TRANSCRIPT OF A CONVERSATION WITH MYSELF
Well, that Richard X. Heyman song was such a blast. Wonder what's next.
Heh. I've got one.
Oh, no. What is it?
"Since I Fell for You." You know, that Al Jarreau song you used to love so much.
The one from the Moonlighting soundtrack? No way. That's such a depressing song, and this playlist is supposed to be for uplift!
It's not depressing, it's cathartic. You wore out your Moonlighting tape rewinding and playing back that song, remember? And for the record, it's not just on the Moonlighting soundtrack, it's from the acclaimed 1986 Double Vision album by jazz keyboardist Bob James and saxophonist David Sanborn, with Al Jarreau as a guest singer on this track.
Now you're just quoting Wikipedia. And it's still too depressing for this playlist.
Come on. You played it all the time when you were in high school. You would come home all bothered about this girl you had a serious crush on, and you'd hit Play on the cassette deck and sit around moping and let the song ease your sweet adolescent pain.
Well, thank you very much for bringing that up. But that's exactly why it's not going on this list. It's all about having your heart broken!
It's a beautiful song, is what it is. Doesn't your dad love this kind of stuff? He used to make mixtapes of songs like these. He called them malulungkot na boogie. Care to translate for our readers?
He was trying to describe something like "songs that have a beat you can move to, and are all about being miserable." So, basically, songs that have rhythm and also blues. There's an acronym for that, I think.
There you go! The perfect soundtrack for your teenage misery. Poor you, getting all twisted trying to figure out why she glanced at you or why she didn't; whether her "hi" on Tuesday meant something different from when she said it on Monday; too shy to say more than two words to her in private, except for that one time you made --
Oh, hush.
-- you made that papier-mâché --
I said HUSH.
-- that papier-mâché rose for her, which was really sweet. But I don't remember any promising developments after that, and you went back to moping.
Gee, thanks for letting everyone know.
Your wife should know by now anyway, shouldn't she?
She does! We laugh about it! She thinks it's cute! But now you've told everyone else.
I think your mom is reading these posts.
That's right. (Sigh) Hi, Mom.
Look, the point is, it's a great song. You found it pretty transcendent, and I bet you still do. Al Jarreau with his liquid voice and David Sanborn on his pyrotechnic sax, each trying to outwail the other? It's sublime.
Yeah, I suppose it is.
And the way the song starts out slow and subdued and gradually works itself up to a frenzy, and you can feel this exquisite tension building, and then there's a sudden stop and release, with Jarreau stretching out the word "since" to be its own ecstatic sound? The song is practically sex!
Hush now. We've got a respectable readership here. It's about unrequited love.
All love songs are about sex.
That's enough out of you. I'll just go ahead and link to the video now, shall I?
What are you waiting for? I'm surprised it took you this long.
Here you go, wiseass. Enjoy.
I will! And so will you.
You know, I was pretty proud of that papier-mâché rose. It had a wire-hanger frame and everything.
It was a pretty good rose. Wanna listen to the song again?
...Okay.
END TRANSCRIPT
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Listen to the Spotify playlist here.
Watch the YouTube playlist here.