The World’s Most Ridiculous Vocal Duets

We all have our prejudices. Here’s mine: I cannot tolerate vocal duets.

It’s hard to explain. Even if the musical arrangement is perfect, and the first vocalist is spot-on, a second vocalist is too much for me. I can’t process the sudden distraction of a singer appearing out of nowhere, grabbing the mic, and interrupting a good thing. It’s too Kanye-West-Imma-Let-You-Finish for my taste, and I seriously cannot take it.

Plus, more often than not, a duet is attached to some sort of melodramatic love story. Trust me, I’m a sucker for a good love song. But two people singing about love to each other? Preposterous. Get a room, already.

Do me a favor. Don’t admit that your favorite song is “Islands in the Stream,” by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, or I will judge you for that, and I won’t judge kindly.

~*~

Here’s why I’m wasting your time with this issue: While baking Christmas cookies on Saturday night, this track popped up on Pandora’s Christmas channel…

David Bowie/ Bing Crosby – Little Drummer Boy

For the record: I dig Bowie—including the Ziggy Stardust years—so I swallowed my loathing for vocal duets and listened intently. Truly, I gave it the old college try.

As my colleague Jim said, “You can even see how uncomfortable it is on the video.”

He’s right. And so I got angry.

“This will not stand,” I thought. “I must do my part. I must forge a campaign to make sure this kind of travesty never, ever happens again.”

That’s why I’m here. I’m here for the cause.

~*~

There’s not much I need to say to state my case. I’ll let Exhibits A-C speak for themselves.

Magnet featuring Gemma Hayes – Lay Lady Lay

GB has a great recording of the Bob Dylan original. It’s saved on his Sirius satellite radio, and I think I love it because of how the DJ introduces it: “And now: The sound of Bob Dylan trying to get laid.”

Ha!

But this version? I can’t…I don’t… (Sigh.) I’m just speechless.

I like Magnet’s contribution to the project. But what’s this Gemma Hayes business? What a quick way to ruin a really great rendition.

Bob. How could they do this to you.

Jesse Malin/Bruce Springsteen – Broken Radio

Funny thing about GB—he knows my hatred for vocal duets, and so he has started to collect them.

The first time he played this track for me, he grinned the whole way through my horrified, confounded reaction.

When Jesse Malin kicks off the first verse, you think, “Meh. Let’s change the station.”

But then? Out of nowhere? The Boss! And he’s perfect. He sings, and you don’t want him to stop. But more importantly, you pray to all things holy that Jesse won’t grab the mic again.

When he does, you’re left with no choice but to question right from wrong, up from down, and the whole sorry state of the universe.

Wyclef Jean/Maxi Pries – Wild World

This is my very favorite example of musical collaboration gone wrong. Again, it’s part of the GB collection.

“You’ve got to hear this,” he said when he first found the track. “I like Wyclef, but what is he trying to do here?”

It begins with Wyclef setting the scene. I’m thankful for that, or I would never have figured it out for myself:

[Wyclef]: Wyclef is sitting here playing the guitar/Rhyming with Maxi Pries/Maxi Pries you need to tell her a-geh-hen.”

[Maxi]: Don’t go…

[Wyclef]: Tell her, Maxi…

[Maxi]: Don’t go…

[Wyclef]: Tell her …

Oh, friends. It gets worse. So much worse.

[Maxi]: Oooo, baby, baby it’s a wild world…

[Wyclef]: Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho

[Maxi]: It’s hard to get by just upon a smile girl

[Wyclef]: Yeah!

Honestly, it’s absurd.

I want to call Wyclef. Text him. Tap him on the back and say ruefully, “Wyclef. What exactly is your goal? Just what do you want to accomplish with this?”

I tell you, it’s more tragic than the Rob Thomas/Carlos Santana catastrophe of 1999.

~*~

Granted, I will make concessions. Take this track, for example.

Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty – Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around

As much as I want to protest this song in theory, I can’t because it’s fantastic.

But the rest? I’ll insist that a boycott is in order. If you doubt me at all, allow me to remind you of this:

Frank Sinatra & Bono – I’ve Got You Under My Skin

Bono. You know I love you. But it should not be like this. No, never like this.

~*~ Find me on Twitter @36×37
~*~ Visit the 36×37 facebook page

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(100th Post) Naan-sense, and Celebrity Sightings!

Vindaloo.

I like the word. Vindaloo.

I had big plans for today’s post. I knew it would be my 100^th, so I really wanted to play it up. Do something special. Tell you about how my colleagues joined me for my very first Indian lunch, and how the Chicken Paradise was so spicy and so delicious it almost brought tears to my eyes, and how the server made sure I knew that the hellfire in my mouth was only a “mild spice.” And how I have a special place in my heart now for naan.

