By Ted Kluck
“That’s the best use of ‘Bla, bla, bla,’ in a song, ever,” I told the group in my car. “That’s the Apex Mountain of the phrase, ‘Bla, bla, bla.’” I was of course referring to Biz Markie’s hit “Just a Friend,” which was a joke hip-hop song from the 90s that actually tells a very sad and above-average story, and is very singable. See also: The Humpty Dance, by Digital Underground (best reference to a Burger King bathroom in a song, ever).
People in my car: Seth Horton (C&C Sports Editor), Brent Walker (C&C Managing Editor), Austin “Dad Calves” Maddox (C&C Features Editor), me.
Declarations made in my car, post-trip: That the four of us will get together once a year, every year, until we’re all dead, and just drive around for two days listening to songs.
Musical Categories Explored: Dirtbag metal from the 80s, Grunge, 90s Hip-Hop, Hip-Hop in general, mid-2000s pop/punk, R&B with Girls Singing, Feeling Conflicted About R. Kelly.
Aside about SEJC itself: SEJC stands for Southeast Journalism Conference and is a thing where all kinds of schools, large and small, congregate someplace (MTSU, this year) to listen to talks and potentially win writing awards. I feel like writing awards are mostly dumb and arbitrary, unless we win, which we did this year (Best Magazine of the South, Best Feature Writer [Liz Caldwell], and others).
The Car: Black FIAT 500L, six-speed manual.
The Aux Man: Austin Maddox, King of Aux Men. You may ask, “Kluck, how do I become a kingly Aux Man?” A world-class Aux Man has his/her own musical desires and aesthetics, yet is willing to subjugate his/her own will to that of the car. A great Aux Man knows the kinds of songs the car will like, whether they make the car sing along or just listen in delight. A great Aux Man must be a multi-tasker.
Note to others in the car: Don’t take advantage of, overwhelm, or exasperate your Aux Man. He’s there to serve, but he’s also there to enjoy.
Disclaimer, because academia: I obviously know that an Aux Man can also be a woman. It’s just that “Aux Person” or “Person of the Aux” doesn’t exactly roll off the old tongue. I celebrate the lives and experiences and personhood of all Aux People.
The Songs (Representative, Not Exhaustive)
So Fresh, So Clean; Outkast. I had forgotten how wildly creative Outkast was, as chief guardian of a very specific Atlanta hip-hop sound. You can hear his southern-ness in the vocals, which is important. We decided that this is the track that is going through Brent Walker’s head whenever he’s getting ready for Cardinal Ball and also every day before school. The song is, essentially, about how there’s nobody as dope as me because of how fresh and clean I dress.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: For me this meant kind of hunching down and just shaking my shoulders from side-to-side, while singing. It also involves watching Seth Horton singing in the rearview mirror. Nobody sings car hip-hop like Seth Horton.
Key lyric: I love who you are, love who you ain’t; you’re so Anne Frank (All-time best use of Anne Frank’s name in a hip-hop lyric).
Enter Sandman; Metallica. Maddox got us started with this one because the night before he told a story about how his mom bought him a Metallica-themed Guitar Hero game at one point during his childhood. This song is, I guess, about being sinister and scary although I couldn’t say definitively in spite of the probably 500 listens I’ve given it in my lifetime.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: None. Instead of dancing I told a story about how this was our pregame song, junior year of high school football, and about how this may be the greatest pregame song of all time.
Key Lyric: None. Rather, James Hetfield’s sinister laughs. Nobody sinister-laughs like Hetfield.
Weak, SWV. SWV stands for Sisters With Voices, which for some reason really tickles me, as group names go. SWV is girl-based R&B from the VERY early 90s and, to my knowledge, this was their only hit. As the oldest member of our car I felt a certain responsibility to guide these young men through the uneven waters of 90s music. And full-disclosure, karaoke-wise, “Weak” is a track that people have said that they enjoy hearing me sing – as much for the theater of a talentless middle aged white man singing a song originally sung by talented young black women. This is a song about how there is a guy who is so amazing that he makes a girl’s knees weak, just by being in her presence. Needless to say, it would be nice to be this guy.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: Interpretive.
Key Lyric: In a daze and it’s so amazing, it’s not a phase.
I Like It, Cardi B. “What planet did Cardi B come from?” I asked the group, during this track. I meant it as the ultimate compliment. “I think The Bronx,” Seth replied. I can’t overstate how much I love this particular song. It’s perfect for a car ride or a workout. This song is, simply, about how Cardi B likes things. Honestly, I wish everyone in my life was this direct about how they like things…it would clear up a lot of ambiguity.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: Holding up one hand and then dropping it dramatically when the bass kicks in, as it does so thunderously and satisfyingly on this song. Also an up and down motion with the shoulders.
Key Lyric: The Spanish stuff.
Dr. Feelgood, Motley Crue. I probably listened to this song 150 times in high school – primarily before football practices or games. At that time I never cared or listened closely enough to realize that this song was undeniably and completely about cocaine. I just loved the driving bass riff, which made me want to run through a brick wall.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: Air-guitar on the thigh.
Key Lyric: I’m not what you’d call a glamorous man.
Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana. I can tell you exactly where I was the first time I heard this song. I was on an 8th grade youth group trip with my buddy Russell, and we each shared half of his Sony Walkman, and listened to this track probably 25 times on that single van ride. Russell is now a celebrated newspaper photographer in Pittsburgh.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: Turning down the volume a little to bloviate like the college professor you are about Dave Grohl’s career arc, how Kurt Cobain shot the music video in his actual old high school, and how that old janitor was the actual old janitor from his high school. Turn volume back up and headbang. Turn volume back down to bloviate some more about how this was a paradigm-shifting song that started a movement. Headbang some more. Thank Seth Horton for suggesting the song.
Key Lyric: She’s over-bored and self-assured.
Welcome to the Black Parade, My Chemical Romance. If the music industry gave an award for earnestness, it would go to My Chemical Romance. These are some really serious guys, what with their guyliner and military jackets and serious facial expressions. I love this song with zero percent irony. I love every aspect of it…the slow parts, the crescendos, the changes, the overwrought piano. All of it. As far as I can tell it’s about a kid who goes into the city with his father to see a marching band, and then a bunch of super serious and life-changing stuff happens. I think I love this because I sometimes lack earnestness myself, and admire it when I see it.
Dance style when you’re dedicated to keeping your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel: This whole song is a grand gesture, so your dance style should reflect that.
Key Lyric: Other times I feel like I should go.
I should go. Thanks for reading. And thanks to my students for grand gestures, great trips, and award-winning writing. I don’t deserve you.
