I've recently become a little obsessed with Yacht Rock (I know, I'm TOTALLY late on this), so I've been meaning to hunt out covers of smooth rock. Of course, I already have a lot, but I need new stuff, you know? And lo and behold, this version of the Toto classic hit shuffle the other day and here we are.
Similarly, I've been revisiting my childhood love of Rick Springfield. I believe I thought the lyrics to this song were very deep. The whole "younger man looking at the older man" and "the older man looking at the boy" thing. What can I say, I was a kid. I don't know that it inspired me to celebrate my youth or anything, as it sure depresses me now.
I was pretty upset when I learned decades ago that this wasn't a Springfield original. Why is it that with mediocre pop stars the covers are always the rockingest?
I must admit that I cursed the Concretes for the Target ad using their "Say Something New," thereby allowing it to earworm me with such frequency that I began to despise it. Alas, they are Swedish and I love the Swedes. Not to mention disco-era Stones. So I'm all for this.
I'm not remembering who pointed me in the direction of Your Eyes Are Doves, but I wholeheartedly thank you. Or maybe I stumbled on it by myself, in which case I will remind you that I'm fucking awesome.
The Rawhide theme meets today's pop acts in German country/western coverversionen experts The BossHoss' Internashville Urban Hymns album. Listening to it all at once gets a little annoying, but a track here or there thrown onto a crazy mix CD will wow your friends. Trust me.
I'm not particularly crazy about this cover, but posting it gives me an opportunity to share one of my favorite stories, so I'm going for it:
When I worked at the Borders on Michigan Avenue back in my retail-whore days, one of my co-workers was a friendly guy named Ted who was about 10 years older than I and who was big on old-school new wave and whatnot. One day, I assisted a very friendly man with an English accent for about 10 minutes or so. When I'd sufficiently located his discs, he descended the escalator and Ted comes up to me excitedly and asks, "Do you know who that was?" I tell him, "No, but he did look slightly familiar." He answers, "That was the keyboard player from the Fixx!!!" Ah. Ted. After giggling delightedly and remarking to Ted that he's probably the only person I know who could possibly recognize the keyboard player from the FixxRupert Greenall, BTWTed brings me the Fixx CDs we have in stock and remarks that it's too bad he's gone because he'd like to have the CDs signed. I, of course, heartily admire and respect Ted's new-wave passion and offer to walk around the store and see if I can find him.
I didn't have to go far, he was in line at the cafe. I approach him and say, "I'm sorry to bother you, but my co-worker recognized you and was hoping you might sign a few CDs for him." Well, you can imagine how much Rupert Greenall gets recognized in the Statesor anywhere, for that matterand he happily comes back to the music department with me and meets Ted and signs the discs. He tells us that the Fixx is playing at the House of Blues and he asks if we'd like to be on the guest list, an offer we obviously couldn't refuse. Unfortunately, I was a bit under the weather that day and wasn't able to go, but Ted went and said he got to hang out with the band backstage and had a really cool time with one of his favorite '80s acts. And I'd wish nothing less for him because his love for music was more genuine than that of anyone else I worked with at the time. I wonder what he's up to nowadays.