Giants under the sun

For some unknown reason, Sonic likes to pump 80s music throughout their rather fab fast food franchises. Probably because, for some unknown reason, some people actually enjoy 80s music. Yeah, I know...the music is fun. Whee. Well, so are water slides but you don't see me clamoring for more of them now do you?

Anyway, during our weekly Saturday night Sonic stop for ice cream, Marisol and I were pummelled by the usual 80s soundtrack: Madonna, Culture Club, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam with Full Force, etc. Since she has a much greater patience for things in general, but 80s music in particular, Marisol sang along to the occasional song. We lamented how much of a wasted talent Boy George was. (There's probably a pun in that previous sentence, but I'm not sure how much of a "talent" Boy George actually was.) It was all very intense and as riveting as any discussion on the oeuvre of some late-20th century cross-dressing, singing sensation could possibly be. Perhaps even more so. Perhaps not.

As I'm sitting there wondering how this all relates to post-modern gender roles and eating my hot fudge sundae--mostly eating my hot fudge sundae, on comes Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes, one of my all-time favorite musical combos. I've seen them numerous times through the years. I have all the albums, including multiple copies of most of them. I can bore even the most disinterested with all manner of minutiae on the band, from line-up changes to the equipment used on which song. I can even tell you why Savannah, Georgia, of all places, plays a role in Yes history. Though vilified by some in the critical community as being the sole reason Punk had to happen, I'll gladly, willingly and continuously defend Yes and their entire genre (Prog) until the day I die. So there.

That being said I really have no need to ever hear Owner of a Lonely Heart again. Sure, it's a catchy tune and somehow managed to find its way to the top of the charts, the first and last time of Yes' career. Its video even made these prog rock gods, brief stars of MTV. Surprising since to it's still one of the more bizarre videos I've run across to this day. This would probably be a good place to put that very video. Oh well.

But back to my Sonic evening, Marisol is not much of a fan of repetition in music. Though she doesn't realize it and couldn't care less, she's very much of the punk ethos of song structure: get in, get out. There's been a few times I've heard her singing along to something and then after the third repeat of the chorus announcing, "Okay, that's enough of that. Let's move on to the next song." It's actually kind of cute the way she does it and doesn't really realize it. I'm sure you agree.

So during the seemingly endless fadeout of Owner of a Lonely Heart, she quit caring if the protagonist's freewill is deceived at all and demands an end to the song now. Look, I may not need to hear the song again, but as stated above, this is the fighting side of me she's dangerously close to walkin' on.

Marisol: "Enough. Geesh. New song, let's go."

Me: "You know Yes is just about the end all, be all for me. Even if I don't want to hear this song again."

Marisol: "Yeah." What she really means is "So. I don't come to you with my problems." Actually, she does, but that's sort of beside the point.

Me: "You'd really love one of their 20-minute epics. They go through all sorts of sections and changes. Awesome. Why, did you know Yes put out a double album with only four songs on it?" This sort of knowledge usually drives women wild. It also explains my tremendous success with them.

Marisol: "Uh...why?" She answers unimpressed, without missing a beat and with a succinctness that would make Lester Bangs proud if he wasn't dead.

Me: "Uh, well because...they just did. That's why. It's all about the search for the meaning of life, God, creation and Lord knows what else. But it's all very deep and means SOMETHING. Apparently. These songs needed breathing room. They couldn't possibly have been contained within the tradition 4-minute pop song structure. It is possible that Yes was high back then."

I paused to give her a chance to process the profound knowledge which I had only just began imparting on her. Letting the silence linger, I was confident that she was formulating a question that would demand more of this esoterica. That I could help her navigate these Topographic Oceans as it were. Finally the silence was broken.

Marisol: "Did they give us any napkins?"

And I didn't even get to tell her about the bass solo on side four. Shucks.