All Suck Radio
During a break between films at the Vancouver International Film Festival today, the wife and I stepped into a small cafe on Davie Street for a bite of lunch.
Air Supply's "All out of Love" was playing on the overhead stereo system. "Let's hope the food is better than the music selection," I joked.
We placed our order at the front and sat down to wait for our food. Just before the food arrived, Air Supply faded out, and it probably took me a full 20 seconds to realize what horror had been unleashed on us next.
That's right.
It was Waylon Jennings' infamous ballad, "Lookin' for Love."
"Oh my God," I said. "I can't remember when I last actually heard the real song. You only ever hear people making fun of this anymore...."
"I didn't even know this was a real song," she answered. "You mean people actually listened to this crap on purpose?" (I didn't tell her the guy who sang it lived only a half hour drive from where I grew up). "This really is some kind of 80s music hell."
"80s Music Hell Radio — all the songs that people ignore when they say retro is cool!"
"You think this is some kind of satellite radio or cable radio? Surely no one would put together a CD compilation like this."
"I don't know. Wanna place bets on what's next? REO Speedwagon? Pointer Sisters?"
And right on cue, the next song started. Wouldn't you know it. "Footloose." (I don't even know who sang that song....)
"Hey it's your favourite, isn't it?" It had become some kind of awful game. "Come on, do your pointy dance!"
"No."
"Come on."
"We're sitting in a cafe. No pointy dancing. Eat your lunch."
With the next song, we finally had some respite. Berlin's "Take My Breath Away."
"At least this one's not so bad. Just tired."
We had finished our lunch. We were each shoving our food remnants around our plates with our forks. It was time to go, to catch our movie in time. But we both just sat there.
"Are you sitting for the same reason I am?"
"To hang around long enough to see if they could possibly play any more songs even worse than what they already have? If that's what you were going to say, then, I'm afraid so. Should we go?"
I looked at her expectantly. Then, "No, we can wait one more minute. This had better be good."
And that's when the song faded into that ever-living anthem of 80s kitsch optimism, "The Heat is On."
"Okay, now . . . we can go."
Amen to that.
Air Supply's "All out of Love" was playing on the overhead stereo system. "Let's hope the food is better than the music selection," I joked.
We placed our order at the front and sat down to wait for our food. Just before the food arrived, Air Supply faded out, and it probably took me a full 20 seconds to realize what horror had been unleashed on us next.
That's right.
It was Waylon Jennings' infamous ballad, "Lookin' for Love."
"Oh my God," I said. "I can't remember when I last actually heard the real song. You only ever hear people making fun of this anymore...."
"I didn't even know this was a real song," she answered. "You mean people actually listened to this crap on purpose?" (I didn't tell her the guy who sang it lived only a half hour drive from where I grew up). "This really is some kind of 80s music hell."
"80s Music Hell Radio — all the songs that people ignore when they say retro is cool!"
"You think this is some kind of satellite radio or cable radio? Surely no one would put together a CD compilation like this."
"I don't know. Wanna place bets on what's next? REO Speedwagon? Pointer Sisters?"
And right on cue, the next song started. Wouldn't you know it. "Footloose." (I don't even know who sang that song....)
"Hey it's your favourite, isn't it?" It had become some kind of awful game. "Come on, do your pointy dance!"
"No."
"Come on."
"We're sitting in a cafe. No pointy dancing. Eat your lunch."
With the next song, we finally had some respite. Berlin's "Take My Breath Away."
"At least this one's not so bad. Just tired."
We had finished our lunch. We were each shoving our food remnants around our plates with our forks. It was time to go, to catch our movie in time. But we both just sat there.
"Are you sitting for the same reason I am?"
"To hang around long enough to see if they could possibly play any more songs even worse than what they already have? If that's what you were going to say, then, I'm afraid so. Should we go?"
I looked at her expectantly. Then, "No, we can wait one more minute. This had better be good."
And that's when the song faded into that ever-living anthem of 80s kitsch optimism, "The Heat is On."
"Okay, now . . . we can go."
Amen to that.