Monday, June 14, 2004
becoming harmonious
Tonight was absolutely one of the funnest (it is too a word!) evenings Bret and I have ever shared. We've been playing with MusicMatch Jukebox quite a bit lately — I'm even in the process of creating a custom "skin" for mine, because there are no pink ones available to download. Bret came home in the mood for music instead of TV, and somehow we wound up having our own personal karaoke session.
This is how it evolved. Bret is continually challenging me on my music knowledge. He's got this crazy notion that he has been musically aware longer than I have. I keep reminding him that I am five years older than him, and my siblings were listening to rock & roll when I was a toddler. Therefore, I was getting exposure to music BEFORE BRET WAS EVEN BORN! And not just rock music, either. My entire family has always been into music, and I grew up hearing my parents play Big Bands, country, show tunes and a variety of other musical genres. He is not going to trip me up with some old classic that I was singing along to while he was still in diapers! But he keeps trying.
He tried again tonight. He'd stacked a variety of songs — everything from Artie Shaw to Techno Babble — in the playlist, choosing them from our extensive music library. Then an old favorite caught his eye, and Bret exclaimed, "Wow, I haven't heard that in years! 'My social life is dirt, my name is really mud . . .' " And I joined in for the next two lines: "I'm up to here in lies. Guess I'm down to size, to si-i-i-i-ize!" Then I turned around to correct him. "Actually, it says, 'My social life's a DUD,' to rhyme with 'My name is really mud'." Bret stared at me in astonishment. "You know this song?" "Of course, I do. 'Talk Talk,' by The Music Machine." "You can't know this song. Nobody's ever heard it but me and my brothers." (I swear, he thinks the Duke boys had their own personal radio station that only they could hear!) I looked at him like he'd sprouted another head. "Are you nuts? That song was a big hit! Anybody our age would know it!" We then launched into a heated argument about A. Was "Talk Talk" a big hit or not? and B. Do the lyrics say "dirt" or "dud"? I know for a fact that I am right on both counts, and was able to easily prove the second by having him search an internet lyrics database.
Well, once we had the lyrics in front of us, Bret decided we had to sing it together. He's been dying to try karaoke, but his self-consciousness in front of people makes him chicken out every time (I, on the other hand, thrive on the attention). Now he's thinking that if we come up with a few songs to sing together, and practice them at home, he won't be so scared to give public karaoke a try. So we sang along to "Talk Talk," and weren't half-bad. And that's how The Dukes' Homemade Karaoke Night began.
We had so much fun with "Talk Talk" that Bret wanted to try some more. We scrolled down the LONG list of songs, debating the pros and cons of various possibilities. How about Janis Joplin? No — easy for me, but Bret would have to become a castrato before he could hit some of her notes. Paul Revere and The Raiders? NO. That prompted another hot debate over whether that group SUCKED (me) or RULED (Bret). We finally settled on Jefferson Airplane's "Triad," a beautiful, unusual love song from their second album. "Are you sure you know the words?" "Oh, yeah. Believe me, I know ALL the words." And he did! But while singing this song, Bret discovered he could harmonize better with me if our heads were close together. No, not just close together, smack up against each other's! Now, that is an odd position to sing in, literally ear-to-ear with someone else. I found it more comfortable if we faced opposite directions, temple against temple.
Bret decided we should try something more upbeat next, so we picked out Joe Cocker's version of "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window." No head-to-head for this one, because in order to get into full Cocker Mode, Bret needed to flail his hands around. As soon as he started that, I burst out laughing and couldn't sing. OK, maybe if I do the Cocker thing, too. So not only did I flail my hands, I rocked and threw my head back and rolled my eyes and made the fish-mouth. Bret just lost it. He literally fell out of his chair laughing. I joined him, and once we could speak again, we decided Cocker songs just were not going to work. We moved on to Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good," for which we had to find the lyrics. Bret wanted to do the head thing again, too. Good thing I knew all the words, because he was facing the computer screen!
The evening ended on the same note it had started with — another old song Bret couldn't believe I knew. And again, I knew every word. He was playing Ray Price's version of "Heartaches By The Number," an old rockabilly song I grew up hearing sung by Johnny Tillotson. I'd never heard of Ray Price before Bret introduced me to him. Nice voice, but his music's too twangy. I don't much care for most of the old-style country music. Give me Toby Keith or Travis Tritt any day.
