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| Rise and shine! |
Let's have a knock down, drag out rock 'n' roll party in the streets
Get all the boys together have them tell
everybody that they meet
Friday night at midnight we're all gonna get what we need
Let's have a knock down, drag out rock 'n' roll party in the streets
Up until this morning, whenever I thought of "Rock and Roll Party in the Streets," which wasn't very often, I thought the lyrics in the chorus were "Get all the boys together, have 'em tell everybody their baby." Which, in 1982 when the album was released and I was 14, didn't seem so odd. I thought all the boys were going to get together and confide in each other:
Boy 1: C'mon, tell us who you like! Who's your baby?
Boy 2: Ok, ok, but promise not to tell!
All the Boys: We promise!
Boy 2: Well ... I think Jackie is really pretty!
All the Boys: Yay!
Boy 2: Ok, now your turn!
Today, I Googled the lyrics and learned my error. I like my interpretation better.
"Go for Soda" by some guy named Kim Mitchell was another song that enjoyed a brief blip on the airwaves when I was in high school:
Might as well go for a soda
Nobody hurts and nobody cries
Might as well go for a soda
Nobody drowns and nobody dies.
Up until this morning, whenever I thought of "Go for Soda," I thought the song was about alcohol abstinence. Today I Googled the lyrics and learned it appears the song is about choosing soda over love.
Friday night at midnight we're all gonna get what we need
Let's have a knock down, drag out rock 'n' roll party in the streets
Up until this morning, whenever I thought of "Rock and Roll Party in the Streets," which wasn't very often, I thought the lyrics in the chorus were "Get all the boys together, have 'em tell everybody their baby." Which, in 1982 when the album was released and I was 14, didn't seem so odd. I thought all the boys were going to get together and confide in each other:
Boy 1: C'mon, tell us who you like! Who's your baby?
Boy 2: Ok, ok, but promise not to tell!
All the Boys: We promise!
Boy 2: Well ... I think Jackie is really pretty!
All the Boys: Yay!
Boy 2: Ok, now your turn!
Today, I Googled the lyrics and learned my error. I like my interpretation better.
"Go for Soda" by some guy named Kim Mitchell was another song that enjoyed a brief blip on the airwaves when I was in high school:
Might as well go for a soda
Nobody hurts and nobody cries
Might as well go for a soda
Nobody drowns and nobody dies.
Up until this morning, whenever I thought of "Go for Soda," I thought the song was about alcohol abstinence. Today I Googled the lyrics and learned it appears the song is about choosing soda over love.
Guy: Hey, baby, let's make love!
Girl: (Hands guy a soda) Now, nobody
drowns and nobody dies.
That's stupid.
Then there's Kiss. At age 11, I played "Rock and Roll Over" and "Love
Gun" endlessly.
From "Mr. Speed:"
You try pleasin', but gettin' on your knees don't make it.
From "Doctor Love:"
And even though I'm full of sin,
In the end you'll let me in ...
So if you please get on your knees
There are no bills, there are no fees.
From "Plaster Caster:"
Plaster caster, grab a hold of me faster
And if you wanna see my love, just ask her
And my love is the plaster
And yeah, she's the collector
She wants me all the time to inject her.
Apparently, there was a lot of begging going on, all that "getting on the knees" business and what not. Understand, I sung these lyrics over and over, loudly, while wearing headphones. Anyone passing by would hear my acapella, 11-year old voice singing about Gene's "love." Which I thought was love in the literal sense. I though the woman he was singing about wanted to be "injected" with his love; like murmuring sweet nothings or something. I certainly didn't think he was singing about his nasty old Gene peen.
My girlfriends and I all had our favorite Kiss members. Mine was Peter Criss, with his sweet kitty makeup. Ace was too elusive, Paul too hairy, Gene too scary. Peter was safely sexy back there behind his drum kit, minding his own business, coming out only to croon to his beloved Beth. Peter never sang about his "love," either. He sung about Baby Drivers and Hard Luck Women.
From "Mr. Speed:"
You try pleasin', but gettin' on your knees don't make it.
From "Doctor Love:"
And even though I'm full of sin,
In the end you'll let me in ...
So if you please get on your knees
There are no bills, there are no fees.
From "Plaster Caster:"
Plaster caster, grab a hold of me faster
And if you wanna see my love, just ask her
And my love is the plaster
And yeah, she's the collector
She wants me all the time to inject her.
Apparently, there was a lot of begging going on, all that "getting on the knees" business and what not. Understand, I sung these lyrics over and over, loudly, while wearing headphones. Anyone passing by would hear my acapella, 11-year old voice singing about Gene's "love." Which I thought was love in the literal sense. I though the woman he was singing about wanted to be "injected" with his love; like murmuring sweet nothings or something. I certainly didn't think he was singing about his nasty old Gene peen.
