Tuesday, March 08, 2011
I have to admit that I didn't love Some Girls the first few times I'd heard it. I'm not really sure why. I was probably turned off by the disco influence, or too ready to judge it for albums like Goats Head Soup or It's Only Rock 'n Roll, which I now think have their moments. Maybe I was too young.
I've enjoyed it more and more over time, but I recently had an epiphany with that album. Bear with me, because I enjoy a good tangent:
Recently I had a discussion with ML about some teenager we know who is rumored to be a very heavy drug user. I can easily understand teenagers smoking some pot or experimenting with drugs, but I always thought that heavy serious drug use was really something that "adults" struggled with more.
"It just seems like you need to be able to look back on all the good times you had on drugs in order to become a serious heavy addict," she said. "Like before things got bad." Whether this is true or not is irrelevant, because it certainly does seem like it should be that way if it isn't.
And I think that's how it often works with music. People who aren't "serious" music appreciators often need to have some memory or feeling associated with a song or an album to really love it. For me, I have no memory of my dad listening to Some Girls, but I have plenty of memories around Sgt. Pepper or any Springsteen album that I of course love now. (This is also, by the way, why I think that "classic" radio stations play the same damn Zeppelin/Creedence/Aerosmith playlist every day.)
A few weeks ago a friend rented a hotel room at St. Cecilia where a few of us got together with some champagne and old LPs (including Some Girls) and created one of the fondest musical memories I've had in recent memory.
Anyway, go buy a vinyl copy of Some Girls and listen to it. It's lovely.