The B-52’s
Most people have a “coming of age,” musically.
Your early exposure to music is completely at the mercy of your parents.
The songs I associate with my young childhood - going to the bank or the grocery store or the post office with my mom - are classic 90’s pop. It wasn’t until I had graduated from college that I realized my mom wasn’t necessarily a fan of 90’s music, but that she’d been listening to Top 40 music in the 90’s.
I have distinct memories of Gloria Estefan playing in the background while my sister and I goofed off in the living room, and of my mom yelling from the kitchen that we had to stop jumping around because we were making the CD skip.
On Saturday mornings, I’d lay on the floor in my parents bedroom while my dad played 80’s rock on the radio.
At some point in your elementary school years, you had the chance to uncover your own taste in music. You listened to what friends or siblings or babysitters were listening to, and you pretended to like it. You decided which songs your parents played in the car were ones you liked or didn’t like.
While I got my fair share of Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears, my primary musical interests centered around classic rock. I begged for a “Best of Billy Joel” album for my tenth birthday. I listen to more Simon & Garfunkel and Elton John than anyone I know.
But my musical awakening? The B-52s.
For those of you born after 1980 - the B-52’s were a new wave pop rock band that hit their peak in the 80s. They’re recognizable by the sprechgesang style of their lead singer - Fred Schneider, whose lead vocals were usually loud spoken word over the rest of the music.
My love for the B-52’s wasn’t even shared with the full discography. I was just really, really, really into Cosmic Thing.
(Thank goodness, because I watched the Rock Lobster video while writing this, and I won’t claim it.)
I had stumbled across the Cosmic Thing cassette tape in a drawer at 7 years old, snooping through my parents’ collection. (Some things never change, eh? Dad, this is my way of saying I stole your Andrew Gold album when I moved out, and you’ll never get it back.)
I’d play the entire cassette all the way through on my tape recorder, then I’d rewind and listen to Love Shack again and again and again. In a feeble attempt to defend myself here, I would like to point out that Love Shack was named the Best Single of 1989 by Rolling Stone, and is listed somewhere in the middle of their 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.
The other day I actually listened to the words of Love Shack for the first time. And in retrospect, it was a little weird that I got so hung up on a song that is either about a structurally unsound dance club or a roadside brothel.
According to the internet, “Love Shack” was a popular name for adult video stores following the release of this song. There is also a 2010 movie that went straight to DVD entitled Love Shack, about a group of porn stars who get together to make a film in honor of a deceased producer.
At one point in the chorus it is referred to as “the love getaway,” which actually makes it sound like a very pleasant and affordable Airbnb location. And when I re-watch the music video today, it does look like a bunch of my parents’ friends having a very embarrassing dance party in a very colorful barn.
Do I at least get cool points for being an early adopter of RuPaul?