The other night we ran out of something that we needed desperately for some
valuable reason I can’t recall (and don’t
ask me what it was—maybe it was milk or butter…or motor oil? D batteries, perhaps? I don’t know…) and as my husband reached
for his keys, I practically tackled him to the floor to get out the door first.
As I crawled across his limp body, I was all “Hey honey, sorry about that—don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart! Let me get this one for you. You just stay
here and relax…with the kids.”
I was halfway down the driveway before he had pulled himself up enough to
salute my generosity with the extension of his middle finger as our daughters
leapt upon his back, regaling him with stories from their day and pleas for
play time. An image of insects devouring
their paralyzed prey flashed in my head.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I
adore my children. I would lay my life
down for them in an instant, without hesitation. They are perfect, precious—extraordinary in
every way. But sometimes, mommy needs a
minute of solitude for the sake of her sanity, you know? I decided to drown out the guilty voices
inside my head by cranking the radio.
It was one of those lovely, late summer, purply-pink-pre-twilight times,
where slices of sunlight still streaked the western sky, melting the day into
the night; at about 83 degrees, it was cool enough to put the windows down and blast
the tune that slid through the speakers—Don Henley’s “Boys of Summer”.
In that moment, as my hair whipped against my cheeks and my left arm found
the beat against the exterior of the driver’s side door, I wasn’t a mom or a
wife or a homeowner with bills and health care concerns and fifteen pounds that
just would not go away (no matter how
much I reduced my chicken McNugget intake)—I was transformed. I was just a kid, hearing this song for the
very first time on a similar summer night a lifetime ago—looking forward to back-to-school
clothes shopping, seeing which friends were going to be in my classes, lusting
after new crushes…just a kid with nothing to lose and everything before her.
It. Was. Awesome.
I returned home—with my milk or my butter or my batteries or whatever it
was—a new woman.
Refreshed.
There’s just something about an amazing summer song, isn’t there? Summer songs represent change—they mark the transitions
in life: Elementary to middle. Middle to
high. High to college. First love to next love. Best friends to new friends. Agony to ecstasy—and back again. More than birthdays, more than New Year’s Eve
celebrations…for me, it is the memories of summers spent that I pull out of the
recollection box of my mind—accompanied by their incredible soundtracks—that
became the indelible benchmarks for the significant stages of my life.
To paraphrase the timeless wisdom of LFO’s “Summer Girls” (please
tell me that you do see the tongue, firmly planted in the cheek, right???):
“Summer songs come and summer songs
go—some are worthwhile and some are so-so.”
Sometimes the value of a great summer song lies in nothing more than a
catchy hook (take Shaggy’s ridiculous
“It Wasn’t Me”, Will Smith’s infectious “Gettin’
Jiggy Wit It”, Haddaway’s absurd
“What is Love”, Deana Carter’s irritating
“Strawberry Wine”, Ginuwine’s mortifying
“Pony”…or any number of the countless
blissfully ignorant throwaway tunes from virtually everyone’s summer
experiences) but sometimes, there is so much more to a great summer song
than you may even realize until you are old and running away and hiding from
your family at dinnertime to purchase items you cannot even recall just to have
a second to yourself.
Summer songs, regardless of genre, are about three things only: fun, love,
or loss. Fun songs are as easy to find
as they are to lose—they are not forgettable, but after a time, you find
yourself rolling your eyes and changing the station as quickly as possible when
they come on. The ones that stand the test of time usually require a direct hit
to your head or to your heart—but these are more difficult to define because
your response to them depends wholly upon who you are and where you’re
from. This got me to thinking about my
soundtrack for the summer of 2012—according to the Mayans, our final year
together on the planet. Now at the final
chapter of this season, I am left to ponder: Were the songs that dominated our
sun-soaked attention spans built to last?
Maybe. Here are a baker’s dozen
that I think measured up—or will at least keep the summertime memories alive until
the comet or zombie apocalypse wipes us out on December 21st.
In no particular order:
1)
fun., feat. Janelle Monae—“We are Young”: Stop
trying to escape this song. Don’t run
from it; give in to its hypnotic charms.
At some point, we all thought we were invincible and that we would live
forever. This infinitely sing-able testament
to the delusional impregnability of youth is not whining—it is calling out to
those living in that moment, hearkening them to hang on to it with everything
they have. As for the rest of us, it’s a
bittersweet reminder that Mellencamp was right—we should have held on to
sixteen for as long as we could; those changes that made us women and men came
around a hell of a lot sooner than many of us expected, didn’t they?
