This song is a good joke from start to finish, but it also makes nice connections to the theory portfolio. First, it addresses the different roles of men and women when it comes to food. As a man the singer is more desperate for meat than his lady seems to be. In addition the song comments on the disparities between "food" and "health food," an interesting and vital dynamic. This one is for you Dave! :)
When I first met you baby, you fed me on chicken and wine.
It was steak and potatoes and lobster and babe I sure felt fine.
But now all you ever give me is seaweed and alfalfa sprouts
And sunflower seeds and I got my doubts -
Babe, you left me here with the Chicken Cordon Bleus.
My stomach's so empty and all I got is food for thought.
And I been sittin' here thinkin' 'bout the twenty lbs. of groceries we bought.
We bought ten lbs. of brown rice and five more of beans
And five pounds of Granola and you know what that means,
I'm just a regular fella with the Chicken Cordon Bleus.
Now won't you play me them fat licks!
You know, I'm starved for affection and babe, I can take no more.
You know this stuff is so weird that the cockroaches moved next door.
Babe, can you see that old dog, he's out in the street
He's got a big smile on his face 'cause they let him eat meat.
And babe I got you and the Chicken Cordon Bleus!
Monday
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant - Billie Joel
I selected this song mainly because it illuminates the appropriation of "Italian" discussed in the portfolio. And, I also have a soft spot for Billie Joel. Here the "romance" of the Italian restaurant is amplified, to the point that the restaurant comes in many ways to represent or define the relationship.
A bottle of white, a bottle of red
Perhaps a bottle of rose instead
Well get a table near the street
In our old familiar place
You and I - face to face
A bottle of red, a bottle of white
It all depends on your appetite
Ill meet you any time you want
In our italian restaurant.
Things are okay with me these days
Got a good job, got a good office
Got a new wife, got a new life
And the familys fine
We lost touch long ago
You lost weight I did not know
You could ever look so good after so much time.
I remember those days hanging out at the village green
Engineer boots, leather jackets and tight blue jeans
Drop a dime in the box play the song about new orleans
Cold beer, hot lights
My sweet romantic teenage nights
Brenda and eddie were the popular steadies
And the king and the queen of the prom
Riding around with the car top down and the radio on
Nobody looked any finer
Or was more of a hit at the parkway diner
We never knew we could want more than that out of life
Surely brenda and eddie would always know how to survive.
Brenda and eddy were still going steady in the summer of 75
When they decided the marriage would be at the end of july
Everyone said they were crazy
Brenda you know youre much too lazy
Eddie could never afford to live that kind of life.
But there we were wavin brenda and eddie goodbye.
They got an apartment with deep pile carpet
And a couple of paintings from sears
A big waterbed that they bought with the bread
They had saved for a couple of years
They started to fight when the money got tight
And they just didnt count on the tears.
They lived for a while in a very nice style
But its always the same in the end
They got a divorce as a matter of course
And they parted the closest of friends
Then the king and the queen went back to the green
But you can never go back there again.
Brenda and eddie had had it already by the summer of 75
From the high to the low to the end of the show
For the rest of their lives
They couldnt go back to the greasers
The best they could do was pick up the pieces
We always knew they would both find a way to get by
Thats all I heard about brenda and eddie
Cant tell you more than I told you already
And here we are wavin brenda and eddie goodbye.
A bottle of red, a bottle of white
Whatever kind of mood youre in tonight
Ill meet you anytime you want
In our italian restaurant.
A bottle of white, a bottle of red
Perhaps a bottle of rose instead
Well get a table near the street
In our old familiar place
You and I - face to face
A bottle of red, a bottle of white
It all depends on your appetite
Ill meet you any time you want
In our italian restaurant.
Things are okay with me these days
Got a good job, got a good office
Got a new wife, got a new life
And the familys fine
We lost touch long ago
You lost weight I did not know
You could ever look so good after so much time.
I remember those days hanging out at the village green
Engineer boots, leather jackets and tight blue jeans
Drop a dime in the box play the song about new orleans
Cold beer, hot lights
My sweet romantic teenage nights
Brenda and eddie were the popular steadies
And the king and the queen of the prom
Riding around with the car top down and the radio on
Nobody looked any finer
Or was more of a hit at the parkway diner
We never knew we could want more than that out of life
Surely brenda and eddie would always know how to survive.
