It’s a drizzly, chilly August day and I need something to get my blood pumping. I need a song with power and speed, something wild and angry. Shortnin’ Bread isn’t doing it, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes can’t quite stir me, not even the Mighty Mighty Bosstones can bring me up with their slash-and-burn cover of Enter Sandman. I try David Byrne with Forro in the Dark, with The BPA, and by himself. Nothing. I listen to mashups and Union Underground, Nuclear Rabbit and Refused, Prince and Queen. I try Magic Johnson, which never fails. It does. Even Black Betty and Ministry can’t catch my interest.
So what is a music freak to do when she just can’t find that perfect song? Go completely the other direction, of course. I cranked up some old-school Motown and grooved to Agent Double-O Soul, Heeby Jeebies, and—a family favorite—I Spy (for the FBI). Ah, those days of radio innocence, regardless of the poor behavior up to which those folks got outside of the recording studio. I don't know why I don't post them here more. To rectify that, I’ll include Apples Peaches Pumpkin Pie, Betty Harris’ Ride Your Pony, and the ever-strange stalker favorite I Spy (for the FBI).
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