Next time we hit Acapulco for Karaoke Night, Bret's singing.
This is how it evolved. Bret is continually challenging me on my music knowledge. He's got this crazy notion that he has been musically aware longer than I have. I keep reminding him that I am five years older than him, and my siblings were listening to rock & roll when I was a toddler. Therefore, I was getting exposure to music BEFORE BRET WAS EVEN BORN! And not just rock music, either. My entire family has always been into music, and I grew up hearing my parents play Big Bands, country, show tunes and a variety of other musical genres. He is not going to trip me up with some old classic that I was singing along to while he was still in diapers! But he keeps trying.
He tried again tonight. He'd stacked a variety of songs — everything from Artie Shaw to Techno Babble — in the playlist, choosing them from our extensive music library. Then an old favorite caught his eye, and Bret exclaimed, "Wow, I haven't heard that in years! 'My social life is dirt, my name is really mud . . .' " And I joined in for the next two lines: "I'm up to here in lies. Guess I'm down to size, to si-i-i-i-ize!" Then I turned around to correct him. "Actually, it says, 'My social life's a DUD,' to rhyme with 'My name is really mud'." Bret stared at me in astonishment. "You know this song?" "Of course, I do. 'Talk Talk,' by The Music Machine." "You can't know this song. Nobody's ever heard it but me and my brothers." (I swear, he thinks the Duke boys had their own personal radio station that only they could hear!) I looked at him like he'd sprouted another head. "Are you nuts? That song was a big hit! Anybody our age would know it!" We then launched into a heated argument about A. Was "Talk Talk" a big hit or not? and B. Do the lyrics say "dirt" or "dud"? I know for a fact that I am right on both counts, and was able to easily prove the second by having him search an internet lyrics database.
Well, once we had the lyrics in front of us, Bret decided we had to sing it together. He's been dying to try karaoke, but his self-consciousness in front of people makes him chicken out every time (I, on the other hand, thrive on the attention). Now he's thinking that if we come up with a few songs to sing together, and practice them at home, he won't be so scared to give public karaoke a try. So we sang along to "Talk Talk," and weren't half-bad. And that's how The Dukes' Homemade Karaoke Night began.
We had so much fun with "Talk Talk" that Bret wanted to try some more. We scrolled down the LONG list of songs, debating the pros and cons of various possibilities. How about Janis Joplin? No — easy for me, but Bret would have to become a castrato before he could hit some of her notes. Paul Revere and The Raiders? NO. That prompted another hot debate over whether that group SUCKED (me) or RULED (Bret). We finally settled on Jefferson Airplane's "Triad," a beautiful, unusual love song from their second album. "Are you sure you know the words?" "Oh, yeah. Believe me, I know ALL the words." And he did! But while singing this song, Bret discovered he could harmonize better with me if our heads were close together. No, not just close together, smack up against each other's! Now, that is an odd position to sing in, literally ear-to-ear with someone else. I found it more comfortable if we faced opposite directions, temple against temple.
Bret decided we should try something more upbeat next, so we picked out Joe Cocker's version of "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window." No head-to-head for this one, because in order to get into full Cocker Mode, Bret needed to flail his hands around. As soon as he started that, I burst out laughing and couldn't sing. OK, maybe if I do the Cocker thing, too. So not only did I flail my hands, I rocked and threw my head back and rolled my eyes and made the fish-mouth. Bret just lost it. He literally fell out of his chair laughing. I joined him, and once we could speak again, we decided Cocker songs just were not going to work. We moved on to Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good," for which we had to find the lyrics. Bret wanted to do the head thing again, too. Good thing I knew all the words, because he was facing the computer screen!
The evening ended on the same note it had started with — another old song Bret couldn't believe I knew. And again, I knew every word. He was playing Ray Price's version of "Heartaches By The Number," an old rockabilly song I grew up hearing sung by Johnny Tillotson. I'd never heard of Ray Price before Bret introduced me to him. Nice voice, but his music's too twangy. I don't much care for most of the old-style country music. Give me Toby Keith or Travis Tritt any day.
Next time we hit Acapulco for Karaoke Night, Bret's singing.
