Your Morning Music (?)

The Eighties were that sort of musical time; that is to say, there is a reason people treat it like a joke. Still, among all that overstylized noise, many have their favorites, and for some reason we’ll try to justify them as better than some other polymerized sonic candy from the period. Well, that and I really miss saxophones in pop music.

My mind makes up ideas that I forget too fast. How do I know when it begins? No one can tell me what could be the best. Hey, that’s one thing I’d never miss. I look around and try it out; I don’t know which way to go. Today I’m coming. Today I’m leaving, too. And tomorrow it’s gonna be all over. Maybe I’ll stick around; couldn’t bother, yesterday. Today, I need a love that never ends. You drive your car too fast; you’re just traveling around. I haven’t seen much of this world. No one can tell me who the greatest is. Hey, that’s one thing I’d never miss, ’cause I really know so well what will be the best for me. Today I’m coming. Today I’m leaving, too. And tomorrow it’s gonna be all over. Maybe I’ll stick around; couldn’t bother yesterday. Today I need a love that never ends.

―Nena, “?” (1982)

The Lesser of Buggy Quietudes

There is this: I don’t think “pastoral” is a proper adjective for an office scene.

No, that’s not a setup to a Max Weber joke. Then again, would that be Sheep Bug or Vicar Bug?

Either way, it does eventually involve killbots. And has nothing to do with either sheep or clergy.

That, and since we already know the name of the first single, what should we call the band? Adam and the _____? And no, we’re not rebooting 1977.

Oh, wait, I know: Huberphonic.

Never mind.

____________________

Image note: Detail of Bug Martini by Adam Huber, 2 November 2015.

Your Morning Metal (Future Tense)

The caricatures of the past have a way of haunting reality in the present. This is, of course, a familiar point we have considered before, and even in a metallic context. But, really, take a moment to appreciate that the song is over a quarter-century old. Yeah, really.

What do you see on the news when you watch TV? War in the name of God, or a playground killing spree. Politicians promise you the world, and a preacher cries; all he ever wanted was your money, and a bitch on the side. What went wrong? Did society twist him?” What do you see in the center of the public eye? Rock stars on smack, and a serial killer fries. Radicals blame suicide and murder on our form of art; brainwash the youth, you know they claim we all play a part. What a shame that they can’t think for themselves. Past tense to future tense, let history unfold. So ends a decade, now, what will the nineties hold? You know we’re verging on the edge of an age; then another century will turn the page. What do you think they will say when they look back on this? Were the eighties just a time of spoiled innocence? We leave our legacy like dust in the sands of time. Let us hope the seeds we plant can carry the weight of our crimes. Past tense to future tense, let history unfold. And when we’re old and gray, these stories will be told. You know we’re verging on the edge of an age; then another century will turn the page. We sail on an ocean, a sea of doubt. Skeptics make no sense, can’t work things out. I’ll choose optimism, scream its name; look to the future, a burning flame. Past tense to future tense, let history unfold. So ends a decade, now, what will the nineties hold? You know we’re verging on the edge of an age; then another century will turn the page. Turn the page.

―Sanctuary, “Future Tense” (1989)

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