❌Monthly Song Challenge: Archived🎵

Day 5: A song for a road trip
(+1 for female artist, total of 8)

Road trips aren't really a thing in Sweden, mainly because it's tiny. The entire country is about the size of California, and 60% of it is basically... nothing. So, getting anywhere doesn't take long at all. I think the longest I've been in a car was 2, maybe 3 hours at most.

Those shorter trips were frequent in my youth, though. An hour here. An hour there. And every time we drove, my stepdad would introduce me to a new band from his time. It sounded so mythological to me. His time was a time other my time.

He was Swedish, born and bred, and had lived through music I could never have dreamed of. We burned through his tape collection. When we ran out, we bought a boombox capable of playing CDs and had it screaming at us from the backseat.

Rock, punk, pop, funk, jazz. I'd whine at him, jazz is junk, but he insisted that it was an era I had to know, to understand what came after. I was annoyed. It sounded like five musicians each playing their own song, simultaneously. I never did come around to Jazz. Sorry, dad.

But punk. PUNK! My word. It was unlike anything else. It lit a fire in me! Ramones, Misfits, Stooges, Pistols, Clash, Dolls... Too many to count. Then came the newer bands. Distillers, Sleater-Kinney, The Licks. We'd scream our lungs out in his old Volvo, trying and failing to match the energy of these incredible, strong-willed musicians.

Short songs for short road trips.

The Distillers - Drain The Blood

Distillers was has been on my list all month. Just ain’t found the day yet. Excellent.
 
Day 5: A song for a road trip

"The Emyvale / Ríl Gan Ainm / The Three Merry Sisters of Fate," Altan. (+2)

I am a West Coast kid. I grew up out here, an hour from the coast, an hour from the mountains, forty-five minutes from The Columbia River Gorge, and high desert. So I did a lot of road trips, all over. But mostly I went to the beach.

The Oregon coast is almost indescribably gorgeous. Well, not indescribable, but words do fail to convey how beautiful, and rugged it is. I did some time out on the East coast, and I love you all, but you don't know. Had to move back west to get to the Pacific, and I'm not joking. And the thing with the Oregon coast, we had a Governor named Tom McCall, back when a Republican could work with a Democrat. He looked at Washington, and especially California, who had privately owned beaches and said, "fuck that sideways." Then he declared all 350 something miles of Oregon's coast as part of the State Highway system, and therefore owned by the public. And he fought for it, and won. No private beaches there.

So when I think "road trip," I automatically think 'beach trip." Weekends, day trips, one year we spent a whole month at my mom's boss's beach cabin, burning all her vacation in one swoop. I love the coast, cannot live without the coast.

And getting there is half the fun.

I love a lot of different music, and so had a bunch of stuff to choose from. I love Irish music, and I had a bunch of Altan on cassette, because I am so very old. I almost chose one of the Gaelic songs since it is a beautiful language, but this song made me buy a bodhrán, so I could play along.

Oh, and the lead singer/fiddler and another fiddler are women, and I have a special place in my heart for bonus points.


(+9)
 
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Day 5: A song for a road trip
(+1 for female artist, total of 8)

Road trips aren't really a thing in Sweden, mainly because it's tiny. The entire country is about the size of California, and 60% of it is basically... nothing. So, getting anywhere doesn't take long at all. I think the longest I've been in a car was 2, maybe 3 hours at most.

Those shorter trips were frequent in my youth, though. An hour here. An hour there. And every time we drove, my stepdad would introduce me to a new band from his time. It sounded so mythological to me. His time was a time other my time.

He was Swedish, born and bred, and had lived through music I could never have dreamed of. We burned through his tape collection. When we ran out, we bought a boombox capable of playing CDs and had it screaming at us from the backseat.

Rock, punk, pop, funk, jazz. I'd whine at him, jazz is junk, but he insisted that it was an era I had to know, to understand what came after. I was annoyed. It sounded like five musicians each playing their own song, simultaneously. I never did come around to Jazz. Sorry, dad.

But punk. PUNK! My word. It was unlike anything else. It lit a fire in me! Ramones, Misfits, Stooges, Pistols, Clash, Dolls... Too many to count. Then came the newer bands. Distillers, Sleater-Kinney, The Licks. We'd scream our lungs out in his old Volvo, trying and failing to match the energy of these incredible, strong-willed musicians.

Short songs for short road trips.

The Distillers - Drain The Blood

The Distillers were my best friend's ex-wife's favorite band. She idolized Brody, and had I known the stories about her then, I'd have told my buddy to get the fuck out of there.

I have the same reaction to Brody that a lot of people have to Glen Danzig. Can't stand her, or her band.
 
the stories about her
I have the same reaction to Brody that a lot of people have to Glen Danzig. Can't stand her, or her band.
I don't know what those stories are, don't much care for celebrity gossip. Distillers made amazing music, and that music has forged some amazing memories, that's all that matters to me. Same with Danzig's time in Misfits. Or Johnny and the Ramones. Or Clapton and... himself. Steven Tyler. Jimmy Page. Dylan.

Shit, you want to have any rock music left? Better separate the art from the artists.
 
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