Neo is a self-selected, self-educated, late-blooming but rabid Bee Gee’s fan: A lot of people think the Bee Gees’ lyrics are ho-hum, but although I think I understand why they say that, I don’t agree. They’re not deep poets like Leonard Cohen, whom I also love. They’re not Bob Dylan, whose lyrics are more obscure and complex, whom I don’t especially love. I like the Beatles but I don’t love them, and many of their early lyrics are just bubblegum stuff and many of their later ones are rather nonsensical to me. The Bee Gees’ lyrics often seem simple and mundane till you think about them more; sometimes a word such a “stepped” is very telling. “You Stepped Into My Life” is one of their more simple lyrics, except that in a way it’s brilliant. And the music isn’t simple at all, although it’s catchy as all get-out.
She’s right but this particular video is even more catchy than the experience of sudden-onset-love-syndrome (SOLS). The images in the video perfectly encapsulate the time and the scene that existed in New York City at the time I started what became my career, such as it was. They gave me my own SOLS with New York City. It was a love that lasted for a long time before it burnt out in the ashes of the World Trade Center. Still, if you look at those bits of the city and emblems of the late 70s, shown as it was then in all its grubby glory, you might catch just an echo of my favorite year; the year when New York City stepped into my life.
There were so many bad cars being made during that time. American cars, with the manufacturers still in shock from the 1973 oil embargo, had wasted the warnings of a decade that fuel would not forever decline, relative to inflation, in price. And the Japanese not only made little crackerbox economical rigs, but they were also very reliable. One need not trade it in at 70,000 miles, because it was effectively worn out. Japanese cars ran on, and on.
But it takes an industry that big a long time to turn. Bill Cosby promoted Ford’s new electric paint system. They had it in all of one factory. American cars were big, heavy and had little style, but they made up for it with crap like GM’s 4-6-8 motor and the Mustang II. And the great thing about the Chevy Vega? On need not be embarrassed to have bought it, because it disintegrated into rust so quickly that people weren’t sure if you had one in your driveway ever.
I was a teen, and man, we loved the Trans-Am and the Firebird. Compared to my 2009 Rav4, which has far more horsepower and much better fuel economy, they were crude attempts to convince guys like me that endless pussy awaited the owner of one. And, well, some pussy did, unless you were totally a loser.
Because we were never going to get out of the Town Car with Margeaux on our arm, or be invited down to the basement of 54 to meet the coketender, or especially not up to the DJ booth where Michael Jackson danced alone, a weird kid even then.
A guy might as well blow his money on the Trans-Am, because no one ever got laid in a Toyota Corona. Well, no one but me, perhaps, because those bucket seats reclined all the way back and I had a foam pad cut to fill the gap between them. Birth control seats, a female friend called them. But she was never with me in one of those half-dozen or so special locations where a couple could have some fun.
TeeRoy JenkinsAugust 28, 2022, 12:05 PM
I remember NYC back then. I experienced it as a kid from 66-76. My grandfather was a professor at Colombia and I grew up on the corner of 116th and Amsterdam. Attended school on 121 and 125th streets. My old man (mother’s boyfriend at time) was a cabbie. In the summer I would ride as there was no daycare. I got stories. We left in 76 and I went from that environment to a “commune” in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia. I got stories from that nightmare too! Lol.
Keep the Faith
KerryAugust 28, 2022, 2:54 PM
Culture shock? Wow. You must have had whiplash after that move from NYC to VA.
Sid VAugust 28, 2022, 1:18 PM
I love The Bee Gees, but that song should have been left on the cutting room floor. Lol
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Green Pants Interior by Klahn
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
I prefer their earlier stuff.
THAT’s what I think of when I think of Bee Gees.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDf0R1s6txM
Agreed.
A time when love swelled from the Heart and Soul . . .
No strings attached.
That’s a great song.
Me too ghost.
There were so many bad cars being made during that time. American cars, with the manufacturers still in shock from the 1973 oil embargo, had wasted the warnings of a decade that fuel would not forever decline, relative to inflation, in price. And the Japanese not only made little crackerbox economical rigs, but they were also very reliable. One need not trade it in at 70,000 miles, because it was effectively worn out. Japanese cars ran on, and on.
But it takes an industry that big a long time to turn. Bill Cosby promoted Ford’s new electric paint system. They had it in all of one factory. American cars were big, heavy and had little style, but they made up for it with crap like GM’s 4-6-8 motor and the Mustang II. And the great thing about the Chevy Vega? On need not be embarrassed to have bought it, because it disintegrated into rust so quickly that people weren’t sure if you had one in your driveway ever.
I was a teen, and man, we loved the Trans-Am and the Firebird. Compared to my 2009 Rav4, which has far more horsepower and much better fuel economy, they were crude attempts to convince guys like me that endless pussy awaited the owner of one. And, well, some pussy did, unless you were totally a loser.
Because we were never going to get out of the Town Car with Margeaux on our arm, or be invited down to the basement of 54 to meet the coketender, or especially not up to the DJ booth where Michael Jackson danced alone, a weird kid even then.
A guy might as well blow his money on the Trans-Am, because no one ever got laid in a Toyota Corona. Well, no one but me, perhaps, because those bucket seats reclined all the way back and I had a foam pad cut to fill the gap between them. Birth control seats, a female friend called them. But she was never with me in one of those half-dozen or so special locations where a couple could have some fun.
I remember NYC back then. I experienced it as a kid from 66-76. My grandfather was a professor at Colombia and I grew up on the corner of 116th and Amsterdam. Attended school on 121 and 125th streets. My old man (mother’s boyfriend at time) was a cabbie. In the summer I would ride as there was no daycare. I got stories. We left in 76 and I went from that environment to a “commune” in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia. I got stories from that nightmare too! Lol.
Keep the Faith
Culture shock? Wow. You must have had whiplash after that move from NYC to VA.
I love The Bee Gees, but that song should have been left on the cutting room floor. Lol