Naan. I like that word, too.

That was my plan. I was going to spin that into an 800 word story, much like my first Sushi experience. Lucky for you, Jen said she was planning to spend a day in New York before flying out to Cabo, and Jack suggested going to Soho to watch for celebrities.

Next thing I knew: Scoop on Celebrity Sightings!

~*~

“New York is crawling with them, and you’d never know it. They fit right in there, because real New Yorkers don’t care. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve seen just sitting outside at a sidewalk café.”

He begins by saying he once spotted Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro—one of them in a Broadway play. (I’ve admired and confused those two esteemed actors all of my life, so I’m equal parts “Wow!” and “Which one was Scarface?”)

(google image from tumblr.com)

This is when the conversation gets interesting.

“I saw Bruce Springsteen at a shop once. I’d just seen his show in Cleveland the week before, so I wanted to tell him how much I’d enjoyed it. Bruce was just standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling, while his wife and kids checked out a display of sunglasses. I said, ‘Hey man, I loved your show last week.’ He said thanks and introduced me to his family. Can you believe it? He wasn’t a musician at that moment. He was just a nice guy—a husband and a dad waiting around at the mall.”

(google image from http://www.thelatestnews.in)

(That’s exactly what you want to hear about Bruce, isn’t it? Jack’s story makes me think of a recent quote from my boy Jon Stewart: “Have you hugged Bruce Springsteen? I have. And it was nice.”)

“One time, on the street, I saw this women. She looked really familiar. I kept watching her, thinking, ‘Do I know her from somewhere? Why do I feel like I’ve seen her before?’ Then she smiled at me. Julia Roberts! We just stood there, smiling at each other.” He jokes, “It’s like we had a ‘moment.’”

(google image from genxnews.com)

~*~

A few days later, I’m at Starbucks with Angela and Shannon. Angela joined the editorial team a few weeks ago, and she has flown in from Seattle so I can train her in person. She’d picked the Indian restaurant the other day, so she’d heard all of Jack’s stories. I think she kept quiet then because she knew she could trump him.

Now we’re talking about Seattle, and the late 80s-mid-90s Grunge Rock scene. Angela says she worked at the Sorrento Hotel when Grunge was at its height, and since she worked in Sales and Reception, she encountered a lot of celebrities.

“I helped Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love check out once. They used everything in their room but the towels. They pulled the mattresses off the beds and threw those Styrofoam packing peanuts all over the floor. And they had a huge doll collection lined up around the room.”

(google image from music.ninemsn.com.au)

“Oh wow…did you see it?” I ask. I’d always heard that Kurt wrote “Doll Parts” for Courtney’s band, Hole, and now I know why.

“No, we heard it from the cleaning staff. They always let us know what was happening upstairs.”

We laugh.

“I also helped Duran Duran check out once. They were past their prime by then. It was kind of sad to see them standing around all tired in their crushed velvet jackets.”

(google image from kevchino.com)

“Do you remember Alice and Chains? I checked in Layne Staley once. All the bell hops were like, “OH MY GOD, THAT’S LAYNE STALEY!!!” I think Layne thought I was cool because I wasn’t freaking out on him. But really, I just didn’t know who he was. I was surprised, though. He was such a little guy with that great big voice.”

(google image from heavenrocks.co.uk)

“And remember Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island? A bell boy got high with her in the back.”

(google image from blogs.dixcdn.com)

~*~

I love stories like this. And I’m not even the sort of person who reads celebrity gossip magazines. It’s just that I like flash reminders from the universe that we’re all just people skulking across the same soil at the same time. Basically we want the same things: To breathe in the air, and to survive; to form connections and blood lines and friendships and spiritual understandings; to find knowledge and comfort in the lessons others learned before us; and to communicate what we’ve learned—to pass it along, like ancient storytellers, from generation to generation.

Celebrities do all of these things in the public eye. They surge and stumble, and they face our reactions to that. Some handle it, some don’t, but if they can, they stick with the limelight. I think that’s mostly because they use their art as a means to be understood. That’s another thing we all want: Understanding.

And when you think about it, isn’t that what a blog is? A chance to stake claim on your own soil, and to be understood in spite of yourself? Or in my case, to help me find out at age 36 who the hell I’m supposed to become?

Happy 100^th Post birthday to you, little blog. We have roughly 100 more of these posts to go. And if we walk away from this on April 17 meaning something to only each other, that will be alright with me. And that will be enough.

~*~ Find me on Twitter @36×37
~*~ Visit the 36×37 facebook page

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