Always Watching

 Sting has been known to comment on couples who choose to use his tune "Every Breath You Take" as their wedding song, "Well, good luck." Since it's about stalking and all. "I'll be watching you..." And not in a nice adoring way: "Oh, can't you see you belong to me? How my poor heart aches with every step you take." And so on. A lot like how politicians back in 1984 blared Bruce Springsteen's "Born In The USA" at their rallies, imagining that it was some sort of patriotic anthem. Again, not in a nice adoring way. 

Speaking of The Boss. I have mentioned in this spot before about his confused and oppressive romantic intent in songs like "Fire." The Bruce apologist in me wants to suggest that he's playing a character, singing lines like "You say you don't like it, But girl I know you're a liar." A little like Danny in Grease, calling "Aw c'mon, Sandy! You can't walk out of a drive in!" Or maybe the way the cute Beatle got away with singing "She was just seventeen, and you know what I mean..." Maybe you could clarify, Sir Paul? Are you suggesting that because this young lady, under the age of consent by your own admission, made some sort of overt gesture to you by making eye contact? 

Those were simpler times, apparently. Or more dangerous. Which led me to the song "Cherish" by The Association. Not the Madonna song. Not the Kool and the Gang song. The one with lyrics like "You don't know how many times I've wished that I could hold you" followed abruptly by the rhyming couplet,  "You don't know how many times I've wished that I could mold you," The next track up would be the Hollies singing about how they met this girl at a bus stop. How this guy suggests he share his umbrella with this woman who, we are assured, by August will be "mine." 

Kind of puts you in mind of that student of Mister Sting who had the temerity to stand too close to him. 

So what I am suggesting here is that pop music may not be helping us on the road to enlightenment, at least when it comes to relationships. Unless those relationships are less boy-girl or man-woman and more captor-hostage. Which brings me around to a bit I used to do in conjunction to Sinead O'Connor's cover of "Someday My Prince Will Come." I maintain that this is a recording of Snow White singing while bound and only recently ungagged as she imagines what rescue might await her. So while you remain captive in this tower, you can sing a song about how a man will come and rescue you. From the dwarves who are using you, along with rodents from the forest, as a scullery maid. 

Which makes me glad to recall that for our first dance my wife and I pranced about to "Happy Happy, Joy Joy." That bears some watching.