HOW DOES MUSIC FEEL TODAY?

#2 Roger Miller

Today, February 28th, is my beloved grandma Mary Ann’s birthday. She’s been gone a long time but it doesn’t feel like it. She was my closest relative, which is funny because she abhorred swearing… that we could be blood relatives is almost hilarious. 

She was a HUGE music lover and even sang in a harmony singing country group with her brother. She did not let on to that fact until I had put out THREE fucking records! How do you not tell your closest relative you sang IN FRONT of people outside of church, in a band?! She was a sneaky one! I never would have suspected. She always sang along to the radio in in the car in the proper “barely louder than under your breath” lady volume which is the ultimate cover (and another reason we shouldnt be blood relations?) Her voice was sweet though, I loved it. It sounded just like the last three Certs candies from the bottom of a purse tasted; like the last candy on Earth.(NOT the bullshit fruit ones though!) And the minty little Certs (with Retsyn!) tasted THAT much better accompanying none other than Roger Miller.

When he came growling out of AM radio in grandma’s electric blue Vega (who’s radio buttons looked like fat candy!) we both got excited. The song I’ve chosen here, “In the Summertime (You Don’t Want My Love)” is psychotic. He rasps, and scats (which should not be good, but IS!), hits gorgeous falsetto notes, and breaks my heart. It’s a strange, hypnotic donkey ride that ends in a fast Nashville fade to lunacy. When it came on the oldies country radio station I’d become so emotional I would cry out of the right side of my face so grandma wouldn’t see me. She wouldn’t have minded or made fun of me, I just got good at it riding in my dad’s truck crying to the Eagles’ “Desperado.” I will fully understand if YOU make fun of me for that…

The fact is, “You Don’t Want My Love” is a gutting heartbreaker (unlike “Desperado.) The slippery, masterful sadness is smoked onto it and there’s nothing you can do but give in. He sings it as though he’s trying to get the benefit of a good lozenge at the same time, which somehow makes it even sadder! That is the mathematics of what makes Miller transcendent. I am usually irritated by affectations or comedy-rock but this is somehow neither, he’s so authentically himself it hurts that much more.

I love you grandma, so so much. Thank you for making me love country music, especially Roger Miller. xo

AND THE MUPPETS! AGAIN!