Brenda and eddy were still going steady in the summer of 75
When they decided the marriage would be at the end of july
Everyone said they were crazy
Brenda you know youre much too lazy
Eddie could never afford to live that kind of life.
But there we were wavin brenda and eddie goodbye.
They got an apartment with deep pile carpet
And a couple of paintings from sears
A big waterbed that they bought with the bread
They had saved for a couple of years
They started to fight when the money got tight
And they just didnt count on the tears.
They lived for a while in a very nice style
But its always the same in the end
They got a divorce as a matter of course
And they parted the closest of friends
Then the king and the queen went back to the green
But you can never go back there again.
Brenda and eddie had had it already by the summer of 75
From the high to the low to the end of the show
For the rest of their lives
They couldnt go back to the greasers
The best they could do was pick up the pieces
We always knew they would both find a way to get by
Thats all I heard about brenda and eddie
Cant tell you more than I told you already
And here we are wavin brenda and eddie goodbye.
A bottle of red, a bottle of white
Whatever kind of mood youre in tonight
Ill meet you anytime you want
In our italian restaurant.
Chicken Soup with Rice - Carole King
My mother used to read me the book this song is based of off when I was child. Chicken soup with rice is absolutely tied to childhood for me; I still buy it when I am sick. I didn't know that there was a musical/cartoon version of it until I stumbled across it on the internet. I think the folksy, acoustic take is perfect. I can't wait to sing it to my own children.
January
In January it's so nice
While slipping on the sliding ice
To sip hot chicken soup with rice
Sipping once, sipping twice
Sipping chicken soup with rice
February
In February it will be
My snowman's anniversary
With cake for him and soup for me!
Happy once, happy twice
Happy chicken soup with rice
March
In March the wind blows down the door
And spills my soup upon the floor
It laps it up and roars for more
Blowing once, blowing twice
Blowing chicken soup with rice
April
In April I will go away
To far off Spain or old Bombay
And dream about hot soup all day
Oh, my, oh, once, oh, my, oh, twice
Oh, my, oh, chicken soup with rice
May
In May I truly think it best
To be a robin lightly dressed
Concocting soup inside my nest
Mix it once, mix it twice
Mix that chicken soup with rice
June
In June I saw a charming group
Of roses all begin to droop
I pepped them up with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once, sprinkle twice
Sprinkle chicken soup with rice
July
In July I'll take a peep
Into the cool and fishy deep
Where chicken soup is selling cheap
Selling once, selling twice
Selling chicken soup with rice
August
In August it will be so hot
I will become a cooking pot
Cooking soup of course-why not?
Cooking once, cooking twice
Cooking chicken soup with rice
September
In September, for a while
I will ride a crocodile
Down the chicken soup-y Nile
Paddle once, paddle twice
Paddle chicken soup with rice
October
In October I'll be host
To witches, goblins and a ghost
I'll serve them chicken soup on toast
Whoopy once, whoopy twice
Whoopy chicken soup with rice
November
In November's gusty gale I will flop my flippy tail
And spout hot soup-I'll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice
Spouting chicken soup with rice
December
In December I will be
A baubled, bangled Christmas tree
With soup bowls draped all over me
Merry once, merry twice
Merry chicken soup with rice
I told you once, I told you twice
All seasons of the year are nice
For eating chicken soup with rice
January
In January it's so nice
While slipping on the sliding ice
To sip hot chicken soup with rice
Sipping once, sipping twice
Sipping chicken soup with rice
February
In February it will be
My snowman's anniversary
With cake for him and soup for me!
