SO F.U.

For the first 40 years I had a driver’s license, I almost always played music in the car, the louder the better. But these days, while I usually relish the absence of sonic assault while driving, I occasionally fire up Sirius satellite radio to stave off boredom and sleepiness.

Musically speaking, my choices are all over the map. My spouse is a classical pianist so we listen primarily to classical, but sometimes I seek out other types of music in a feeble attempt to disprove that I am becoming a stodgy old coot.

On a recent trip, I turned on Sirius XM1 satellite radio, which features the most popular 20 Pop songs as chosen by their listeners. Driving along, somewhere between Monteagle and Chattanooga, one song made me respond as if I was a judge  on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand Rate-A-Record segment. “It’s catchy, it’s got a good beat, and I probably could [or could have, at one time] dance to it.”

Then, seconds later, I was jolted back into 2010 as the chorus of the song was semi-yelled out, “Blah, blah, blah, blah, so F.U,” followed in short order by “And F. her, too!”  Here’s the song narrative: the singer is upset with an ex-girlfriend and her new man. He is telling the new guy just what he thinks of both of them. To his credit, the “artist” singing this song, Cee Lo Green—or, as those more conversant in “popular” culture than I refer to him—“Cee Lo,” did not pronounce the other three missing letters of the first word. Even someone of grandpa-age could easily figure out this code. OMG, another barrier of decency, GONE! What is this world coming to?

I only pondered this for a nano-second because my observation was instantaneously proven erroneous as I experienced a flashback to 1967.        The Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels hit, “Sock It…To Me Baby” played on the poolside juke box as my mother and three other 40-something matrons held a lively discussion on how “awful” it was. About 30 of us seventh graders danced exuberantly, even though we were absolutely clueless what it was Mitch wanted socked to him.

 “Boogaloo, my baby, across the floor. Every time you shake it girl, I like it more. Gimme, gimme, gimme gimme gimme, something sweet. Knock me, ooh, off my feet. Sock it to me baby, baby. Sock it to me baby, baby. Sock it to me, baby. Sock it to me, baby. Sock it to me, baby. Sock it.”

Need more proof that seemingly salacious lyrics are nothing new? Give a listen to  “Jungle Fever “ from 1972, a top 10 disco song by The Chakachas. It features a catchy Latin beat punctuated by a female breathing heavily, moaning and attempting to feebly say,  “Ah…no…no…I..I…” three times during the song. Hint: she was not simulating a workout on Mama’s belt-driven “reducing” machine!

Yep. That was almost 40 years ago. So, Cee Lo, you aren’t the first to sing provocative, racy lyrics.  I wonder if people thought Cole Porter’s songs ““Let’s Do It” (1928) and Love for Sale” (1930) or were scandalous when they were popular? Too bad my grandparents aren’t available to ask.