The weekend has arrived! It is a long one as well, and with very
little on my plate I’m looking forward to relaxing with my lovely wife, playing
some board games and getting some writing done on my new book. You know, important stuff.
Disc 456 is… 99.9 F
Artist: Suzanne
Vega
Year of Release: 1992
What’s up with the Cover? A close up of Suzanne Vega looking like some sort of
primal fire goddess. Of course she just
had to include a band aid on one finger to remind all of us that she’s really just
a vulnerable girl. Also, is it just me, or does she not look like she's smoking an invisible cigarette?
How I Came To Know It: I knew about Vega from the song “Luka” that received so much overplay on
the radio, but that song is from a couple records earlier. “99.9 F” came to my attention through my old
roommate Greg. I don’t know where he heard about it, but it was another one of
those albums that got a lot of play in our apartment since we both enjoyed it.
How It Stacks Up: I only have this one Suzanne Vega album, so it
doesn’t really stack up. Sheila used to
have the “Luka” album (1987’s “Solitude
Standing”) on tape, but I’ve only heard it a couple of times.
Rating: 3 stars
Folk
melded with early nineties electronica.
If that idea intrigues you, then Suzanne Vega’s “99.9 F” could be for
you. It is certainly for me.
I
generally don’t like electronica or ‘techno’ as the kids were calling it ten
years ago (I have no idea what kids are calling it now). I find it repetitive to the point of dull and
lacking any emotional content that is a big part of my music listening
experience. However, there was a brief
window in the early to mid-nineties where electronica and industrial music was
still simple and honest enough that it interested me.
I’ve
liked folk music for a very long time, and Vega does a great job of urbanizing the
genre and making it sound current, up tempo and – dare I say it? – even danceable. In fact on my walks to work it took a lot of
effort to not do a little back-forward heel-toe action while waiting at lights. I resisted the urge and frankly, I’m a little
disappointed in myself. When the world
affords you a chance to dance, you should dance.
Back to
the record, which is great and refreshingly unlike anything else I was hearing
in 1992. After her more straightforward
earlier albums, this was a brave new direction for Vega and it really pays
off. The beats are crisp and filled with
energy, and reminded me a little bit of the smooth flows of contemporary rap acts like EPMD, but cleaned up
for the non hip-hop audience.
One of
the songs, “Fat Man & Dancing Girl”
had a particularly catchy bass beat that sounded familiar, and not just because
I’ve listened to this album a hundred times.
Earlier in the week a coworker had sent me the video for Fat Boy Slim’s 2001
song “Weapon of Choice” (you will
remember it for Christopher Walken’s funky dance moves). Sure enough when I called it up alongside “Fat Man & Dancing Girl” it was the
self-same bass line, with one note cut off the end. Could there be a Fat Boy/Fat Man connection
here?
I needed
to do a fat/fact check, but the wiki page for “Weapon of Choice” says the sample is from a 1967 Chamber Brothers song
called “All Strung Out Over You” and
sure enough, both it and the Suzanne Vega song sound like the Chamber Brothers
song. This is fine – imitation being the
highest form of flattery, whether conscious or not. In any event, here are the three songs – the first
two are definitely related – you be the judge whether the third fits as well:
Whatever
the case, "All Strung Out Over You" has me wanting to get me some Chamber Brothers. That is some groovy stuff. But I digress…
Back to “99.9
F,” which is a good album that is tastefully limited to 12 songs and, at just 37
minutes, is short enough to leave you wanting more. The songs range from upbeat techno-folk, to
more somber songs that use fairly electronic sounding production but are much
more clearly folk music.
Lyrically,
I found most of the songs established a general mood more than leaving me with
a strong sense of a story being told (decidedly un-folk, that). I did enjoy Vega’s recollection of how your
dolls seem to have some kind of life to them when you’re young on “As a Child” and how later on we grow up
and feel like sometimes we are dolls in our own lives, in our effort to fulfill
the roles we think are expected of us.
Her most
touching song is “Bad Wisdom” a sad song
about unwanted teen pregnancy and the stigma attached to it that had me
thinking of fellow depressed diva Liz Phair. The song opens:
“Mother the doctor knows
something is wrong
Cause my body has strange
information
He’s looked in my eyes and knows
I’m not a child
But he doesn’t dare ask the right
question.
“Mother my friends are no longer
my friends
And the games we once played have
no meaning.
I’ve gone serious and shy and
they can’t figure why
So they’ve
left me to my own daydreaming.”
The girl
ends up shunned by her family as well, selling her body on the street, and the
whole thing resonates in a minor key that makes you feel (rightly)
uncomfortable about what happens to some people whose only crime is to be young,
foolish and a little unlucky.
Overall
the album is a pleasant listen, and I like the way Vega has melded two very
seemingly different styles, and showcased how well they work together. It doesn’t blow me away, but I’m never
disappointed when I put it on, even after all these years. It makes me want to buy more of her work, in
fact.
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