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Flashback Friday! (Sacred Love)

posted by BatSheva Vaknin @ 9:07 AM
Friday, January 31, 2014

Most Fridays, I post an oldie but a goodie blog for your enjoyment. To those of you who just started reading The Grownup Girl recently, enjoy the “new” blog! To those of you who have been with me from the start, but have memories like mine, enjoy the “new” blog!

And to those who were with me from the start and who already read this blog and burned it into your memory, word for word, photogenically, I say:

What are you doing wasting your time dilly-dallying on my website? Get out there and find me a book deal!

What is it about men singing through a distorted amp that makes me so woozy? I’ll be sitting in the car, minding my own business, when the Foster the People song Pumped up Kicks comes on and I’m hooked. I literally will sit in my car to hear the whole thing – inane lyrics and all (“All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you better run, better run, faster than my bullet”), until the last note.

Same goes for Lil’ Wayne’s mumbled ballad How to Love. I’m obsessed with that song. And I’m equally interested in how odd it is to hear this compassionate love song (“You hada lots crooks tryna steal your heart, never really had luck, couldn’t never figure out how to love. How to love”) – granted, grammatically crazy and misspelled song – uttered from the gold-toothed mouth of the face & body-tatooed mess that is Lil’ Wayne.

Lil’ Wayne, however, doesn’t hold a candle to the original dreaded bad boy of distorted love songs. In 1986, singing on a telephone line calling in from prison, HR from Bad Brains recorded my all-time fave, Sacred Love. I played that song on that record over and over and over and over.

The lyrics – literally – are RIDICULOUS. A sample: “Baby, baby, baby, I don’t want you come to me as a whore. Don’t lust off my body baby. That’s a bore.” And, “Maybe, maybe, maybe, Jah will bless us to be one tomorrow. Visits from you every Tuesday. Right on time.”

I mean, for crying out loud, that last verse doesn’t even rhyme!

I didn’t care. I was a love-sick teenager.

And don’t even get me started on Somebody by Depeche Mode.

c/xo,

Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)

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