A year ago, my favorite group, The B-52’s, released a new album – their first in almost 16 years. It was eventful because it dropped on my BDay, March 25th. Definitely the perfect present to buy myself.
In the last year, I’ve practically worn out my iPod listening to that album. I’ve played it relentlessly in class. I’ve downloaded every remix that was unleashed on iTunes. It’s an amazing blend of quirk and dance. Or to quote guitarist Keith Strickland, “It’s rock-n-roll pumped up to hot pink!”
People always ask me why I’m obsessed with The B’s. It’s simple, really. When I was an awkward, geeky teenager going through awkward, geeky teen angst, I found a band I could relate to. They were kitschy and fun. And I was mesmerized by their bizarre, but gorgeous, harmonies.
I stumbled across their video for “Legal Tender” on MTV one day and was immediately hooked. I demanded my father stop what he was doing and drive me to Record Town so I could buy the cassette. I still have that cassette … it’s battered and threadbare from being played in my car countless times over countless years.
My favorite song by The B’s has always been “Girl From Ipanema Goes To Greenland”. It was a minor hit for them in 1986 after its release. The weird part is that there’s no two part Kate/Cindy harmony on that song. You just hear Cindy whoop it up like a soul sister. The refrain is so catchy, the chorus so odd – I could not get it out of my head. Still can’t. (I’m humming it right now.)
When I met The B’s back in 2001 … days before 9/11 … it was as if time had stopped. It was the single best day of my entire life. I fawned over them like only a true fan could – and got a little emotional in the process. The B-52’s brought me endless joy in my youth. They always seem so spunky and happy-go-lucky … which is what I needed as a melancholy 15-year old in Des Moines, Iowa.
They’re coming again in concert on May 20th. Can’t wait. This will be my fifth time seeing them in concert. I’m in the 2nd row. You won’t be able to miss me … I’ll be the one dancing uncontrollably (but still with rhythm) for two+ hours.
Tin Roof Rusted … indeed!