(Runner up, for all the very same reasons: Adam Lambert—“Never Close Our Eyes”)
2)
AIR—“Cosmic Trip”/ “Sonic Armada”: Okay, so if you don’t think French new wave
electronica might be your thing…perhaps you should stop being such a normal person and tap into your inner
pretentious ass, hmmm? No,
seriously. They’re amazing—always have
been. You’ve heard their music countless
times (I discovered them in that 1999 Heath
Ledger gem, “10 Things I Hate About You”, which led me to AIR’s sublime album, “Moon
Safari”), and while their new album is more conceptual and not as divine, sometimes
the summer just calls for a great piece of moody music that is sexy, mindless,
goodness (e.g. Enigma, Dirty Vegas, Portishead, Basement Jaxx). I don’t speak French, so they could honestly
be singing about toilet paper and athlete’s foot, but I’d still chill to their
sound—they’re just that good.
Let me put it to you this way: if you like
the entrancing rhythms and dulcet tones of Ellie Goulding’s “Lights”, you’re
already halfway there. It’s time for you
to step away from Nicki Minaj’s starship (which
you and I both know is infinitely inferior to her transcendent 2011 single,
“Super Bass”, anyway) and get some fresh AIR. (ßSee what
I did there?)
 |
| Don't worry; no rockstars were harmed. |
3)
Linkin Park—“Burn it Down”: Why
is this song on my list? Because they’re
Linkin-effin’-Park,
people. Don’t make me explain this one—they’re
the sole survivors of a dying genre and this new single does not disappoint. Don’t get me started on what the hell
happened to contemporary/ alternative rock or what malevolent force was behind
its genocide; suffice it to say, we should celebrate its survivors—especially
when they still produce excellent music.
Every summer soundtrack needs a fist pumping, head banger—this is as
close as you can get anymore.
(My honorable mention in this category goes
to my beloved band, The Black Keys,
for their superb new song, “Gold on the
Ceiling”. I gave this one to Linkin
Park only because I’ve heard it about a hundred more times, so it’s embedded in
my brain. I’m sure The Black Keys will
catch up in no time.)
4)
Mac Miller—“Missed Calls”: So, I’m
probably going to take a lot of heat for this one, but bear with me. The Pennsylvania native is about the hardest
working, self-promoting kid I’ve ever seen.
He didn’t have the backing of Bieber or the Disney machine to create his
identity for him. Mac Miller has been
making mixtapes of his laid-back raps about the simple joys of youth—you know,
the deep stuff, like Kool-Aid, pizza, and purple kush—since he was fifteen
years old. Fifteen. [Do you want to know what I
was doing at fifteen years old? Writing
“Mrs. Anthony Rippy” on my geometry folder with a sparkly glitter pen and
thinking about going to the mall to check out the new selection of “Guess”
jeans.] This kid is a beast.
The last couple of years have found the
scrappy little rapper quietly growing in popularity and maturity (his adorable doo-woppy ode to the lovability
of young people, “Knock, Knock”, was
one of my very favorite songs last year)—though he is probably best known
for his rhymes about the king of the comb-over, Donald Trump. While Miller is often compared to a young
Eminem, I don’t see it. He doesn’t
seethe and his rhymes aren’t that tight; however, now, at twenty, I see a baby
Beastie Boy experimenting with his skills and cultivating his talents under the
tutelage of a host of quality hip-hop influences like Wiz, Pharrell, and Weezy. I’m keeping my eye on him and inviting you to
do the same.
 |
| This kid has got to hate old people like me who find him completely adorable. |
In Mac’s honor, I bestow my second place
award upon: Gym Class Heroes, feat. Ryan
Tedder—“The Fighter” (which, coincidentally, I thought was rapped by Mac Miller the first time that I
heard the song.)
5)
The Killers—“Runaways”: I’ll
admit—I’m new to The Killers. I
completely missed their 2008 album (might
have had something to do with my creating and birthing and nurturing a new baby
or some other such nonsense), so I am dutifully kicking my own ass for arriving
so late to this celebration. But now
that I’m here, let me start by placing the nearest lampshade on my head,
getting hammered, and dancing on a tabletop—I will be the life of the party. This new single in particular, is excellent—it
brings to mind all the elements of early U2, quality rock and romance that you
just don’t hear enough of anymore. I
said the best summer songs involved love or loss—this song commemorates both.
 |
| We get it, Alex. You're just not that into us anymore. |
6)
Alex Clare—“Too Close”: Yeah, yeah, the Microsoft commercial song. Screw that.