Happy once, happy twice
Happy chicken soup with rice
March
In March the wind blows down the door
And spills my soup upon the floor
It laps it up and roars for more
Blowing once, blowing twice
Blowing chicken soup with rice
April
In April I will go away
To far off Spain or old Bombay
And dream about hot soup all day
Oh, my, oh, once, oh, my, oh, twice
Oh, my, oh, chicken soup with rice
May
In May I truly think it best
To be a robin lightly dressed
Concocting soup inside my nest
Mix it once, mix it twice
Mix that chicken soup with rice
June
In June I saw a charming group
Of roses all begin to droop
I pepped them up with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once, sprinkle twice
Sprinkle chicken soup with rice
July
In July I'll take a peep
Into the cool and fishy deep
Where chicken soup is selling cheap
Selling once, selling twice
Selling chicken soup with rice
August
In August it will be so hot
I will become a cooking pot
Cooking soup of course-why not?
Cooking once, cooking twice
Cooking chicken soup with rice
September
In September, for a while
I will ride a crocodile
Down the chicken soup-y Nile
Paddle once, paddle twice
Paddle chicken soup with rice
October
In October I'll be host
To witches, goblins and a ghost
I'll serve them chicken soup on toast
Whoopy once, whoopy twice
Whoopy chicken soup with rice
November
In November's gusty gale I will flop my flippy tail
And spout hot soup-I'll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice
Spouting chicken soup with rice
December
In December I will be
A baubled, bangled Christmas tree
With soup bowls draped all over me
Merry once, merry twice
Merry chicken soup with rice
I told you once, I told you twice
All seasons of the year are nice
For eating chicken soup with rice
Eggs and Sausage - Tom Waites
This song is such an accurate portrait of the late-night seedy dinner. Part of it is Waites' vocal qualities - gravely, tired, almost forlorn. If one heard only the chorus, they would know exactly what the song was about.
nighthawks at the diner
of Emma's 49er, there's a rendezvous
of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
all the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs
now the paper's been read
now the waitress said
CHORUS
eggs and sausage and a side of toast
coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
what kind of pie?
In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade
2 for a quarter, dime for a dance
with Woolworth rhinestone diamond
earrings, and a sideway's glance
and now the register rings
and now the waitress sings
CHORUS
the classified section offered no direction
it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
now the touch of your fingers
lingers burning in my memory
I've been 86ed from your scheme
I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair
as the lead pipe morning falls
and the waitress calls
CHORUS
nighthawks at the diner
of Emma's 49er, there's a rendezvous
of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
all the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs
now the paper's been read
now the waitress said
CHORUS
eggs and sausage and a side of toast
coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
what kind of pie?
In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade
2 for a quarter, dime for a dance
with Woolworth rhinestone diamond
earrings, and a sideway's glance
and now the register rings
and now the waitress sings
CHORUS
the classified section offered no direction
it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
now the touch of your fingers
lingers burning in my memory
I've been 86ed from your scheme
I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair
as the lead pipe morning falls
and the waitress calls
CHORUS
Ice Cream - Sarah McLachlan
This song was a favorite of my peers in middle school. I think it is an interesting reverse of the "woman as sweet food object" songs. Here, McLachlan, instead of correlating the individual to the food, she correlates their love, which is very different than what other, similarly themed musical pieces do.
Your love is better than ice cream
better than anything else that I've tried
and your love is better than ice cream
everyone here know how to fight
and it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from
Your love is better than chocolate
better than anything else that I've tried
oh love is better than chocolate
everyone here knows how to cry
it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...
Your love is better than ice cream
better than anything else that I've tried
and your love is better than ice cream
everyone here know how to fight
and it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from
Your love is better than chocolate
better than anything else that I've tried
oh love is better than chocolate
everyone here knows how to cry
it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...
Dixie Chicken - Little Feat
This song again uses a food item, and really a colloquial phrase, to identify a woman (or a partner). There is less about consumption in this piece, and more about atmosphere. The atmosphere of the South and bars are as much a part of this song as the romance.
