Old Songs That Illustrate Changes in Society

That song was before the FCC, panz. I had to smile behind my hands.

Resisting the urge, Phoenix, to say:

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

I saw an interview with Sting and he said that after a gig in the US a couple told him it was 'their' song - and he thought to himself 'what sort of freaky relationship do you have?'

Panz already got my favourite social anachronism: 'He hit me and it felt like a kiss'

How about the much gentler 'Too Young To Be Married' by the Holllies

She wakes up early every morning
She get up long before the sunshine
Greets the milkman who's still yawning
And reads the paper for a short time
Calls the kids "get out of bed"
They never hear a word she says

Husband stands to leave the table
She says "i hope you have a good day"
He thinks "one day soon as i'm able
I'll get a job where i get good pay."

They find it hard to make ends meet
But they don't mention it because they have each other
An love is free while they're supposed to be ...

Too young to be married
Too young to be free
Too young to be married
But what could they do, they were going to have a baby

After the kids have had their breakfast
Now they're off to get some schooling
She cleans the house and makes the beds
She starts to dreams but knows she's fooling

She swears one day she'll stay in bed
But for now she knows she's got to keep on working
'cos round and round inside her head
She hears the words her mother said ...

Chorus

Too young to be married
Too young to be free
Too young to be married
But what could they do?

How about what hasn't changed?

Eve of Destruction - Barry McGuire

The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'

But you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Don't you understand what I'm tryin' to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feelin' today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save, with the world in a grave
[Take a look around ya boy, it's bound to scare ya boy]

And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Yeah, my blood's so mad feels like coagulatin'
I'm sitting here just contemplatin'
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation.
Handful of senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin'
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin'

And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
You may leave here for 4 days in space
But when you return, it's the same old place
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next-door neighbor, but don't forget to say grace
And… tell me over and over and over and over again, my friend
You don't believe
We're on the eve
Of destruction
Mm, no no, you don't believe
We're on the eve
of destruction.

Ewww! Who remembers this?


Artist: Paul Anka

Title: The Teen Commandments


Now, these are the Teen Commandments:

1. Stop and think before you drink.

2. Don't let your parents down; they brought you up.

3. Be humble enough to obey. You will be giving orders yourself someday.

4. At the first moment, turn away from unclean thinking, at the first
moment.

5. Don't show off driving. If you want to race, go to Indianapolis.

6. Choose a date who would make a good mate.

7. Go to church faithfully. The Creator gives you the week; give Him back an hour.

8. Choose your companions carefully. You are what they are.

9. Avoid following the crowd. Be an engine, not a caboose.

10. Or even better, keep the original Ten Commandments.

I used to love Love for Sale...

and admit to liking Under My Thumb, taking the lyrics as obscene braggadoccio.

Also loved Mac the Knife by Darrin.

You Don't Own Me - Leslie Gore
(mostly, human nature doesn't change.)

You don't own me,
I'm not just one of your many toys
You don't own me,
don't say I can't go with other boys

And don't tell me what to do
And don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display, 'cause

You don't own me,
don't try to change me in any way
You don't own me,
don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay

Oh, I don't tell you what to say
I don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please

(Instrumental interlude)

A-a-a-nd don't tell me what to do
Oh-h-h-h don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display

I don't tell you what to say
Oh-h-h-h don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young
(FADE)
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want

Segregation -

Oxford Town

Oxford Town, Oxford Town
Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down
The sun don't shine above the ground
Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town

He went down to Oxford Town
Guns and clubs followed him down
All because his face was brown
Better get away from Oxford Town

Oxford Town around the bend
He come in to the door, he couldn't get in
All because of the color of his skin
What do you think about that, my frien'?

Me and my gal, my gal's son
We got met with a tear gas bomb
I don't even know why we come
Goin' back where we come from

Oxford Town in the afternoon
Ev'rybody singin' a sorrowful tune
Two men died 'neath the Mississippi moon
Somebody better investigate soon

Oxford Town, Oxford Town
Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down
The sun don't shine above the ground
Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town

"Oh Happy Days"

(How little did we know what lay ahead for each one of us.)

Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte

Hush hush, sweet Charlotte

Charlotte, don't you cry

Hush hush, sweet Charlotte

He'll love you till he dies



Oh, hold him darling

Please hold him tight

And brush the tear from your eye

You weep because you had a dream last night

You dreamed that he said goodbye



He held two roses within his hand

Two roses he gave to you

The red rose tells you of his passion

The white rose his love so true



CHORUS



And every night after he shall die

Yes every night when he's gone

The wind will sing to you this lullaby

Sweet Charlotte was loved by John



CHORUS

(Patti Page)

blast from the past by Gil Scott-Heron:

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

and one from Peter Tosh, but it's anachronistic in a good way:

You in a me land
Quite illegal
You're in a me land
Dig out me gold
In a me land
Digging out me pearls
In a me land
Dig out me diamonds

CHORUS
We a go fight, fight, fight, fight 'gainst apartheid
We got to fight, fight, fight, fight 'against apartheid

You're in a me land
And you build up your 'partment
You're in a me land
You build up your regimes
You're in a me land
Only talk 'bout justice
You're in a me land
Handing down injustice

