You have great self-control, I would have felt compelled to put American Pie dead last.
1 Like
had I been microbet, I might have chosen Don McLean’s other semi-hit, Vincent, for this category.
That was an option I considered. This won’t be the last time where I have no idea what to do with a song everybody and their grandma knows.
From an intial listen I couldn’t tell you if would have ended up higher or lower. Definitely not near at the top or bottom.
In 6th place, scoring 11 points, @NotBruceZ with Frankie And Johnny by Sam Cooke
I am typically not a huge fan of pop and r&b songs from that era. They are for the most part too clean cut and/or cliched love songs. This song starts out the same way but then adds some flair with increased energy. The noir lyrics leave just the tiniest bit of ambiguity if he really cheated on her and she shot him for no reason. Solid.
Frankie and Johnny was sweethearts
At least that’s the way the story goes
Frankie bought everything for Johnny
From his sports car to his Ivy League clothes
Oh, he was a man alright
Oh, but he was doing her wrong
Just to show you what can happen
A friend came running to Frankie
She said you know I wouldn’t tell you no lie
I saw your man riding in his Jaguar
With a chick named Nellie Blye
Oh, if he was your man, honey
Let me tell you he was doing you wrong
Let me tell the story
Frankie ran around the corner
And peeked in a swinging place
And there she saw Johnny with a woman
He had his arms around her waist
Oh, he was a man alright
But Frankie could see that he was doing her wrong
And oh, let me tell you
Frankie reached down in her pocketbook
And up with a long forty-four
She shot once, twice, three times
And Johnny fell on the hard wood floor
Oh, he was a man alright
But she shot him because he was doing her wrong
But the last thing he told her was
Frankie, you know I love you
Why? Honey, why did you do that?
Frankie, I was telling her about you
Frankie, you know I love you
Frankie, you know that I love you
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Now Frankie, you know good and well that I love you
Frankie, I’ll always love you, baby
Frankie, you know I can’t do without you
Frankie, you know I love you
And I know, and I know I was doing you wrong
Wrong, wrong, wrong, let me tell you
Frankie, baby, you know I love you
Frankie
1 Like
My first impression is that he ends up lower but maintains his dignity.
2 Likes
Don McLean on Vincent Van Gogh:
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen nowFor they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life, as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you
Don McLean on the Rolling Stones (Jack Flash is Mick Jagger, due to the Stones song Jumpin’ Jack Flash):
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
'Cause fire is the devil’s only friendOh and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan’s spellAnd as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
Yeah bro, tell me more about how open minded you would have been about new art back in the day.
These lines are about how the hell’s angels were hired as security for a Rolling Stones concert and killed someone, right?
1 Like
Yeah, the Altamont Speedway concert. I think he just didn’t like Jagger or the Stones in general though.
Brief intermission for some trivia:
How many recordings are there of Frankie and Johnny?
- 1
- 2
- 4
- 8
- 16
- 32
- 64
- 128
- 256
0
voters
Answer:
At least 256 recordings of “Frankie and Johnny” have been made since the early 20th century.
How did Sam Cooke die?
Cooke died at the age of 33 on December 11, 1964, at the Hacienda Motel, in Los Angeles, California. Answering separate reports of a shooting and of a kidnapping at the motel, police found Cooke’s body, clad only in a sports jacket and shoes but no shirt, pants or underwear. He had sustained a gunshot wound to the chest, which was later determined to have pierced his heart.[50] The motel’s manager, Bertha Franklin, said she had shot Cooke in self-defense after he broke into her office residence and attacked her.
Tier 4: Page Turners
In 5th place, scoring 12 points, @Pauwl with The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll by Bob Dylan
Exhibit B for how Dylan is a better (song-)writer than singer. It follows his usual formula but this engages me emotionally in a way that Fourth Time Around in 11th place did not. Maybe because Dylan himself seems more invested and the lyrics carry more weight.
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gathering
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn’t even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
And you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain’t pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught ‘em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now’s the time for your tears
1 Like
In 4th place, scoring 13 points, JohnnyTruant with Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Grenada Last Night by The Coup
We get basically one beat that goes on for 7 minutes and the background singers hum 2 notes on a loop. I don’t care for the chorus either. This could have been a disaster. While it isn’t exceptional musically the song scores highly on the lyric side. It tells an engrossing tale which has a few twists in store. It undoubtedly excels in that aspect and suits this category especially well. That’s enough for me to enjoy this song.