I've seen the bright lights of Memphis
And the Commodore Hotel
And underneath a street lamp
I met a Southern belle
Well she took me to the river
Where she cast her spell
And in that Southern moonlight
She sang a song so well
Chorus
If you'll be my Dixie chicken
I'll be your Tenessee lamb
And we can walk together
Down in Dixieland
Down in Dixieland
Well we made all the hot spots
My money flowed like wine
Then that low down Southern whiskey
Began to fog my mind
And I don't remember church bells
Or the money I put down
On the white picket fence and boardwalk
Of the house at the edge of town
But boy do I remember
The strain of her refrain
The nights we spent together
And the way she called my name
[chorus]
Well it's been a year since she ran away
Yes that guitar player sure could play
She always liked to sing along
She's always handy with a song
Then one night in the lobby
Of the Commodore Hotel
I chanced to meet a bartender
Who said he knew her well
And as he handed me a light
He began to hum a song
And all the boys there at the bar
Began to sign along ,
[chorus]
I've seen the bright lights of Memphis
And the Commodore Hotel
And underneath a street lamp
I met a Southern belle
Well she took me to the river
Where she cast her spell
And in that Southern moonlight
She sang a song so well
Chorus
If you'll be my Dixie chicken
I'll be your Tenessee lamb
And we can walk together
Down in Dixieland
Down in Dixieland
Well we made all the hot spots
My money flowed like wine
Then that low down Southern whiskey
Began to fog my mind
And I don't remember church bells
Or the money I put down
On the white picket fence and boardwalk
Of the house at the edge of town
But boy do I remember
The strain of her refrain
The nights we spent together
And the way she called my name
[chorus]
Well it's been a year since she ran away
Yes that guitar player sure could play
She always liked to sing along
She's always handy with a song
Then one night in the lobby
Of the Commodore Hotel
I chanced to meet a bartender
Who said he knew her well
And as he handed me a light
He began to hum a song
And all the boys there at the bar
Began to sign along ,
[chorus]
He Turned the Water into Wine - Johnny Cash
I firmly believe Jesus would want to be remembered by Johnny Cash, in just this manner. I wanted to include a song related to communion and religious "eating," and this by far, is my favorite. It is direct, rugged, honest--much as I imagine Jesus was.
He turned the water into wine
He turned the water into wine
In the little Cana town
The word went all around that
He turned the water into wine
Well he walked upon the Sea of Galilee
He walked upon the Sea of Galilee
Shouted far and wide
He calmed the raging tide
And walked upon the Sea of Galilee
He turned the water into wine
He did my lord now,
He turned the water into wine
In the litle cana town,
The word went all around
That he turned the water into wine
He fed the hungry multitude,
He fed the hungry multitude.
With a little fish and bread,
They said every one was fed, 5000
He fed the hungry multitude.
He turned the water into wine.
He did, just a carpender from Nazrith,
He turned the water into wine,
In the little cana town,
The word went all around,
He turned the water into wine.
He turned the water into wine...
He turned the water into wine
He turned the water into wine
In the little Cana town
The word went all around that
He turned the water into wine
Well he walked upon the Sea of Galilee
He walked upon the Sea of Galilee
Shouted far and wide
He calmed the raging tide
And walked upon the Sea of Galilee
He turned the water into wine
He did my lord now,
He turned the water into wine
In the litle cana town,
The word went all around
That he turned the water into wine
He fed the hungry multitude,
He fed the hungry multitude.
With a little fish and bread,
They said every one was fed, 5000
He fed the hungry multitude.
He turned the water into wine.
He did, just a carpender from Nazrith,
He turned the water into wine,
In the little cana town,
The word went all around,
He turned the water into wine.
He turned the water into wine...
Quetzalcoatl Eats Plums - The Mountain Goats
I consider The Mountain Goats poets. Here the image of the plum tree can be interpreted in many ways; but the image of the heavy, ripe, dark fruit is haunting. It sticks with you; it feels familiar, like I've experienced what they are talking about but can't give it a name.
