Real Things: Accept No Substitutes
So, yeah, anyway, I've been sort of swamped, drowning, la la whatever, which explains why I haven't posted here in a couple of weeks. Neveryoumind.
I've been thinking about Real Things, about a refusal to accept substitutions.
This came about because I was listening to Fitz and the Tantrums singing "Don't Gotta Work It Out," a song best characterized as New New Blue-Eyed Soul. The lead singer's hair and styling seems to harken back, not to the 60s but to the 80s Anglo-Soul movement. (Imagine my surprise to learn the group's from L.A.)
Okay, so this particular song is hooky as hell, with fun 80s synth bits and a propulsive chorus -- but after two listens, I found myself thinking that the lead singer's voice is too thin, or perhaps too ordinary, for the true 80s New Blue-Eyed Soul I associated with English singers. I wanted the chocolate of Tony Hadley, the gin-and-tonic of Martin Fry. (Early solo Robbie Williams could do it, too, when he chose not to be all 90s stadium anthems.)
Or hey, what about something less poppy but more, er, potent -- like Bryan Ferry.. Accept no substitutes.
I may think more on this, about other things for which I won't accept substitutes. (Cowboy boots, looseleaf tea, comedies of manners, Tom Quinn and Adam Carter on Spooks...) But as I ponder the possibilities, I offer the question to you.
What for you is a Real Thing, for which you Accept No Substitutes?
May you find plenty of Real Things in the Days Ahead!
I've been thinking about Real Things, about a refusal to accept substitutions.
This came about because I was listening to Fitz and the Tantrums singing "Don't Gotta Work It Out," a song best characterized as New New Blue-Eyed Soul. The lead singer's hair and styling seems to harken back, not to the 60s but to the 80s Anglo-Soul movement. (Imagine my surprise to learn the group's from L.A.)
Okay, so this particular song is hooky as hell, with fun 80s synth bits and a propulsive chorus -- but after two listens, I found myself thinking that the lead singer's voice is too thin, or perhaps too ordinary, for the true 80s New Blue-Eyed Soul I associated with English singers. I wanted the chocolate of Tony Hadley, the gin-and-tonic of Martin Fry. (Early solo Robbie Williams could do it, too, when he chose not to be all 90s stadium anthems.)
Or hey, what about something less poppy but more, er, potent -- like Bryan Ferry.. Accept no substitutes.
I may think more on this, about other things for which I won't accept substitutes. (Cowboy boots, looseleaf tea, comedies of manners, Tom Quinn and Adam Carter on Spooks...) But as I ponder the possibilities, I offer the question to you.
What for you is a Real Thing, for which you Accept No Substitutes?
May you find plenty of Real Things in the Days Ahead!