I’m one of those scum sucking chumps that subscribe to a streaming music service. Deemed scum sucker by some musicians because they have to get a zillion streams before they get a dollar. Labelled chump by cheap asses who only use soundcloud, bandcamp, or youtube. Personally, I love it! I thought I wouldn’t. Didn’t think it was fair to the musicians, but other options are worse. I don’t go to live shows much anymore either. I just figured artists should get some money – hopefully – for entertaining me.
Since subscribing, I’ve discovered tons of new bands and musicians. I’ve listened to stuff that I typically wouldn’t listen to. I’ve also tracked down the old stuff that defined my childhood. In this case, the pre-pre-teen years.
I was writing a post about being sunburned, and was looking for something different to listen to. Metal and jazz just didn’t seem appealing. For reasons barely knownst to me, I opened up Google Music and punched in Color Me Badd. It was one fluid motion. I didn’t have a spare second to comprehend it. A simple click in the search field and immediately, Color Me Badd, was typed and submitted. I chose their debut album.
It was like hitting eighty-eight miles per hour or making a call from a time travelling phone booth*. I was transported back to my childhood home. Back to christmas vacation 1991, I had a Super Nintendo with Super Mario World and Color Me Badd on cassette. From where I sat – on the floor in front of the TV – my fat child life was rad.
A menagerie of images from Super Mario World swam in my visual memory center cortexy lobe thing. The memories kept coming and so did the songs. I’m uncertain whether the album sequentially became less cheesy or if I was growing accustomed to listening to early 90’s poppy R&B.
One could say it’s a concept album, if the concept is the precarious balance of a committed relationship while maintaining a wanton sex life. All the hits were frontloaded and other than “I Wanna Sex You Up,” I’d forgotten them. Later songs, like “Roll The Dice” and the eponymous “Color Me Badd,” still creep up in my brain, sometimes. They weren’t hits, but they were catchy. The last recorded case was within the month. Which may be why I felt compelled to check out the band.
Did it hold up and was I enjoying myself? Yeah sure, why not. I wouldn’t buy it today, but back then, no one could have convinced my watermelon head otherwise. It was the bomb-diggity or whatever the kids were saying between twenty and thirty years ago. Time for their follow-up.
Has anyone else ever listened to the music of their past and had the thought, Donald Trump probably had sex while listening to this? It puts a damper on things. #novisuals
*To be clear, this is a Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, not Dr. Who. Hipster!