Back in the day my dad like most had a stereo with a turntable and a small but respectable collection of LPs and 45s from his younger years. The Kinks, Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, Steppenwolf, The Doors, all the usual classic rock suspects could be found and I gravitated to them in my blossoming teen angst, moth-to-flame. There was the 45 of “Born To Be Wild” which I gave plenty of play, but I always thought “Magic Carpet Ride” was the superior song. “Born To Be Wild” always felt a little stiff and a little forced for its rebellious status. On the other hand, “Magic Carpet Ride” has a fluid groove that pulls you in straight away and never feels anything but on point. Is the titular “Magic Carpet Ride” a drug trip, the epitome of turn on, tune, in, drop out culture? Is it a thinly veiled metaphor for sex and free love? Why not both?Given it was released in ‘68 I’m assuming all of the above.
Dance to it. Get high to it. Screw to it. If that’s not rock’n’roll I don’t know what is.
I really dig the dirty groove of this song. It triggers a skewed smile and tempered head bob that from me indicates a song is “in the pocket” as the hep jazz cats say. The Scott Pilgrim flick is one of my guilty pleasure movies and this is probably my favorite song from the soundtrack. The lyrics are oddly sexual, like euphemisms that no one has ever wanted or used, but still kind of work. Thanks Beck, you gigantic weirdo.
This song always takes me back to the summer my family drove all the way from the Dirty Jerz to Disney World. My sister and I sat in the backseat running through a repeated cycle of annoying each other then ignoring each other then playing Boggle then playing the license plate game and then napping. My dad swapped between playing cassettes and surfing through the radio as he drove. It felt like “Everybody Wants To Rule The World” was always playing on some station and I truly never got tired of hearing it. This song will always make me think of the summers of childhood that seemed so much longer than three months. It holds the pleasantly distorted memories of not just summer, but cinematic summer where everything is moving at half speed drenched in golden hour sunlight. My family is all laughing and smiling and the world is amazing because holyfuckingshit we’re going to Disney World! This distinct vision that I retain decades later is due in no small part to the fact that this song plays at the very end of the movie Real Genius over the infamous popcorn scene which has both slo-mo cavorting and golden hour lighting. Mind you Real Genius is a touchstone film of my childhood for several reasons including but not limited to letting me know there was hope for bespectacled dorks like myself to be cool, establishing Val Kilmer as an inspiration of aforementioned coolness, and setting into motion my lifelong proclivity for nerdy, dark haired, socially awkward girls.
So yeah, if you could distill all the joy and hope of 10 year old me down to 4 minutes and 11 seconds this song is it.
The official video:
“The Last Time” isn’t a dancefloor stomper by any means with its tight, chill groove, but you can really lean into it and move without a second thought. It straight up makes me do the white man overbite and shake muh ass! CeeLo begs me to take stock of my life and ask the truly deep question: “When, exactly, was the last time I danced?” The answer is probably the last time I was making Friday night pizza with my second 7&7 in hand and my iPod shuffling out some similarly diggable beats. If you burned out on “Crazy” way back when, do yourself a favor and give this deep cut a listen.
I’ve got a playlist on my iPod named “Feelin’ Good” that I turn to when I need a little pep in my step or when I’m already hopped up and want it to keep going. Every Friday I’ll be posting a song from that playlist to help get the weekend started. This inaugural Feelin’ Good Friday post is in honor of recent world events.
The staccato drum roll that kicks off “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It” is one of those sonic signatures that was burned into my brain and allows me to confidently identify this song within half a second of hearing it. Peter Buck’s loose-limbed guitar jangle and Mike Mills’ bopping bass has been putting a smile on my face for 3 decades. The inscrutable yet catchy lyrics sung by Michael Stipe with focused abandon are icing on this spastic cake. Really, it just feels good to pogo around the room with this blasting and yell, “Leonard Bernstein!” If this song is any indication, I for one welcome the End Times with open arms. #IFeelFine