   Before I get started, I have to give credit where credit is due and point out a STELLAR podcast that I found a few weeks ago.  It's called Cocaine and Rhinestones and if you're a fan of classic country (pre 2000s) and/or really interesting, quirky history...you MUST check out Mr. Coe's work.

   (NOTE:  He has a second show that he cohosts that I've only found this past week and that I'll be talking about on a future post.  If you can't wait that long...it's called Your Favorite Band Sucks and it's pretty great in it's own right.  Shouldn't be hard to find in whichever podcastificating app that you cotton to).
Click here to check out the companion blog sight for Cocaine & Rhinestones!
   Anyway, this entry was not supposed to be the song I've listed here today.  It was a completely different song.  However, after having listened to C&R's episode about The Judds, I was reminded of this song.  I did some soul searching and felt like this song should replace the other one on the list.  If it's any consolation to you purists out there who feel "I've cheated" on my...you know...my own project, I made the change a few days ago and I can't even remember what I replaced.  So, there's that.

   Now back to today's actual post...

   The next couple of days, as I continue to play catch up on getting these posts out on the day that it says they're coming out on (almost there!), I'm going to have a couple of short posts.  There are a handful of songs on this week's docket that don't necessarily require a lot of historical insight or postulating from me.

   Today's entry will be one of those short posts I mentioned.  (Author's Note: After having finished writing the post...no...no, it's not a short one.)
Historical information relayed here
was gathered entirely from Wikipedia

   The Judds were a mother/daughter Country duo throughout my childhood in the 1980's.  Their mainstream career began in 1983 when they signed on with RCA and their utter domination of the Country charts remained constant until 1989 when their popularity began to wane.  Within two years, they would prematurely disband due to Naomi's declining health in 1991.

   In their short 8 year tenure, they would go on to win numerous Grammy awards for their near constant stream of successful singles.  As a matter of fact, "Mama He's Crazy", their second release off their first album, would go on to be the first of 8 straight Number 1 Country singles as well as their first Grammy win.

   The woman on the right (in the picture to the right) is award-winning actress, and younger sister of Naomi Judd, Ashley Judd.  You might remember her from Kiss the Girlsor A Time to Kill or maybe Double Jeopardy (the latter of which is the best of those three, in my opinion).

   The Judds' rein as a Country powerhouse began when I was just 4 years' old and ended before my 12th birthday.

   For the greater majority of my life (read: the first 30 years), there were 3 categories that music I enjoyed typically fell into.  Not genres, mind you.  Categories.  If I liked it, it was almost always for one of these 3 reasons:

   Number 3, and least important, was the sound.  Very few songs became my favorite because of anything that a musician did.  I am not a musician.  I am a singer.  Instrumental profiency rarely matters for me.  But, I can appreciate a well-timed, killer drum solo or a sauntering piano melody that makes you feel something inside that you didn't mean to feel.  I do revere a blazing fiddle, a searing harmonica, a plodding dobro and songs that do well at the placement of strong guitar riffs.  But, that is few and far between.

   The second most important thing that I tend to enjoy are strong lyrics.  They don't even have to apply to my life or my situation.  But, if the poetry of the song grabs my attention for being cleverly well-worded, if it makes me stop and rethink how I've viewed a certain thing or, more importantly, if it sticks with me as a mantra of sorts, it ends up making my list.  A tremendous number of songs fall into this category.  Honestly, even though it's my second in a list of 3 reasons why I might like a particular song, I believe that it probably holds the lead on sheer quantity of songs that fall into it.

   I have a LOT of 3 out of 5 star songs in my iTunes account.


   The most important reason that I tend to like certain songs lies in how much I personally enjoy singing that song.  Singers like Brian McKnight and Sam Smith and Boyz II Men intrigue me because of the absolutely masterful control they have over the movement of range in their voices.  That alone is probably the most emulated quality for me.  It is definitely the one that makes me the most jealous.

   Outside of the movement, there's the range itself.  Rascall Flatts (high), Trace Adkins (low), and once again...Sam Smith (a mix of the two plus outstanding falsetto)...are a perfect example of the lows and highs of range that I love to try to attain when I sing along with them.  There are even numerous female artists that I enjoy singing along with because the range isn't too astronomically high for me to attain.

   The Judds...never fit any of those categories for my musical tastes as a younger music fan.

   But, The Judds do fit a 4th category that has surfaced for me in the last 10 years:

   Nostalgia.

   What I've found in the last few months is that I was very, very wrong about how the first 3 categories applied to a band like The Judds.

   Unfortunately, it wasn't enough and this song is the closest, as a band, that they'll get to the list.

