A Particular Age Group

Song 474: This week the playlist comes around to My Generation by The Who, written by Pete Townshend, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. This weekend being the 50th anniversary reunion of my HS graduating class, this cut seems to fit the moment quite well. I just had the opportunity to reconnect with a bunch of former classmates and talk about the times, both old and new. Ironically, though, I didn't actually know this hit before I graduated, despite its chart run a few years before I put on the robe. Indeed, I didn't get to discover the track until after I started college and I got to hear a lot more rock, thanks to the radio, my circle of musically-savvy friends, and the fact that I no longer lived with a family who despised the devil's music. Learning the message of this number's lyrics roughly coincided with me joining others of My Generation in opposing the war in Viet Nam, so even though it was already a golden oldie, at the time, it seemed to fit that moment quite appropriately also. During that stretch, older people would sometimes try to put us d-down, and all too often, it seemed to happen because we opposed a needless, destructive war. Such behavior from the previous generations did certainly make the Things they do look awful c-cold, yet I still disagreed with the follow-up line - I don't hope I die before I get old, and I didn't back then either. Instead, I hope to get the chance to hang out with fellow members of My Generation when the next milestone rolls around.

Something Shiny and Valuable

Song 473: This week the playlist recognizes Silver Dollar by Thin Lizzy, written by Brian Robertson, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I found out about Thin Lizzy from hearing Wild One (Song 296). I liked that tune so much, I decided to get a copy of Fighting, and the LP had some other gems, including Spirit Slips Away (Song 410) and this cut. The quartet got a lot more attention when they released their follow-up 33, thanks to a hit called The Boys Are Back in Town, but that one didn't impress me, and I didn't bother to get their chart-topping Jailbreak because I thought the album I already had sounded better, and I still think so. This track has the line My roots are in Chicago, and personally, my roots were not in The Windy City, but I was living in that area when this one came along, though at the time, I really didn't know where I might want to plant my seed. During that stretch, I also had no silver dollars, but when my father died in 1996, I found one in his wallet, so now I could possibly bet a silver dollar, though even if I did, I’m not sure it would make me rich. Yet, regardless of how the coin might roll, I do feel quite certain that this number is an easy pitch.

An Unwelcome Animal Intruder

Song 472: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's entertaining opus The Weasel comes from one of my Fast Folk colleagues, Wendy Beckerman, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When the January 1995 FF Bottom Line show rolled around, I no longer hung out with that bunch, so I didn't get to hear this track, or the rest of the album, when it came along, although, ironically, by the middle of the following year, I ended up doing the layout work for the final handful of FF issues. Wendy had shared a few memorable pieces at the weekly songwriter gatherings on Houston Street back when I did make that scene, though I don't recall hearing this tune there, but I quickly developed an appreciation for her work, and I'd say this composition showcases her talents quite well. Perhaps you already knew that the weasel is a slender active carnivorous mammal, but maybe you didn’t know, until you heard this track, that there's a weasel in the house of monogamy.

That Sounds Delicious

Song 471: This week the playlist showcases Jambalaya (On the Bayou) by Hank Williams, written by Hank Williams and Moon Mullican. During my family's alternate-year summer visits with the Ohio relatives in the 1960s, my aunt and uncle routinely let me choose which LPs to play on the stereo, and they had a lot of country music gems in their stash. This musical binge soon turned me into a major Hank fan, and it also did that to both of my brothers. We would often sing along together on this cut, and that has more than a little bit of irony - all three of us were quite finicky eaters, and while I gradually got over it and my brothers never did, I suspect that none of us would have savored the real flavor of Jambalaya back then. However, we all relished the spicy suggestion to have big fun on the bayou, and I would gladly have volunteered to be the one to pick guitar. At first, I didn't know exactly who ma cher amio might be, though from the context, I assumed it referred to the singer's lover, and then, not long after I began Spanish class in junior high, the pet name for the sweetheart became clear. Today, son of a gun, I would say that this tasty old classic still sounds like big fun.