Monday, March 20, 2006

Remembering the 70s Through Music

Ah, Bread. What wonderful memories. "Diary" was a nice song. But it's a song about a lost love. I'd rather look at a song of unfailing, unconditional love.

Here's the second verse of a classic:

by David Gates

If a man could be two places at one time,
I'd be with you.
Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.
If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,
I'd spend the end with you.
And when the world was through,
Then one by one the stars would all go out,
Then you and I would simply fly away.

Read that to yourself real slowly. You just gotta cry.

The 70s were like a huge sigh of relief that the 60s were finally over. The 60s were dreadful. It seemed like everything was falling apart. But by the 70s, we were kinda turning a corner and it seemed like maybe things were going to be okay.

The war was winding down. We were losing it, but we didn't care. We had landed a man on the Moon — been there, done that. Americans were going into space somewhat regularly, and occasionally meeting up with Russians once they got there. Inflation was in double digits. And gas prices were (gasp) approaching a dollar a gallon. But, hey, we had a president that was telling us that he couldn't do anything about it, and we just kinda adjusted our salaries and kept going. It was a very naive time.

And the music reflected it. Songs of the 60s were dirty, were radical. But in the 70s, they turned sweet. In the 60s, they sang about love, but they really meant sex. In the 70s, they sang about love and they really meant commitment.

Suddenly, television was in color! I remember our first color TV. We got it somewhere around 1972. We lived in a little town and could only get three stations with lousy reception. I remember that I was amazed that even the "snow" on the TV was in color!

A few years ago, I bought a new car with a really nice CD player in it. One of the first things I did was buy a CD of The Carpenter's greatest hits. It was wonderful. Karen Carpenter could melt my heart just by smiling, let alone by singing love songs. When she sang "Just like me, they long to be close to you" she was singing to me!

That Labor Day, everybody was at my mother's house. I told my brother we were going to go for a ride through town in my new car. Actually, I just wanted to get him alone with Karen Carpenter. Yep, I popped the CD in, his face beamed, and we sang every word of every song together.

Music from the 70s was sweet and mushy, just like chocolate pudding. And that's the way I want to remember it.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wore my Carpenter's album out...TWICE! Why do they never play them on the oldie station?

Kay (Katie's mom)