   Their 1988 single, "Turn It Loose" is the only example I'd need to give of how their sound is reason enough for me to like a lot of their music.  You can accuse The Judds of quite a bit but you can't accuse them of not being Country.  Their sound is the epitome of good Country...its history, its outside influences and especially its evolution in the 80's.

  

   For the #2 reason, the list of lyrics that I like spans so many of their songs that I can't list them all.  It's not tied up in singular lines within the song.  It's often the message of an entire song like, "Grandpa (Tell Me 'Bout the Good Ol' Days), or "Love is Alive" or, as I mentioned earlier, "Mama He's Crazy".  They do what I've noted, several times over, that a true Country song must do; they tell  stories.

   Where they suffer in making my lists over the years, is that they never really fit the number 1 reason that I'm drawn to. I can't sing with them. Because of this, not one Judds' song ever clicked on all cylinders for me.

   But, then there's that nostalgia factor and the rabbit hole that it can send you down when one song on the Classic Country station takes you back. That song leads to another one and another one and another one. 2 hours later you're sitting alone somewhere realizing that you've listened to every preview snippet on iTunes for every Judds' song ever recorded.

   Then you remember that The Judds' break-up wasn't the end of their story.

She Is His Only Need (1992)
Wynonna
Wynonna
Click on that glorious, Aqua-net hairspray soaked, early '90's poofed up hair-do for today's lyrics ...
   I didn't know that I was a fan of The Judds until much later in life. I did know that I wasn't a fan of Wynonna as a solo artist. I do know, now, that I'm still not.

   I don't care for her husky, growling tones. I don't care for the rockabilly sound that, I believe, led to the ultimate demise of her solo Country career. I just wasn't a fan and Wynonna never resonated with me.

   But, during my Judds' music search a couple of months ago, I found this one Wynonna song that I had forgotten about entirely.

   Wynonna could tell a story. She could belt a soft ballad like very few others could. She was, at her core, Country...even though you couldn't always tell it based on all of the musical decisions that were made during her solo career.

   This song, although I never realized it, hit all the right notes.

   And that's the beauty of nostalgia. It makes you go back and it makes you open the chest and look inside at all the things you put there so long ago. And in doing so, you're reminded of superbly crafted stories like this one...

Sunday, September 30, 2018

#336 - Angels Cry Above

   I can honestly say I've thoroughly enjoyed the juxtaposition of posts like the one from yesterday.  To say that the song and the event aren't clearly linked would be false.  They are eternally intertwined.  But, as vehemently as I can dislike the majority of everything that is Creed and as much as I have to admit that "With Arms Wide Open" is the "South Arkansas bleached blond step-cousin that still owes you $100 that you're never going to get back" of music's sordid family tree, I can't ever untangle that it has a significant impact for me as a father.  Or, more importantly, it did as as a want-to-be-a-dad-one-day non-father.

Kinda crazy that I found this by searching for "South Arkansas
Bleached Blond Step-Cousin.  I mean, I did have to scroll
for a very long time but, sure enough, there this lady was.
Anywho...click her for the lyrics...or any other twisted reason
you might have
   Sentimentally speaking, it's stuck with me all these years and probably always will.

   Honestly speaking, the song sucks.  The lyrics suck.  The music sucks.  The video super-sucks.  Creed pretty much sucks.

   There are some other songs I've covered that suck.  I can assure you, there are far suckier songs careening in your direction if you plan to follow my project here.

   Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Musical beauty is no different.  Except its in the ear...of the...behearer...or something.

   I can share these songs with a straight face and call them what they genuinely are without negating the fact that they have immense nostalgia for me in most cases.  They mean something to me.  Every single person that might ever read this will have many similar songs.  Guilty pleasures, we like to call them.

   To be fair though, I warned you...way back in my first post explaining what this blog would be for the next year.  My words were...

   "Top 40 hits, bubblegum pop, remakes, remixes and rare B-sides all bumbling along together."

   Hindsight being what it is, I DO see now that I should have included "stadium rock, ungrungy grunge, movie soundtrack fodder and both countryful and countryless country".  (***Author's Note: Ungrungy Grunge is in no way associated with Unskinny Bop.  You should be ashamed for thinking it might be.  Tsk, tsk.)

   I also should have included, "Influential songwriters that can kinda sing and sometimes feel the need to not just be songwriters". That category would pretty much just include this one dude.

The Day (That You Gave Me A Son) (1996)
The Day
Babyface
If you don't know who this is right now...
you're forgiven...
but not after your read this.
   Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds. Besides the obvious album listed here, can you name another? No? What about one of his songs? "When Can I See You"? Ok, well played. Now, can you name a second Babyface song?

