Word: jukebox
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...what really pulled me there on Friday and Saturday nights when my friends had dates was the music. In every joint there is a Wurlitzer filled with country music, and maybe a little K.C. & the Sunshine Band thrown incongruously in for dancing and revisionism. The best songs in the jukebox were progressive country: Jerry Jeff Walker, Waylon Jennings (and the Waylors), Willie Nelson, Jessi Colter, Emmy Lou Harris, along with Jimmy Buffet in a more folk-pop direction and Merle Haggard in a more mainstream country tradition. With his Friends album, Hank Williams, Jr. joins this group...
...overall tone of the album is near despair, and its saddest song is "Stoned at the Jukebox." When Williams sings of "loving that hurtin' music, 'cause I been hurting too," it seems to come from the heart-wrenching realization that Hank Williams, Jr. can never be entirely accepted for his own music, no matter how good that music...
...French thus are supposed to devise substitutes for the ubiquitous anglicisms that comprise a good part of their everyday vocabulary: such non-bons mots as bestseller, sexy, blue jeans, bowling, gadget, checkup, checkout, jumbo jet, baby sitter, nonstop, dead heat (pronounced did it), hot dog, hijack, racket, zoom, jukebox, call girl, marketing, merchandising and leasing. Evidemment, the government will need un computer -preferred usage: ordinateur-to track down the offending business man, a designation that is not precisely conveyed by its closest French equivalent, l'homme d'affaires, and even less by la femme d'affaires...
...best cut on the record is James Taylor's "Hey Mister, That's Me Up on the Jukebox," a performance that makes the original look pallid by comparison. She delivers a polished rendition that gives full play to her great range, belting the song out one minute, falling back to a croon the next. A disillusioned account of the life of a music star, the song seethes with bitter irony...
...blue as a girl can be Blue as the deep blue sea, won't you listen to me I need your golden-gated cities like a hole in the head, Just like a hole in my head. I'm free. Hey mister, that's me up on the jukebox I'm the one who's singing this sad song And I cry every time that you slip in one more dime And play me singing the sad one one more time...