i meant to leave the house this morning
and begin making my way toward where you are
i meant to leave the house this morning
i made it halfway across the front yard
but the plum tree hung heavy in my head
and the plum tree hung heavy in my heart
and the plum tree hung heavy over me
so i tore off to the phone
to call you and tell you something, but i couldn't remember what
because through the clean, clean windows
saw the plum tree's leaves, as red as fresh blood
and the plum tree hung heavy in my head
and the plum tree hung heavy in my heart
and the plum tree hung heavy over me
Listen Here
i meant to leave the house this morning
and begin making my way toward where you are
i meant to leave the house this morning
i made it halfway across the front yard
but the plum tree hung heavy in my head
and the plum tree hung heavy in my heart
and the plum tree hung heavy over me
so i tore off to the phone
to call you and tell you something, but i couldn't remember what
because through the clean, clean windows
saw the plum tree's leaves, as red as fresh blood
and the plum tree hung heavy in my head
and the plum tree hung heavy in my heart
and the plum tree hung heavy over me
Listen Here
Fish in My Dish - Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings
I just plain like blues/funk music. It makes you want to move. This song follows a long tradition of food titled "jams" (no pun intended) that may or may not have anything to do with food (Green Onions for example, by Booker T & the MGs). It is unfortunate that the only video I could find with good audio of this song was these ridiculous kids skateboarding. But, I suppose it suggests the multiplicity of meaning that music (and food!) can have for people.
Lyrics unavailable
Lyrics unavailable
Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk - Rufus Wainwright
Rufus Wainwright is one of my favorite musicians, I find his work interesting and very human. This song deals very much with consumption, and links the consumption of food to the consumption of a relationship, drawing out how both can be simultaneously harmful and delightful.
cigarettes and chocolate milk
these are just a couple of my cravings
everything it seems i like's a little bit stronger
a little bit thicker
a little bit harmful for me
if i should buy jellybeans
have to eat them all in just one sitting
everything it seems i like's a little bit sweeter
a little bit fatter
a little bit harmful for me
and then there's those other things
which for several reasons we won't mention
everything about them is a little bit stranger
a little bit harder
a little bit deadly
it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted
sitting here remembering me
always been a shoe made for the city
go ahead, accuse me of just singing about places
with scrappy boys faces
have general run of the town
playing with prodigal songs
takes a lot of sentimental valiums
can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy
while running on empty
you little old doll with a frown
you got to keep in the game
maintaining mystique while facing forward
i suggest a reading of 'a lesson in tightropes'
or 'surfing your high hopes' or 'adios kansas'
it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted
still there's not a show on my back
holes or a friendly intervention
i'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit irish
a little bit tower of pisa whenever i see you
so please be kind if i'm a mess
cigarettes and chocolate milk
cigarettes and chocolate milk
these are just a couple of my cravings
everything it seems i like's a little bit stronger
a little bit thicker
a little bit harmful for me
if i should buy jellybeans
have to eat them all in just one sitting
everything it seems i like's a little bit sweeter
a little bit fatter
a little bit harmful for me
and then there's those other things
which for several reasons we won't mention
everything about them is a little bit stranger
a little bit harder
a little bit deadly
it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted
sitting here remembering me
always been a shoe made for the city
go ahead, accuse me of just singing about places
with scrappy boys faces
have general run of the town
playing with prodigal songs
takes a lot of sentimental valiums
can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy
while running on empty
you little old doll with a frown
you got to keep in the game
maintaining mystique while facing forward
i suggest a reading of 'a lesson in tightropes'
or 'surfing your high hopes' or 'adios kansas'
it isn't very smart
tends to make one part so broken-hearted
still there's not a show on my back
holes or a friendly intervention
i'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit irish
a little bit tower of pisa whenever i see you
so please be kind if i'm a mess
cigarettes and chocolate milk
Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
This piece uses food to describe a moment, which identifies how food absorbs meaning. In this case, banana pancakes captures memories of romance and delightful sloth, you can almost see the calm gray of the rainy day that they wake up to.
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside...
But Baby, You hardly even notice
When I try to show you this
Song is meant to keep ya
From doing what your supposed to
Like waking up too early
Maybe we can sleep in
Ill make you banana pancakes
Pretend like its the weekend now
And we could pretend it all the time
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside
But just maybe, laka ukulele
Mommy made a baby
Really don't mind the practice
Cause your my little lady
Lady lady love me
Cause I love to lay here lazy
We could close the curtains
Pretend like there's no world outside
And we could pretend it all the time
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside
Aint no need aint no need Mmmm MMmmm
Cant you see cant you see
Rain all day
And I don't mind.