   And, if you can name any of his other songs, go Google that song and see if you got the actual title right.

   Chances are, if you're like me, you probably call all of the songs from Babyface that you vaguely remember from the 90's by some version of a title that you've come up with in your own head instead of by what it's actually called.

   It's perfectly understandable if you don't know many, or any, of Babyface's 14 albums between 1986 and 2014. Or, even if you don't know any of the 19 singles he's released.

   But, I assure you...you know Babyface.  Whether you realize it or not.

   For instance, you young whippersnappers probably know this one...


   And, you probably know this one...


   And, this one...


   And, if not, you definitely know this one where she actually SAYS HIS NAME IN THE LYRICS!


 
You middle aged farts might not know those examples. I only knew one of them myself.

But, y'all will definitely know this one with the guys dancing in front of a bunch of Window's '98 Screensavers...


   Ok...still nothing for some of you?  

Let's try jumping out the R&B genre and back to Pop.  

How about this one?



   Good!  Now, for the old farts such as myself.  How about this R&B classic?



   And, a personal favorite, here...

 

   Even you Senior Citizens that went to High School in the 80's...there's something here for you as well.  

Like this one...



   And his wife...


   That is just 10 examples of the nearly 400 songs he's written or co-written in the last 35 years! That's over 11 songs a year. I couldn't write 11 songs during the course of the rest of my life even if I could hop in a Delorean and go back in time 35 years.

   And these 10 examples aren't the absolute best of what Babyface has written (and often produced). They were just the 10 blindingly obvious examples that I was pretty sure everyone would know 8 or 9 of. The overall list of songs, and accolades from those songs, is simply staggering.

   The song in today's post fits a personal scenario that I've talked about on a couple of occasions. I bought this cd at a bargain bin out of boredom one day specifically for "How Come, How Long" a duet with Stevie Wonder that I had seen the video for a few years before. However, after getting the cd home and listening to it on repeat everyday for hours at a time, it was the non-single, title track that stood out.


   I could go on for hours about the significance of this song to me. But, I think I did enough of getting into my personal life on yesterday's post. There's not much I've left to the imagination regarding how I feel about my children or my role as their father.

   So, I'll sum up today's post with the truest lyrics I've ever heard of what its like to become a parent. Lyrics that still put a lump in my throat and make my eyes water every single time that I hear them.

   On this day, 15 years after I laid eyes on my son for the first time, they're still as true as they ever were...

"It's like a song, I've never heard,
I've never sung, but know the words"

Saturday, September 29, 2018

#337 - It Seems My Life, Is Going To Change

   The greater majority of what I need to say about this band has already been said.  In case you missed it, or in the event that you need a refresher, please check out the link for the Staind entry "So, This is It".  And, even more so, you'll need to be familiar with "I Was Waiting on a Different Story", a post I wrote about Nickelback being the most hated band of all time.

   The band in today's post is probably more legitimately hated, musically and culturally speaking, than Nickelback.  They've just been broken up so long that the meme-creators of today's generation aren't terribly familiar.

Check out Grunge on Youtube
   It might seem insane that a band that, according to Wikipedia, "...sold over 28 million records in the United States, over 53 million albums worldwide, and was the ninth best-selling artist of the 2000s" could be even remotely "hated".  But, then again, I think there may be more obvious reasons for Creed hate than there are for hating a band like Nickelback.

   In the Nickelback post, that I linked above, I shared the video that I'm retreading below.  In that video, I knew absolutely NOTHING about any of the reasons they gave for why the general public hates on Nickelback.  I'm not saying they're wrong.  It just didn't factor into the equation for me.  I don't think it did for most people.

   I'll stand behind my reasoning being that we only hate Nickelback because of the mob mentality we tend to get caught up with in today's social media-driven world.


   If you "hate" the band Creed, I think you have little more justification.

   Creed came along at a time when the Grunge music, in it's purest form, was on the decline. They were one of many bands that followed the mainstream path that true, early '90's Grunge music tried to avoid. This new "Post-Grunge" sound was hated by many rock purists. Not only for their sound but for their message. I personally think it had quite a bit to do with their Lead Singer's public persona as well.

   For many non-religious rock fans, Creed's music was not a viable option for purchase. For many devoted Christians that enjoyed secular Rock music, lead singer Scott Stapp's constantly displayed bad behavior led them to see him as hypocritical to the religious leanings of his music. Creed lost fans on that front as well.

   Creed was one of a handful of bands that, over the years, blurred the lines between Christian and Secular genres. Their heavy handed lyrics and accompanying music videos kept music fans guessing.