My girlfriends and I all had our favorite Kiss members. Mine was Peter Criss, with his sweet kitty makeup. Ace was too elusive, Paul too hairy, Gene too scary. Peter was safely sexy back there behind his drum kit, minding his own business, coming out only to croon to his beloved Beth. Peter never sang about his "love," either. He sung about Baby Drivers and Hard Luck Women.
I tell you what, though: even back then, I thought his solo album sucked.
Prince, now. Prince was a saucy little sex machine of a completely different color. Even though I was older and wiser at 16 when I discovered him, the lyrics to "When You Were Mine" went sailing right over my head.
"You didn't have the decency to change the sheets" sung Prince.
Kim's Mom, overhearing: "Change the what?"
Kim: (eyeroll, exasperated sigh) "KEY. Duh!"
I though Prince's girlfriend kicked him out and she couldn't even be bothered to change the key.
Which granted, makes no fucking sense.
I almost never got the dirty references in songs. I surely didn't know "She-Bop" and "Miss Me Blind" were about masturbation. Nor did I grasp really what AC/DC meant when they sung about being shook all night long. While I did get their "Let's Get It Up" reference, "Loose lips, sink ships," meant merely not telling secrets to me. And I know for a fact all those kids in their "Frankie say RELAX" t-shirts had no clue they were walking billboards for prolonged (gay!) sex. I sure didn't.
Thing is, I probably looked like the kind of girl who not only got all those references but maybe even performed them. Black eyeliner, tight designer jeans, leather jacket, sucking on my Newports, I looked like a "tough girl." I supposed I wanted everyone to think I was Pat Benatar, but really I was more Amy Grant when it came to the sexy stuff.
Party hardy, rock and roll!
Drink a 5th, smoke a bowl!
Sex is great, we get our kicks!
We're the class of '86!
I have no idea who composed that bit o' poetry, but once I heard it I commenced writing that crap on desktops and in yearbooks all over the damn place. A lot of us did. However, I was getting very little "kicks." I found out quickly that my hypersensitivity couldn't handle any "bowls" and while I have may have drank a wine cooler or two in the woods, I couldn't have begun to tell you if "sex was great" or not.
Maybe it was that I disliked overt sexuality. Still do. As such, maybe my hearing was selective - which is why subtle little Peter Criss did it for me and not Gene the Peen.
Or maybe not.
Could be I was just a dumb ass who didn't get anything.
In any case, next time you're thinking about having a knock down drag out rock and party in streets but you can't decide what to wear, I suggest you play Marvin's "Let's Get It On." That will not only help you decide what to put on, but it might also bring your love down. You don't want him/her to stay upstairs all night, do you?
Prince, now. Prince was a saucy little sex machine of a completely different color. Even though I was older and wiser at 16 when I discovered him, the lyrics to "When You Were Mine" went sailing right over my head.
"You didn't have the decency to change the sheets" sung Prince.
Kim's Mom, overhearing: "Change the what?"
Kim: (eyeroll, exasperated sigh) "KEY. Duh!"
I though Prince's girlfriend kicked him out and she couldn't even be bothered to change the key.
Which granted, makes no fucking sense.
I almost never got the dirty references in songs. I surely didn't know "She-Bop" and "Miss Me Blind" were about masturbation. Nor did I grasp really what AC/DC meant when they sung about being shook all night long. While I did get their "Let's Get It Up" reference, "Loose lips, sink ships," meant merely not telling secrets to me. And I know for a fact all those kids in their "Frankie say RELAX" t-shirts had no clue they were walking billboards for prolonged (gay!) sex. I sure didn't.
Thing is, I probably looked like the kind of girl who not only got all those references but maybe even performed them. Black eyeliner, tight designer jeans, leather jacket, sucking on my Newports, I looked like a "tough girl." I supposed I wanted everyone to think I was Pat Benatar, but really I was more Amy Grant when it came to the sexy stuff.
Party hardy, rock and roll!
Drink a 5th, smoke a bowl!
Sex is great, we get our kicks!
We're the class of '86!
I have no idea who composed that bit o' poetry, but once I heard it I commenced writing that crap on desktops and in yearbooks all over the damn place. A lot of us did. However, I was getting very little "kicks." I found out quickly that my hypersensitivity couldn't handle any "bowls" and while I have may have drank a wine cooler or two in the woods, I couldn't have begun to tell you if "sex was great" or not.
Maybe it was that I disliked overt sexuality. Still do. As such, maybe my hearing was selective - which is why subtle little Peter Criss did it for me and not Gene the Peen.
Or maybe not.
Could be I was just a dumb ass who didn't get anything.
In any case, next time you're thinking about having a knock down drag out rock and party in streets but you can't decide what to wear, I suggest you play Marvin's "Let's Get It On." That will not only help you decide what to put on, but it might also bring your love down. You don't want him/her to stay upstairs all night, do you?
