Thinker

Starting Up a Brand New Day

Friday might seem like an odd day for the theme of starting anew, but if you've followed my various web endeavors you'll probably understand why. Unlike with angry "I hate you" songs, of which I have surprisingly few (I see people fight and be negative all the time in my real life, so I don't need much in my recreational), of upbeat, invigorating revival motivational anthems for this kind of day I have scads. I thought, since it's early appropriately quick, why waste time with metaphors when you can make Sting sing the crucial three-word triplet? And what better luck, as a seeker of a copy of said track, than to first come across, as I did, not the studio track from the 1999 album of the same name, but rather the cut from 2001 live album ...All This Time, which is a great, bouncing, uptempo jazz version of the eerie electronic original, complete with jazz band, male and female backup singers, and of course Sting, whose voice is tailor-made for jazz. The live album was recorded on the night of September 11, 2001, at the famous concert that was an ultimately helpful gesture showing that life would go on, despite the disaster mere hours earlier.

The relevance of that to this current morning was the first flag, what I heard from our small-scale rehearsals even better, then finally the perfect relevance of the lyrics not only to my goal but to where I begin. The past is now the past, and it is time to start anew for myself personally, once again as my own individuality and solidly single.
'

"Brand New Day"

Sting

...All This Time 

A&M, 2001)

Brand New Day - Sting

Why don't we turn the clock to zero, honey

I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money

We're starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock all the way back

I wonder if she'll take me back

I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, sister

You'll never know how much I missed her

I'm starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero, boss

The river's wide, we'll swim across

We're starting up a brand new day....

In the Shade

Curls

He Walks Away/The Sun Goes Down

A wonderful thing about music is that it can take on a very personal meaning or role unique to an individual alone. Sometimes a song can bring back memories as evocatively as a particular scent, be they good ones, poignant ones, humorous ones, or sad ones. Pop music in particular is useful in certain significant times, moments or events in a person's life: why else would so many couples have "our song," or wedding dj's scour the world for the perfect track for a first dance, or the recent breakup victim find solace or strength in one of any number of tunes appropriate for the desired reaction, be it sadness, anger or reaffirmation of strength.

As it happens, even the most resolutely anti-romantic smiling singles among us, including your humble blog author, can unwittingly or reluctantly find themselves, sometimes quite suddenly, in that last category, despite what seem like one's best efforts to avoid getting in deep enough that someone could have the power to place them there, even after seven solid years of comfortable conscientious objector status. As difficult and unfamiliar as the emotions may be, though, I am a pop music blogger, and damned if I'm not going to use that fact in whatever way I can to help guide me through the breakup mires as quickly and effectively as possible, and to the most positive extent it can as well. Therefore I naturally spent a bit of thought on finding a song that could most appropriately summarize, symbolize, and proselytize the whole unfortunate affair, mentally flipping first through some of the lighter ballads (I've done the heavy ballad breakup once...about seven years ago).

But not even the more optimistic laments seemed to really capture the true spirit of the moment, it being for me as rare and blind-sided as it has been; instead, my thoughts turned toward an atypically positive tune by an artist also not immediately obvious in my endeavor, and instantly I knew I had it. Sure, few singers today can warble about pain as believably and realistically as Amy Winehouse, but it wasn't one of the more despairing tracks from the great album Back to Black I knew was my winning ticket. No, if I were to sing from my heart this evening it would come out something like the amiable and knowing "Tears Dry On Their Own." Set over the accompaniment to the celebratory 60's love duet "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," "Tears Dry On Their Own" reads the way a rationalist who still appreciates at least the notion of (fictional) romance would approach the end of a love story.

So, like the mega-beehived British chanteuse in the song's loveable music video, I must work on getting out of the hotel room and walking down Hollywood Boulevard again with the same acceptance and open-minded hope as the track promotes. It's my cathartic way of saying goodbye to a person and a relationship I enjoyed. And why shouldn't I carry my headphones along with me as I do so?

Tears Dry On Their Own - Amy W...

"Tears Dry On Their Own"

Amy Winehouse

Back to Black

(Republic, 2007)

Lyrics by Amy Winehouse, 2006

All I can ever be to you
Is a darkness that we knew,
And this regret I've got accustomed to.
Once it was so right,
When we were at our high,
Waiting for you in the hotel at night,
I knew I hadn't met my match,
But every moment we could snatch,
I don't know why I got so attached.
It's my responsibility;
And you don't owe nothing to me,
But to walk away I have no capacity.

He walks away;
The sun goes down;
He takes the day but I'm grown.
And in your way, in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own,

I don't understand:
Why do I stress a man
When there's so many bigger things at hand?
We could a never had it all,
We had to hit a wall,
So this is inevitable withdrawal.
Even if I stop wanting you,
A perspective pushes through:
I'll be some next man's other woman soon.

I shouldn't play myself again,
I should just be my own best friend,
Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men.

I wish I could say no regrets,
And no emotional debts,
Cause as we kiss goodbye the sun sets.
So we are history.
The shadow covers me;
The sky above a blaze that only lovers see.

He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day but I'm grown,
And in you way,
My deep shade,
My tears dry on their own.

Lounger

Song(s) for the Day: Shaken, Not Stirred

Think back, if you will, to 1997, when Bond meant Brosnan instead of brooding Craig, brunette instead of blonde, chest hair galore instead of shiny smooth muscles emerging from the sea, and when theme songs were almost as enjoyable (and popular) as the films they accompanied. Tomorrow Never Dies, the second and arguably best of the iffy Bond foursome starring Scottish stud Pierce Brosnan, arrived two years after Goldeneye brought a new Bond to fruition, future X-Men star Famke Janssen (and her killer thighs) into the limelight, and the great Tina Turner title track (written by Bono and the Edge of U2), but it didn't exactly have a great deal to live up to. Still, it was an enjoyable romp, with such delights as an Asian Bond Girl (Michelle Yeoh) whose powers for once extended beyond being named "Pussy Galore;" a kickass submarine finale; Jonathan Pryce (fresh off Evita) as one of the better Bond villains not armed with a white cat; the brief scenes featuring Teri Hatcher that culminated in her being bumped off a third of the way in; and so forth.

Another gift Tomorrow Never Dies gave was addressed to the music world, and herein lies an interesting, if brief and familiar, story. David Arnold, who penned the score for the seventeenth Bond film (having been hand-picked by boss-lady Barbara Broccoli), also put his hand to writing a theme song, a theme which also would crop up several times during the film - because, after all, isn't that what a theme song really SHOULD do? But I digress. Said song, originally titled (wait for it) "Tomorrow Never Dies," was recorded by lowercase-loving songstress k.d. lang, at her sultriest and most sensual throughout. But after Tina Turner, someone decided that the new theme song should be selected through a competitive process, and a total of twelve songs were submitted from a variety of artists, including Arnold and lang's. In the end, though, it was Sheryl Crow's entry that won the day, although Arnold and lang's tune was given the opening end credits slot and renamed "Surrender," only the fourth time a Bond film would have a different opening and closing theme song.

When I first saw the film I was no Sheryl Crow devotee (nor am I still, although that is not to say I view her in any negative light), and I felt strongly that "Surrender" was a far more appropriate Bond song in general and in terms of the particular film itself. Over time, I've learned to appreciate both for their own merits (it is certainly one of Crow's most exciting songs), and now I'm not sure I have, or need, a preference.

Which, if any, do you prefer, I wonder?

Surrender - k.d. lang

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