Guest Blogger Richard Torres: A Valentine's Day Soundtrack

 

       Someone once said that “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” If that’s true Richard Torres could do a samba about the Guggenheim that would make “Dancing with the Stars” look like aqua-robics at the rest  home. Music is tough to capture in words but Rich does it with such finesse that I asked him to offer some recommendations for your Valentines Day and lucky us, he agreed.

       Richard has written about the arts for The Village Voice, New York Times, The New Yorker and Newsday and is the author of the urban detective novel Freddie's Dead.  His blog Rich Thoughts  has more musical musings (including the one below) but for now – for you - his Valentine’s Soundtrack.

FEBRUARY 4, 2010 A Valentine's Day Soundtrack

     My friend Liz Langley – a terrific writer - posed an intriguing question to me the other night: if I had to pick three albums – a “sexy,” “romantic” and “goofy” one – for a Valentine’s Day soundtrack, which would I select? Well, here they are and the reasons why.

      Sexy: Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye. As my choices show, I’ve been in an old-school mood lately. (For the musically-challenged, old-school refers to the pre ‘90’s period of the 20th century when both radio and melody mattered.) Now, I could’ve selected discs by Maxwell, Robin Thicke, Usher, R. Kelly, even Prince but why bother when I can go to the source. See, in the ’70’s with albums like What’s Going On, I Want You and Let’s Get It On, Marvin Gaye set the musical template that today’s “sexy” singers fervently follow. Of the aforementioned Marvin trinity, Let’s Get It On states its case with a then-uncommon frankness. Just the song titles tell you exactly what was on the marvelous one’s mind: “Keep Getting’ It On,” “Come Get To This,” “You Sure Love To Ball,” “Just To Keep You Satisfied” and, of course, the sublime “Let’s Get It On.” (Already in possession of his fans’ hearts and minds, Marvin decided this time to aim for their nether regions.) Finally, I gotta say that if you can’t do the deed with the sounds of the ultimate love man at his cooing best then stop, get up, power up the computer and Google ‘nearest monastery” cause that’s where you’re headed. (Pun intended.)

     Romantic: Promise by Sade. There was many a contender for this title. Performers from Luther Vandross to Luis Miguel to the Isley Brothers to Roxy Music to Johnny Mathis to Miles Davis to John Coltrane to Barry White have created multiple works of undeniable sensual satisfaction. (Shoot, with the right combination of candlelight, wine and person, even Barry Manilow, Ol’ Dirty Bastard or the Ramones can work. Trust me on this.) But on this – her second LP – Sade hit a sustained sensual peak few performers have ever matched. Sinuously slinking through tunes like “Is It A Crime,” – still her most emotional song –“The Sweetest Taboo,” “War Of The Hearts” and “Never As Good As The First Time,” the combination of Sade’s smoky vocals and the pseudo-jazz instrumentation anchored by a mournful saxophone creates a sumptuous ambience than transcends the depressing lyrics. It’s a downer of an album but an uplifting experience, if, wink-wink, you know what I mean.

     Goofy: Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summer. This was the toughest choice to make. I mean, you’re talking to a guy who with the right lady can have, ahem, fun to, say, the theme to Ren & Stimpy. (And I’ve got the affidavits to prove it.) So I thought about quirky albums like Stevie Wonder’s great, much misunderstood masterwork The Secret Life Of Plants. (Think of it as the aural equivalent to Isabella Rossellini’s Green Porno series and you’ll get what I mean.) Or stuff from artists as far-flung and disparate as Rammstein, Paul Anka, Method Man, Ennio Morricone, Fleetwood Mac, the Clash, Public Enemy, Cher, Def Leppard, Reba McEntire and the Spice Girls. (I plead guilty – with a big smile – to all of the above.) Well, you understand my dilemma. That’s why I went back to the birth of disco’s sexual frankness. I’m referring, of course, to Donna Summer’s groundbreaking – and, for some, backbreaking – moan-a-thon Love To Love You Baby.

     Now forget the other five tracks on this LP. They don’t matter and 93% of you won’t get to them anyway. See, the trick is to last, to survive the 16 minutes and 51 seconds of the album’s title track. Clocking in at an unofficial 2000 moans and 1769 orgasms – that’s counting every hiccup, sigh and stammer – Love To Love You Baby is an exhilarating showcase for Ms. Summer’s ahem, skills. (After hearing this song again recently, I now believe a reason she later became born-again is that she was just too tuckered out to sin). While it may have set the Olympian standard for orgiastic oratory, I urge each of you reading this to put this track on Valentine evening and - to quote Sly Stallone in the neo-Shakespearean cinema classic Rocky III - “Go for it!” (Records were made to be broken, right?) In the interim, feel free to send in your own picks and remember to have a happy VDay, everybody!