Look, let’s be frank. We’ve all
been out driving around and noted that the vehicle beside us was vibrating, pulsating, with music stressing the
limits of its speakers, its driver, blissfully unaware of our embarrassed
observations as they belt out some tune with childish abandon, right? Well…if it was this summer, it was probably this
song. (And, YES. It was probably me.)
In the absence of new work from my favorite
trip-hop band of all time—Massive Attack—Alex Clare’s ambitious amalgam of
blues, funk, and electronica have made this British soul man my go-to guy all
summer. Every song off his 2011 album
“The Lateness of the Hour” is beyond delicious; its prize jewel, “Too Close”,
is no emo-heartbreak-crybaby crap. Clare
is clear—it’s not him, it’s you—and he’s just fine with that, thank
you very much. Perfectly satisfied being
the anti-hero, every beat of this infinitely listenable song punctuates a step
he takes in the opposite direction from the one who made the mistake of loving
him. You know, everyone deserves a
fabulous, ass-kicking breakup/ burn song at least once in their lifetime—if
this is you, this is that song.
7)
Kenny Chesney—“Come Over”: If you
know me, you know modern country is
not really my thing. So much so, that
I’ll admit that I’ve analogized it with beating bags of sick cats against
broken glass walls. Author and comedian Michael
Ian Black recently observed: “Every mentally handicapped person I have ever
known prefers country music.” He
stressed, “I’m not saying you have to be mentally handicapped to enjoy country
music, just that it helps.” To be clear,
HIS words, not mine; don’t kill the messenger.
My point?
Oh, yeah—don’t you ever say that I can’t be open-minded and fair,
because here I am, throwing you a bone. While
Chesney’s “Come Over” doesn’t touch Lady Antebellum’s “Need You Now”, I will
admit that this song (despite the limitations of its genre) is actually catchy,
breezily romantic, and hopeful. And if
we’re going to be honest, what more could I ask of a summer song? (But you still better love me for reaching so
far outside of my comfort zone for this one.
You owe me.)
2nd Place: Eric Church—“Springsteen” (To quote the woefully underrated cinematic
masterpiece, “Showgirls”: “It
doesn’t suck.”)
8)
Gotye, feat. Kimbra—“Somebody That I Used to Know”: Breakups make for such powerful summer
song fodder, don’t they? The epic
“he-said/ she-said” agonizing over who-done-who-wrong has massive universal
appeal—and this absolutely unavoidable song (seriously, just try to run from it—it WILL find you, wherever you hide)
perfectly captures every human being’s neurotic compulsion to be perceived as
the “wronged” party at the end of a relationship. All the elements are here— the soothing
syncopated rhythm, the haunting refrains of Gotye’s grief (his voice, lilting like an pre-solo career Sting), Kimbra’s
gorgeous, measured response to his brooding self-absorption—for the perfect
summer song (that is substantially
superior to Katy Perry’s “Wide Awake”).
I only wish I found the rest of Gotye’s catalogue as appealing as this
song—but if it does end up being a one-off, I won’t whine about it. I’ll always be grateful for the memory. It’s not like I’ll pen a ditty called “A Song
That I Used to Know” or anything like that.
9)
GROUPLOVE—“Tongue Tied”: In spite of the shouty-capitals in their band name, this song is pleasingly adorable
and surprisingly effervescent. I love an
indie-band that doesn’t take itself too seriously—and in the case of GROUPLOVE,
it would be good if they didn’t, because I predict that they will be completely
forgotten in approximately five years (seriously,
if you remember the name of this band in the year 2017, you come find me and I
will pay you five dollars. I have a
notary standing by as witness), but then again, who cares? We need stuff to dance to in our flip flops
and cocoa butter. “Tongue Tied” is about
as nutritive and filling as a spoonful of sherbet, but on a hot summer day,
what could be better?
 |
| Michael debuts his "Blue Steel". "Magnum" is still in the works. |
10) George Michael—“White Light”: To understand this selection, you must know
something about my love for all that is George Michael—from his exuberant days
as the sexy half of Wham!, to his mind-blowing (and hormone-exploiting) album, “Faith”, to his devastatingly
resplendent album, “Older”, (which, to
this day, if I had to select only ten albums to listen to for the rest of my
life would definitely make the cut) this fabulously talented man has
created gorgeous musical snapshots for every stage of my life, from the
irresponsible ecstasy of adolescence to the heavier reflections of an aging
heart.
“White Light” is no exception. Yes, I’ll admit that when I first heard this
song, I shared with a friend that it sounded like a dubstep redux of a
mid-nineties Depeche Mode track. But
then I listened again. And again. And again.