The telephone is singing
Ringing its too early
Don't pick it up
We don't need to we got everything
We need right here
And everything we need is enough
Just so easy
When the whole world fits inside of your arms
Don't really need to pay attention to the alarm
Wake up slow, yeah wake up slow
You hardly even notice
When I try to show you this
Song is meant to keep ya
From doing what your supposed to
Like waking up too early
Maybe we can sleep in
Ill make you banana pancakes
Pretend like its the weekend now
And we could pretend it all the time
Can't you see that it's just raining
Aint no need to go outside
Aint no need, Aint no need
Rain all day and I really really really don't mind
Can't you see cant you see,
You gotta wake up slow
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside...
But Baby, You hardly even notice
When I try to show you this
Song is meant to keep ya
From doing what your supposed to
Like waking up too early
Maybe we can sleep in
Ill make you banana pancakes
Pretend like its the weekend now
And we could pretend it all the time
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside
But just maybe, laka ukulele
Mommy made a baby
Really don't mind the practice
Cause your my little lady
Lady lady love me
Cause I love to lay here lazy
We could close the curtains
Pretend like there's no world outside
And we could pretend it all the time
Cant you see that its just raining
Aint no need to go outside
Aint no need aint no need Mmmm MMmmm
Cant you see cant you see
Rain all day
And I don't mind.
The telephone is singing
Ringing its too early
Don't pick it up
We don't need to we got everything
We need right here
And everything we need is enough
Just so easy
When the whole world fits inside of your arms
Don't really need to pay attention to the alarm
Wake up slow, yeah wake up slow
You hardly even notice
When I try to show you this
Song is meant to keep ya
From doing what your supposed to
Like waking up too early
Maybe we can sleep in
Ill make you banana pancakes
Pretend like its the weekend now
And we could pretend it all the time
Can't you see that it's just raining
Aint no need to go outside
Aint no need, Aint no need
Rain all day and I really really really don't mind
Can't you see cant you see,
You gotta wake up slow
Brown Sugar - The Rolling Stones
A Rolling Stones classic, and an excellent example of how woman becomes food, and how ethnic becomes "other" and commodified in food.
Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields,
Sold in a market down in new orleans.
Scarred old slaver know hes doin alright.
Hear him whip the women just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a young girl should
A-huh.
Drums beating, cold english blood runs hot,
Lady of the house wondrin where its gonna stop.
House boy knows that hes doin alright.
You should a heard him just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a black girl should
A-huh.
I bet your mama was a tent show queen, and all her boy
Friends were sweet sixteen.
Im no schoolboy but I know what I like,
You should have heard me just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a young girl should.
I said yeah, I said yeah, I said yeah, I said
Oh just like a, just like a black girl should.
I said yeah, I said yeah, I said yeah, I said
Oh just like, just like a black girl should.
Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields,
Sold in a market down in new orleans.
Scarred old slaver know hes doin alright.
Hear him whip the women just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a young girl should
A-huh.
Drums beating, cold english blood runs hot,
Lady of the house wondrin where its gonna stop.
House boy knows that hes doin alright.
You should a heard him just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a black girl should
A-huh.
I bet your mama was a tent show queen, and all her boy
Friends were sweet sixteen.
Im no schoolboy but I know what I like,
You should have heard me just around midnight.
Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good
(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a young girl should.
I said yeah, I said yeah, I said yeah, I said
Oh just like a, just like a black girl should.
I said yeah, I said yeah, I said yeah, I said
Oh just like, just like a black girl should.
Strawberry Wine - Deana Carter
This song is a favorite among Texas Teenagers, and is in many regards ridiculous. It is not a particularly well written or interesting piece of music but it does draw a nice link (whether it intends to or not) between the the naive experiences of youth and the naive purchase of Boon's Farm Wine. At least that is the link I make anyway.
