Sunny, happy, playlist – 10-5-15
There is, pretty much literally, not a single critically defensible song on this week’s playlist.
Seriously, so what?
Do you know what I literally did after putting this playlist together? I listened to an old Robert Palmer LP. I mean, seriously, I listened from beginning to end to a record that practically no one bought when it came out because the zeitgeist judged it to be relentlessly average.
Do you know how much I actually, factually care?
Not at all.
See, Robert Palmer reminds me of being 13 and riding my bike aimlessly around Bay Farm Island with my walkman, listening to a tape of Robert Palmer stuff my brother-in-law made for me and daydreaming of being half as soulful and suave as the music in my ears was.
The funny thing is this is way, way before Palmer had cultivated his image as a suave lady’s man. Nope. I was hearing his voice and the groove of his music and just said to myself, “Dang, I want to be that cool.”
“That cool” in my head was the vision of the Robert Palmer I visualized because of his music. I had never actually seen a photo of the dood. I just rode around on my bike, listening to his music and his voice and thought, “This guy is the personification of sex.”
Oddly enough, he actually was.
Years later he was fronting the Duran Duran spin-off band The Power Station and when I heard about it I was one of the few people among my friends who said, “Well, of course.” John and Andy Taylor set out to create a sexy band, so they got Tony Thompson from Chic to play drums and Robert Palmer to sing and Bernard Edwards from Chic to produce. Made perfect sense to me.
But then again, I spent hours and hours of my early teen years riding my bike around while listening to a tape of a pair of Robert Palmer records most people never bought. I might have been a bit biased.
What this has to do with this week’s playlist is simply this – songs are the fundamental unit of exchange in music. Not bands. Not labels. Not even artists. If a song is excellent, it is excellent.