That is George Michael’s gift…he gets under your skin and in no time at
all, his music is running through your blood and living in your heart. At its very least, “White Light” is a simple
summer club banger—but at its best, it is a testimonial to survival, by someone
who’s lived hard enough to tell the tale with a measure of authenticity.
11) Phil Philips—“Home”: Yes, I know, haters gon’ hate, especially if you’re one of the millions of
poo-poo-ers who resent the American Idol machine (you know, the system that rewards the red necked, the white
skinned, or the bluesy-acoustic
guitar)—but gosh-darn-it, don’t
take it out on the kids! I never read Phil’s
“awww, shucks” lopsided grin as
insincere or contrived—in fact, I believe that, in time, he may turn out to be
the real thing. While many disparage him
for his limited range, comparing him to a discount Dave Matthews or a baby Bob
Seger—I think his performance on “Home” hints at a contemporary Simon and
Garfunkel.
Look. I can still feel you fuming at me as
you read this, believing it blasphemous for me to make the American Idol winner
the only indie-folk rock selection on my summer list, so I’ll just smile bashfully,
shuffle my feet, and stare at the floor as I remind you that you have the rest
of your lives to listen to Mumford & Sons, Fleet Foxes, and Bon Iver—why
not give a few of your summer days to a sweetly endearing love song? They’re rarer than you may realize.
 |
| Not just another pretty voice. MoZella's hot, too. |
12) MoZella—“Change”: I discovered MoZella quite by accident. I’m not embarrassed to admit it: she was a recommended
selection from my Adele station on Pandora—but one song was all it took to snag
my heart and make it hers. I’ve been gushing
about her for weeks, trying to get anyone and everyone to listen to this
sweetly smoky-voiced, retro chanteuse.
If Adele, Dusty Springfield, Duffy (what
ever happened to Duffy?), and Christina Perri had a love child, MoZella
would be their holy progeny. “Change”, her most recent song, is that perfect,
late-summer brand of sentimental reflection on the ever changing nature of our
existence—a bittersweet farewell with the tiny twist of hope.
[P.S. Listen,
I’m not a demanding person, but considering that Adele is off making her
wonder-baby, Dusty Springfield is leading the choir in heaven, Duffy is
apparently missing in action, and Christina Perri has settled for being a
two-hit (at least, for now) wonder, how’s about we all get this woman into a studio and making some amazing new music, shall
we?]
So, the definition of a “baker’s dozen” implies a thirteenth something, right? A freebie to reward your loyal patronage? Any guesses about your bonus summer song? I’m sure you noted how many radio edit
top-40’s I blew off, right? What will it
be…what will it be? Pitbull’s “Back in
Time”? Maroon 5’s “Payphone”? Pink’s “Blow Me (One Last Kiss)”? Usher’s “Scream”? Oh,
come on—it’s too easy:
13) Carly Rae Jepsen—“Call Me Maybe”: Manifest.
Pervasive. Infectious. Three words given more often to blood-borne
pathogens than candy-coated pop confectionary, but if the bio-hazardous
descriptors fit…
Not since Billy Ray Cyrus (you remember, Miley’s mulletted daddy?)
served up his 1992 mega-hit “Achy Breaky Heart” have I seen a song so
completely devour the collective consciousness of a society quite the way that
“Call Me Maybe” has consumed ours. Thousands of spoofs—including politicians,
Olympians, artists—and countless
memes have proven that you cannot escape the tractor-beam pull of a Death Star
of this proportion.
In fact, I’d venture to posit that the
complete range of this song’s influence has yet to be measured. There is no limit to what the marketing
machine will make from our (apparently)
voracious appetite for this perky piece of pop culture. Though (thankfully) I won’t likely be around to
see it, I can almost guarantee that they’ll revive the song 40 years from now
to promote “Call Me Maybe”-themed Depend© undergarments or that Carly Rae
Jepsen will be on a reality-television celebrity dating game with Snooki, Kristen
Stewart, and Bret Michaels’ head, preserved in a jar of formaldehyde.
Love it or hate it, you can’t deny that
2012 was the year for the cute crush
song with the awkward grammar. It will
be a part of your cultural DNA long after you stopped smiling when you heard
it. You will roll your eyes and you will
deny you ever sang it. You will try to
forget it—but you will never forget the summer where it took over your world.
(But can I see it absolutely making
your day when you’re sneaking away from your noisy kids for a minute of
“me-time” and it comes on the radio twenty years from now??? Actually, yes. Yes I can. You’ll
see.)
Of course, this is only HALF the story.
For MORE on this subject, you’ve got to see what HE said @ Suburban Acrobat ...
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