I Like Monday 14
Apr. 7th, 2014 06:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhondacrockettThis Monday, I like... Bon Jovi's New Jersey album.
Image taken from EIL.com. Album cover design is copyright of Hugh Syme/Cameron Wong/Olivia Ramirez/Roberta Zislis (they all get credited as having a hand in it one way or another).
Yes, I like Bon Jovi. I like their power-rock bombast, their cowboy obsession, their repeated references to "Tommy" and "Gina", and the generally upbeat tenor of their songs. I like that the core four have been friends for so long and act like goofy best mates. And in my opinion, New Jersey - from their poodle-permed late-eighties phase - is their best album. Out of twelve tracks (on the vanilla UK version, anyway), there are six which are particular favourites and only one which I would routinely skip. That is a pretty decent strike rate.
It's not a critique-free listen. There is unreconstituted eighties caveman in here (I'm looking at you, "Bad Medicine") and there are certain lyrics I just cannot take seriously (how Jon Bon can sing about a "white trash girl" turning him and his mates "into men" without bursting into fits of giggles, I'll never know). But mostly it's just fun. I might roll my eyes at "Bad Medicine" and "Born to be My Baby" but I do it with a grin on my face while belting out the chorus.
There is an infectious joie-de-vivre in these songs. I especially love the long introit to the opening track, "Lay Your Hands on Me", with its tribal drumbeat, snatches of weird electronic noise and slow build of volume; it makes me think of people - a couple of newcomers guided by some old hands - walking down a long, blue-lit tunnel, the walls suddenly flashing with neon patterns or silhouettes of a crowd, and then the old hands reach a door, give a password and they step into a blaze of white light which fades to reveal a huge room full of people dancing, laughing, singing, enjoying themselves. "Blood on Blood" reminds me of galloping horses sweeping over the hills and through the streets. "Stick to Your Guns", of course, calls up the image of the cowboy gunslinger with legs planted firmly apart; for "99 In the Shade", I see another massive party scenario, this time outdoors in a lovely green park full of trees (although the song itself is set at the beach). These songs are guaranteed to lift my spirits and make me feel free from whatever's been dragging me down.
In addition, this album has special significance for me, as it was the soundtrack to my conversations with Lesley, Ruth and LJ, my closest friends from university. Playing it reminds me of so many good times, so much silly and frivolous talk as well as deeper discussions about life, faith and morality. It reminds me of what it feels like to be accepted for all of me - something I didn't really experience from anyone outside of family until then - and to be free to admit to what I liked, what I found interesting or intriguing, without fearing that I would be dismissed as "weird" or not "cool" enough.
New Jersey means friendship to me, the freedom to be myself and to enjoy being myself. It means silliness and laughter and having a good time with people who are having a good time with you. Even the embarrassing lyrics which make you want to facepalm are part of that good time, a cheeky reminder that the coolest of people can end up looking like idiots in time. The best thing to do is to enjoy the ride.
Image taken from EIL.com. Album cover design is copyright of Hugh Syme/Cameron Wong/Olivia Ramirez/Roberta Zislis (they all get credited as having a hand in it one way or another).
Yes, I like Bon Jovi. I like their power-rock bombast, their cowboy obsession, their repeated references to "Tommy" and "Gina", and the generally upbeat tenor of their songs. I like that the core four have been friends for so long and act like goofy best mates. And in my opinion, New Jersey - from their poodle-permed late-eighties phase - is their best album. Out of twelve tracks (on the vanilla UK version, anyway), there are six which are particular favourites and only one which I would routinely skip. That is a pretty decent strike rate.
It's not a critique-free listen. There is unreconstituted eighties caveman in here (I'm looking at you, "Bad Medicine") and there are certain lyrics I just cannot take seriously (how Jon Bon can sing about a "white trash girl" turning him and his mates "into men" without bursting into fits of giggles, I'll never know). But mostly it's just fun. I might roll my eyes at "Bad Medicine" and "Born to be My Baby" but I do it with a grin on my face while belting out the chorus.
There is an infectious joie-de-vivre in these songs. I especially love the long introit to the opening track, "Lay Your Hands on Me", with its tribal drumbeat, snatches of weird electronic noise and slow build of volume; it makes me think of people - a couple of newcomers guided by some old hands - walking down a long, blue-lit tunnel, the walls suddenly flashing with neon patterns or silhouettes of a crowd, and then the old hands reach a door, give a password and they step into a blaze of white light which fades to reveal a huge room full of people dancing, laughing, singing, enjoying themselves. "Blood on Blood" reminds me of galloping horses sweeping over the hills and through the streets. "Stick to Your Guns", of course, calls up the image of the cowboy gunslinger with legs planted firmly apart; for "99 In the Shade", I see another massive party scenario, this time outdoors in a lovely green park full of trees (although the song itself is set at the beach). These songs are guaranteed to lift my spirits and make me feel free from whatever's been dragging me down.
In addition, this album has special significance for me, as it was the soundtrack to my conversations with Lesley, Ruth and LJ, my closest friends from university. Playing it reminds me of so many good times, so much silly and frivolous talk as well as deeper discussions about life, faith and morality. It reminds me of what it feels like to be accepted for all of me - something I didn't really experience from anyone outside of family until then - and to be free to admit to what I liked, what I found interesting or intriguing, without fearing that I would be dismissed as "weird" or not "cool" enough.
New Jersey means friendship to me, the freedom to be myself and to enjoy being myself. It means silliness and laughter and having a good time with people who are having a good time with you. Even the embarrassing lyrics which make you want to facepalm are part of that good time, a cheeky reminder that the coolest of people can end up looking like idiots in time. The best thing to do is to enjoy the ride.