I am going to post the lyrics as a link. We’re already scrolling as if nunnehi was posting ITT.
https://www.metrolyrics.com/me-and-jesus-the-pimp-in-a-79-granada-last-night-lyrics-the-coup.html
3 Likes
With this we have reached the podium stage of the competition.
And the bronze medal goes to …
I’m officially butthurt
In 3rd place, scoring 14 points, @skydiver8 with The Lighthouse’s Tale by Nickel Creek
For starters, I am a sucker for tragic-romantic stories. It’s beautifully sung and the mandolin and violin keep this from being just another dull acoustic guitar song.
I liked this a bit more at first. Over time I couldn’t help but notice the song’s saccharine qualities. Due to the lack of serious competitors this piece of cheese gets to step on the podium
I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.
I keep my lamp lit, to warn the sailors on their way.
I’ll tell a story, paint you a picture from my past.
I was so happy, but joy in this life seldom lasts.
I had a keeper, he helped me warn the ships at sea.
We had grown closer, 'till his joy meant everything to me.
And he was to marry, a girl who shone with beauty and light.
And they loved each other,
And with me watched the sunsets into night.
And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.
And the winds that blow remind me,
Of what has been, and what can never be.
She’d had to leave us, my keeper he prayed for a safe return.
But when the night came,
The weather to a raging storm had turned.
He watched her ship fight,
But in vain against the wild and terrible wind.
In me so helpless, as dashed against the rock she met her end.
And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.
And the winds that blow remind me,
Of what has been, and what can never be.
Then on the next day, my keeper found her washed up on the shore.
He kissed her cold face,
That they’d be together soon he’d swore.
I saw him crying, watched as he buried her in the sand.
And then he climbed my tower, and off of the edge of me he ran.
And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.
And the winds that blow remind me,
Of what has been, and what can never be.
I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.
And though I am empty, I still warn the sailors on their way.
3 Likes
1 Like
holy shit…in an UnstuckPolitics first…i have made a walrus podium!
4 Likes
Tier 5: Pulitzer Prize
In 2nd place, scoring 15 points, @Lawnmover_Man with To France by Mike Oldfield
You really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head sideways when reading the lyrics to make out a story. Don’t take “Never get to France” literally and it could be about the life of Mary, Queen of Scots. I chose to do all that because I love this song because only one other song came close and that one is sitting pretty in first place.
I also recommend the cover version by Blind Guardian.
Taking on water,
Sailing a restless sea
From a memory,
A fantasy.
The wind carries
Into white water,
Far from the islands.
Don’t you know you’re
Never going to get to France.
Mary, Queen of Chance, will they find you?
Never going to get to France.
Could a new romance ever bind you?
Walking on foreign ground,
Like a shadow,
Roaming in far off
Territory.
Over your shoulder,
Stories unfold, you’re
Searching for sanctuary.
You know you’re
Never going to get to France…
I see a picture
By the lamp’s flicker.
Isn’t it strange how
Dreams fade and shimmer?
Never going to get to France…
I see a picture
By the lamp’s flicker.
Isn’t it strange how
Dreams fade and shimmer?
Never going to get to France…
Never going to get to France.
Never going to…
Never going to get to France.
Never going to…
Never going to get to France.
Never going to…
1 Like
Clearly you have much more sophisticated taste in music than that previous Walrus guy. He was like Salieri struggling to keep up with my Mixtape Mozart-ry.
Edit: Unless you just missed me somehow. Which would be hilarious.
3 Likes
In 1st place, scoring 16 points, Suzzer99 with The Wreck of the Edmunds Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot
It was immediately a gold medal favorite because it’s such a great fit for the category. It finished half a length ahead of Mike Oldfield because of that. This is like listening to a modern day bard. A beautiful voice tells you a great sad story while the guitar hits all the right notes. Not too soft, not too harsh, just right for this tragic tale.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T’was the witch of November come stealin’
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’
When afternoon came it was freezin’ rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin’
Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya
At seven p.m., a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it’s been good to know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind 'er
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors’ cathedral
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
1 Like