   For everyone in the middle, Creed was simply overplayed. Period. Their music wasn't terrible, Stapp's singing wasn't the worst. Creed had musical talent and the record sales I mentioned above prove it. But, Creed suffered from the fact that their music was in our faces everywhere we went.

   Creed's own popularity was a significant part of their undoing. It watered down their appeal. It bored the listener to hear them at every turn.

   Today's song, in particular, is the best example in Creed's entire discography for why this is true.

With Arms Wide Open (1999)
Human Clay
Creed
The lyrics
  I am personally guilty of owning 6 Creed songs. 4 from the album listed here and 2 from their older, 1997 album titled My Own Prison. If you're on the fence about whether Creed overplayed their Christianity card, come grab this left side earbud and listen to "My Own Prison" and "What's This Life For" with me.  Either is example enough.

   Before we move on, this is the ONLY Creed song on the list. And that is entirely due to the subject matter of the song and the point in my life when it came around. If it weren't for that nostalgic sentimentality, Creed would not have made this list.

   The album released in 1999, 27 days after my 20th birthday. The single radio release of this song followed it almost 7 months later. Or, better said, about 5 months before my 21st birthday.

   During that time, I underwent the single biggest transition of my life (up until that point).
Now, here's a Creed
we can all agree on...
   My entire life through high school had been one of staunch religious upbringing. In my 20's, I found myself veering further and further away from that person that I had been. I made a lot of mistakes, a lot of declarations, a lot of promises and a lot of strides towards finding who I was.

   It was easy for me, back then, to understand the struggles that Scott Stapp portrayed in Creed's music. I was going through them too. I wasn't an addict, of any sort, but anyone that was outside looking in must have assumed that I was trying to be.

   There was a constant struggle between finding my footing along the blurry lines between being religious and not. Between being good and not. Between holding it together and becoming the man I was destined to be or jettisoning it all over the side of the cliff.

   There were many sober moments for me where I cursed the traditions and the rules and what I came to view as the hypocrisy of my upbringing.

   There were just as many moments that, in a drunken stupor, I slurred an unintelligibly tearful prayer upwards in the general direction of any God that would listen. I always had the same stupid question to ask; why I was in the destitute place that I had put myself. I would wake up on all of those "next mornings" feeling like a moron and knowing it was my own prison I was begging for escape from.

   By nightfall, I'd repeat the process all over again like a much angstier, redneck version of Bill Murray from the movie Groundhog's Day.

   Through all of those dark times of self-realization, of self denial, of self-acceptance there was only one constant. There was only one beacon in the distance, a light shining bright, that had been there for all of my life. A face I'd never seen. A voice I'd never heard. There was a higher purpose, a calling, on my life that pushed me to where I was and that also pulled me back.

   I was born to be the one and only thing I've truly ever wanted to be. A dad. It was my Destiny. My calling. It was my greatest fear and my greatest hope. And, one day, it became my greatest reality.



   15 years ago today, this song was on the forefront of every thought I had. It was playing in the background of my brain like a soundtrack for every step I was taking.

   15 years ago today, I had no idea that the next morning...it would all come to pass for me when my first son, my best friend, my reason for being would come into the world 3 weeks earlier than he was supposed to.

   15 years ago today I was just a guy. I'd lain down most of my crutches and I had said goodbye to almost all of my vices. Just knowing that my son would soon be a reality was enough for me to lay down all of those frivolous things that I no longer needed to cope.

   15 years ago today, the old Jason was no more. I woke up the next day as Connor's dad.

   And for all of Creed's downfalls and for all of Scott Stapp's hypocrisies...I have this song to thank, along with several others, for helping me to make it safely to that place that I was always supposed to be...

   15 years ago today...




Friday, September 28, 2018

#338 - When You Check It Out

   Stevie Wonder is one of three musicians that fall into a very unique category for me.  Willie Nelson and Billy Joel are the other two.

   They each have the distinction of being artists that I didn't care for (borderline hated) in my younger days. 

   And, before I move on, I have no idea what genre to tag this one with.  A solid argument could be made for about 5 or 6 different ones.  I settled on R&B. 

