You were warned. You took the necessary precautions and bought the required provisions. You didn't waste your energy trying to master long divisions. It's time for another what I hope you'll discover to be another scintillating round of "Which same title song is worth its weight in wordplay?" This go round the title under the microscope is "I Can't Wait". Our lovely contestants both had hit songs with the title in 1986, the year when Swatch watches (lovely to look at but had no lasting power whatsoever) were a hot fashion trend. I should know since I owned a see-through jellyfish among other varieties. In the red corner, fighting out of Portland, Oregon, the city Austin used to resemble before half of California decided it wanted to go Lone Star, too, I give you John Smith and Valerie Day, better know in pop circles as Nu Shooz. I'm not even going to try to make sense of the corresponding video. Something about seeing a woman playing around with mechanical objects at a desk with a faux desert backdrop (note the cactus plant) combined with a sunglasses sporting pooch that makes me wonder if I should up the dose or cut back on the dose of whatever I've gotten high on. This song was the act's one-hit wonder moment of glory, peaking at #3 in Billboard. It's easy to see (at least I think so) what the attraction was. Theirs is a melting pot mix of weirdness that came together to form a delightful tune just animated enough to be danceable but at the same time Mrs. Butterworth's syrup slow. I wouldn't necessarily say the tortoise from The Tortoise and The Hare would find this a fun listening experience but the pacing isn't too many notches faster than that. It's well stirred stew, pure and simple. Want horns dotting your listening landscape? Consider it done. How about some sprightly pianos ? Done. Maybe even some faint traces of slow roasting guitar? They aim to please. And some synths that fall in the same hearing zone as laughing gas. The drums have a persistent thwack about them and, for good measure they've thrown in some percussion that sounds like free range improv pounded out along the sides of the studio walls. Does anybody out there remember the '80s toy fad called The Koosh? Essentially what this was was a multi-colored ball comprised of linguini thin rubber bands. It was heftier than a hacky sack and, unfortunately provided much more eye appeal than an actual joyful way to pass the time. You could throw it against a wall or possibly try to kick it as one would a hacky sack but, beyond that, like a Swatch watch, it was all about appearances, eye candy, no more no less. This "I Can't Wait" is the Koosh curiosity of mid-'80s dance music. Lots of nuts and bolts welded together to form a curiosity that got people's pulses cranking. What's ironic about this "I Can't Wait" is that, despite Valerie's romantic pleas for answers, the beat buffeting her doesn't sound like it's in nearly that much of a hurry. I picture Valerie trying to get her lost in fog boyfriend to give her a sign about where their relationship is going doomed to not get the same level of commitment from him that she's prepared to give back. She wants him to tell her what's on her mind, tell her he'll never have to say goodbye. A little reassurance that he hasn't packed his bags, paid the front desk clerk, and officially checked out of the relationship altogether. If you really want to hear for yourself how bizarre the laughing gas synths get check out the closing notes of the extended version of this song found on the duo's "Poolside" album. The last notes drop to a spleen level range before being tossed into the aural ocean as it where. It sort of resembles the mafia pushing it off a pier to drown. Two points for them deciding to conclude on a note that's way below sea/C level. Not going to forgot how that sounds anytime soon. As much I like the song for being warm and fuzzy and the duo for exploring off the beaten path dance arrangements they're guilty of unloading mixed messages on us. She can't wait but the rhythms take their time to make it to the front door. We've already gotten in the car and sped off but that song is threatening to tread water and pant and gasp. If you can't wait time is usually of the essence. This is true for invasive surgery, corporate mergers, and deathbed confessionals. "I Can't Wait" needs to suggest "Let's get on with us before neither of us gets the closure we seek.
In the blue corner, coming to us from Phoenix, Arizona, we have a woman for whom transcendent concert experiences fall into the category of "Just another day at the office". Whether solo or as a vital link in Fleetwood Mac, she's made a lot of music lovers deliriously happy and hopefully will do so for many more years to come. Stevie Nicks is the textbook definition of a juggernaut. In 1985 she came out with "Rock a Little". The "I Can't Wait" on said album rocks a lot. Now we've got some horses in the tank Right from the start everything leaps out at you like flood waters waiting to pounce. A surge of keyboard rises from the phoenix ashes and then Stevie belts out in a voice that could bring beneficial rains to drying prairie land: "YES, I KNOW YOU!!!" Cue the butt kicking blast of drums. Then comes a guitar served to you with a take no prisoners sneer. It's Stevie's universe and she's invited you to explore just one of the many exotic facets said universe provides. What levels of torments she's provided her female lead with in this passion play. Sleep provides this ingenue no rest at all. Then she wakes up believing the sad so and so she was loathe to trust in the waking hours. In this instance "I Can't Wait" is about anticipation. When will I see you? Make up your mind!! C'mon!! Tempus fugit!! If you can't smell the urgency there's something fundamentally wrong with you. Please thrust your arms through the screen so I can hug your troubles, worries, misgivings, and fears away. As is the case with a number of Fleetwood Mac songs, Stevie's solo efforts aren't mere attempts to move product off the shelves, they are whiz bang no expense spared production numbers. These are Christmas stockings filled to the rim with pixie like magic. Want to know how Stevie's aged so amazingly? Take a listen to her unrestrained delivery. There isn't a drop of angst left to be experienced. The only negative I find in "I Can't Wait" is during the sequence leading to the bridge. Stevie sounds like she came down from the cocaine she swears she was on during a lot of her '80s videos. The sound of agony streaming from her lips seems horrifyingly painful. Don't believe me? YouTube the video and you might find yourself scratching your head as well. If that's Stevie's artistic translation of bamboo shoots up the fingernails then I'll do my best not to piss off a dictator of one of those countries that doesn't have much use for respecting human rights. In short, in the "I Can't Wait" wars Stevie buries Nu Shooz under mountains of motorcycle tread marks. Yes, it's true the former song is centered in dance while the latter is a pop rock power bomb but it's all about making the most of the parameters you've been given. Stevie conveys how rough playing the waiting game can truly be. She both comes on and goes out like gangbusters. She gets the message.
No comments:
Post a Comment