We should get this out of the way first: on this program, which sees Junior and me continuing our "schtick" of playing entire sides, there's a wonderful set of Television Personalities covers. Admittedly, I had never really come across this band's music--except when I did. Its fingerprints are all over the early Creation Records catalog, and not just in the Times (naturally)--tell me that Biff Bang Pow! didn't spend their entire "career," as good as it was, trying to re-create "She's My Yoko." This material is not very typical of what we do here at BOMBAST, but it is simply too good. Does this mean anything?
I am more struck by the juxtaposition (or is it?) of Simon & Garfunkel and Joy Division, to be honest.
Junior has said that Simon & Garfunkel make "the only pop music that [she] can listen to without wanting to vomit," which is not only an endorsement but an attestation that The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, the other two anchors of her growing collection, are (at times) something other than pop. (She's pretty sharp.) Anyway, I come not to bury or praise Simon & Garfunkel, only to say that I genuinely don't understand them and never have. I can't inhabit these songs--except for "I Am A Rock"--and I can't fathom doing so. Imagine listening to "The 59th Street Bridge Song" and thinking, "this expresses me," or wanting this to be the case. I would run from anyone who did.
I remember this one time in catechism class when our teacher analyzed "The Sound of Silence"--supposedly as a warning against idol worship (?)--so I suppose that's something one can do. I have similar memories of U2 and Howard Jones lyrics going "under the microscope" at this or that Catholic Youth Group function. Good times!
One can be a Simon & Garfunkel person, or a Joy Division person, or neither, but certainly not both. Prove me wrong. Show me a living specimen.
Tag me as a "Joy Division person," which means--I don't really know what. I have a personal history with Closer, certainly, and like a friend it is always different when I come back to it. But I find, upon this listen, that I don't see myself in it, and I'm not sure how I ever did. These songs are too individual, too personal (maybe "The Eternal" transcends this). No doubt you've seen it referred to--callously and tritely--as Ian Curtis's suicide note (it probably isn't), but it certainly couldn't pass as anyone else's. Junior, once again, is right to find this "not that bad"--there is no reason to treat this anguish as yours. It's not.
Finally, "Pocket Love" isn't the most "dance party"-worthy tune there is, but it will have to do.
BOMBAST playlist, 2017 July 13, 1900-2100:
golden boy
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