   Willie Nelson's voice was too warbly and inconsistent.  His guitar picking was, fairly speaking, pretty outstanding and yet simplistic.  Is he folk? Is he country?  Many years later, with all of the covers he released, is he Pop?  His lyrics, safely said, were on par with his generation.
The Man...
   Billy Joel was a caricature of a musician.  He wasn't a visionary, he wasn't an outstanding vocalist.  He was, in all fairness, a phenom of a piano player.  But, hey, a piano is not guitar and it didn't resonate with me back then.  And his lyrics, too, were on par with his generation.
The Myth...
   Stevie Wonder was the punchline for a bunch of offensive blind jokes (I'm a straight, white, southern male from the 80's, remember?) His music was roller-rink, couples-only fodder.  His harmonica playing, if I'm being honest, was exemplary and usually the only thing that perked my ears enough to stop me from what I was doing to listen for a few seconds.
The Legend.
   His lyrics, though...his lyrics were beyond anything and everything his generation was producing.

   Problem is, I didn't grow up in the 70's and, therefore, was not influenced by those lyrics until much later in life.

   And, in keeping with the tradition I've set forth thus far in these early posts, this song is a terrible example of that point:

Don't You Worry 'bout a Thing (1974)
Innervisions
Stevie Wonder
The Lyrics
   "Don't You Worry 'bout a Thing" is the first of two Stevie Wonder songs that will grace this list.  I don't know that there is anything all that groundbreaking with his lyrics here.  But, that sound!  There's so much going inside there!

   The next Stevie song is THE song that led me to start listening to his music a couple of years ago.  We'll revisit that topic next July.  Those lyrics are some that we'll get into a bit deeper.

   Honestly, this particular song might not have even made the list had it not been for Tori Kelly's version from the recent children's movie, Sing.  Somehow, I had never really listened to the words until a kid movie slowed it down and caught my ear.



   Since then, if you catch me somewhere in the last 4-5 miles of my trip to work every Friday morning, you'll see the windows rolled down and hear the Stevie version pumping out the windows of my car.  This song has become my, "Come on...only 1 more day to go!" song.

   It's been several years now since I've come to appreciate and love Stevie Wonder's music, just as I have the Red Headed Stranger's and the Piano Man's.


BONUS VIDEO!
One of the best episodes of James Corden's Carpool Karaoke!

Thursday, September 27, 2018

#339 - Let Me Tell You How It Goes

   Hello, Reader, I want to play a game.  It's similar to the game you play in your shower and in your
car and at the bar when you're sitting alone having a drink and waiting for a friend to arrive, the game of acting like you know the lyrics to that song you're singing along with.  I think we can agree that your situation is not solitary to you, but I'm going to offer you a chance to see me make a fool out of myself publicly in order to better you.  By entering this post, you have....

Gettin' Jig(saw)gy with it...
never mind
   Ok, I'm done.  Sorry, that was a terrible entrance to this post and a reference that many might not even get.  If you know that fella to the left there and you've seen his movies...you know where that line comes from.  If not, it was just a terrible intro.

   However, the truth of the matter is...you know you don't actually know the real lyrics to that song you're singing along with.  You know you don't.

   For the longest time, as an example, all I could hear was...

"Few times I been around that track
Somasomptosombondonnabendbackdack
Cause I ain't no holla' back girl"



   And because that's what I heard, I didn't even attempt to learn the real lyrics. My way was more fun.

   You know you sang, "Money for Nothing and the chips for free" and "Excuse me while I kiss this guy" and, most importantly, "Kicking your cat all over the place!"

   And it's not just secular music. You church-going folk probably sang, "Bringing in the sheets", didn't you?

   So, in that vein, for today's post I will relay to you my version of the lyrics for the following song and then we'll compare it to the actual lyrics to see how far off base I am.

No Diggity (1996)
Another Level
Blackstreet
...the rest...of the story...
If you do like "No Diggity"...
you might want to read this...
   Actually, we won't be doing that today.

   After typing out all of the lyrics to both verses from memory and then comparing them to the actual printed lyrics I found over at this place I discovered that it was a colossal waste of time.

   Surprisingly, I got almost every single word correct! And the ones that I missed were only slight variations that could be forgiven.

   The problem is not that I don't know what they're saying. It's that I don't KNOW WHAT ANY OF IT MEANS. Therefore, it sounded very wrong in my head.

   And don't think you're off the hook, either. You know this mostly applies to you as well. No? Ok, then define what the heck "Diggity" is without asking Siri.

   That's what I thought.

   Regardless of the failure of this post, I would say that No Diggity is, by no stretch of the imagination, universally considered to be a success throughout the majority of the music world. If I've ever met anyone that doesn't care for this song...they weren't vocal to me about it.

   And, if you do like this song, you might want to take a minute to click on ol' Straight-Jacket Slim Shady here. It could change your mind.


BONUS VIDEO
   No Diggity samples this old Bill Wither's song, Grandma's Hands.  It's kinda difficult to hear on this live version...