He was working through college on my grandpa's farm
I was thirsting for for knowledge and he had a car
I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child
When one restless summer we found love growing wild
On the banks of the river on a well beaten path
Funny how those memories they last
Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
I still remember when thirty was old
My biggest fear was September when he had to go
A few cards and letters and one long distance call
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall
But year after year I come back to this place
Just to remember the taste
Of strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
The fields have grown over now
Years since they've seen a plow
There's nothing time hasn't touched
Is it really him or the loss of my innocence
I've been missing so much
Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
He was working through college on my grandpa's farm
I was thirsting for for knowledge and he had a car
I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child
When one restless summer we found love growing wild
On the banks of the river on a well beaten path
Funny how those memories they last
Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
I still remember when thirty was old
My biggest fear was September when he had to go
A few cards and letters and one long distance call
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall
But year after year I come back to this place
Just to remember the taste
Of strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
The fields have grown over now
Years since they've seen a plow
There's nothing time hasn't touched
Is it really him or the loss of my innocence
I've been missing so much
Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine
Wild Honey - U2
This song serves as an excellent example of how women "become" food. In particular, women are positioned as something "sweet." This trope in music has a long tradition (consider Sugar by the Archies, or When I take my Sugar to Tea by Bing Crosby). This song perfectly captures what it would mean to be "wild honey." Unfortunately the videographer who uses it in their video seems to be referring to their kids rather than some lost love, but, that is the price I pay for avoiding the cost of music...
In the days
When we were swinging from the trees
I was a monkey
Stealing honey from the swarm of bees
I could taste...
I could taste you even then
And I would chase you down the wind
You can go there if you please
Wild honey
And if you go there, go with me
Wild honey
Did I know you...
Did I know you even then?
Before the clocks kept time
Before the world was made
From the cruel sun
You were shelter...
You were my shelter and my shade
If you go there with me
Wild honey
You can do just what you please
Wild honey
Yeah, just blowing in the breeze
Wild honey
Wild... wild... wild...
Im still standing...
I'm still standing where you left me
Are you still growing wild
With everything tame around you?
I send you flowers
Good flowers for your heart
I know your garden is full
But is there sweetness at all?
(What is soul?)
(Love me, give me soul)
If you go there, go with me
Wild honey
Wont you take me, take me please
Wild honey
Yeah, swinging through the trees
Wild honey
In the days
When we were swinging from the trees
I was a monkey
Stealing honey from the swarm of bees
I could taste...
I could taste you even then
And I would chase you down the wind
You can go there if you please
Wild honey
And if you go there, go with me
Wild honey
Did I know you...
Did I know you even then?
Before the clocks kept time
Before the world was made
From the cruel sun
You were shelter...
You were my shelter and my shade
If you go there with me
Wild honey
You can do just what you please
Wild honey
Yeah, just blowing in the breeze
Wild honey
Wild... wild... wild...
Im still standing...
I'm still standing where you left me
Are you still growing wild
With everything tame around you?
I send you flowers
Good flowers for your heart
I know your garden is full
But is there sweetness at all?
(What is soul?)
(Love me, give me soul)
If you go there, go with me
Wild honey
Wont you take me, take me please
Wild honey
Yeah, swinging through the trees
Wild honey
The Riddle Song - writer unknown, performed by Naomi Sommers & Rose Polenzani
When asked to identify my favorite song, this one is always my choice. There is something mystifying about it. This version here has a first verse which I had never heard before and could not find the exact lyrics for. I was pleased to find it involved an apple. I think part of what makes the song powerful is that the riddle illusions (apple, cherry, chicken, baby) are all things we have personal experience with or reference to. Without that common text, the song would likely be less moving.
I gave my love a cherry
That had no stone
I gave my love a chicken
That had no bone
I told my love a story
That had no end
I gave my love a baby
With no crying.
How can there be a cherry
That has no stone?
And how can there be a chicken
That has no bone?
And how can there be a story
That has no end?
And how can there be a baby
With no crying?
A cherry when it's blooming
It has no stone
A chicken when it's piping
It has no bone
The story that I love you
It has no end
A baby when it's sleeping
It's no crying.
I gave my love a cherry
That had no stone
I gave my love a chicken
That had no bone
I told my love a story
That had no end
I gave my love a baby
With no crying.
How can there be a cherry
That has no stone?
And how can there be a chicken
That has no bone?
And how can there be a story
That has no end?
And how can there be a baby
With no crying?
A cherry when it's blooming
It has no stone
A chicken when it's piping
It has no bone
The story that I love you
It has no end
A baby when it's sleeping
It's no crying.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)