CHORUS

You're in a me land
You no build no school for black children
You're in a me land
No hospital for black people
You're in a me land
You build your prison
You're in a me land
You build their camp

CHORUS

Africa's for black man
Remember
There's certain place in Africa
Black man get no recognition

CHORUS

You cross the border
You shoot off the children
Cross the border
Shoot down women
Cross the border
You take your might
Cross the border
To beat for right
CHORUS

Ask for majority
Majority rule, yea
Who need minority
But that couldn't rule, yea

CHORUS

You break off
Break off from Britain
You're quite illiegal
Right where you are
You get your forces
From colonial powers
Taking my diamonds
Filling ballistic missiles

CHORUS

A bit of 70s Australiana:

Skyhooks

Livin' In The Seventies (G.Macainsh)

I feel a little crazy
I feel a little strange
Like I'm in a pay phone
Without any change
I feel a little edgy
I feel a little weird
I feel like a schoolboy
Who's grown a beard

I'm livin' in the 70's
Eatin' fake food under plastic trees
My face gets dirty just walkin' around
I need another pill to calm me down

I feel a bit nervous
I feel a bit mad
I feel like a good time that's never been had
I feel a bit fragile
I feel a bit low
Like I learned the right lines
But I'm on the wrong show

I'm livin' in the 70's
I feel like I lost my keys
Got the right day but I got the wrong week
And I get paid for just bein' a freak

I feel a little insane
I feel a bit dazed
My legs are shrinkin'
And the roof's been raised
I feel a little mixed up
I feel a little queer
I feel like a barman that can't drink a beer

Singing in the Rain is a song that rtruly eflects changes in our society.

I mean, who sings in the rain anymore?

Garbage do - 'I'm only happy when it rains'

More Skyhooks

Whatever Happened To The Revolution (G.Macainsh)

Whatever happened to the revolution
We all got stoned and it drifted away
Whatever happened to the revolution
I think it died just yesterday

Whatever happened to the revolution
We all got stoned and it drifted away
Whatever happened to the revolution
I think it died just yesterday
I think it died just yesterday

Well I remember back in Nineteen Seventy
The army wanted you and the army wanted me
There was a war goin' on we were out in the streets
Wearin' our badges and stampin' our feet

There's a hundred thousand people all on my side
We didn't care if we lived or died
Hundred thousand people going to make it come
Hundred thousand people had the man on the run

*Whatever happened to the revolution (8 times)

Everybody thought we could win with a vote
So the band went home without playin' a note
We forgot about that war but it still went on
I'm alright Jack see you round so long
I'm alright Jack see you round so long

And now today everyone's a bit older
We're gettin' richer but we're gettin' colder
We're lookin' for somethin' that just ain't there
And it don't mean nothin' to have long hair
So when you're ready to make a stand
Open your mouth and raise your hand
When you're sick of your parties and sick of your sweets
Get off your arses I'll see you out in the streets

Some more from the pens of Rodgers and Hammerstein, this time from Oklahoma (1943) and Ado Annie's charming ode to nymphomania.

It ain't so much a question of not knowing what to do.
I knowed whut's right and wrong since I been ten.
I heared a lot of stories and I reckon they are true
About how girls're put upon by men.
I know I mustn't fall into the pit,
But when I'm with a feller, I fergit!
I'm jist a girl who cain't say no,
I'm in a turrible fix I always say "come on, le's go"
Jist when I orta say nix!
When a person tries to kiss a girl,
I know she orta give his face a smack.
But as soon as someone kisses me,
I somehow, sorta, wanta kiss him back!
I'm jist a fool when lights are low
I cain't be prissy and quaint
I ain't the type that can faint
How c'n I be whut I ain't?
I cain't say no!
Whut you goin' to do when a feller gits flirty, and starts to talk purty?
Whut you goin' to do?
S'posin' 'at he says 'at yer lips're like cherries, er roses, er berries?
Whut you goin' to do?
S'posin' 'at he says 'at you're sweeter 'n cream,
And he's gotta have cream er die?
Whut you goin' to do when he talks that way,
Spit in his eye?
I'm jist a girl who cain't say no,
Cain't seem to say it at all
I hate to disserpoint a beau
When he is payin' a call!
Fer a while I ack refined and cool,
A settin on the velveteen setee
Nen I think of thet ol' golden rule,
And do fer him what he would do fer me!
I cain't resist a Romeo
In a sombrero and chaps
Soon as I sit on their laps
Somethin' inside of me snaps
I cain't say no!

Paul Anka - Having my baby

Yeah paul - it's all about you...

Having my baby
what a lovely way of saying
How much you love me.
Having my baby
what a lovely way of saying
What you're thinking of me.
I can see it your face is glowing

I can see it in your eyes.
I'm happy knowin' that you're having my baby.
You're the woman I love and I love what it's doin' to you.
Having my baby
you're a woman in love and I love
What's goin' through you.
The need inside you
I see it showin'
Oh
the seed inside you
baby
do you feel it growin'
Are you happy in knowin' that you're having my baby?

I'm a woman in love and I love
What it's doin' to me.
Having my baby.
I'm a woman in love and I love
What's goin' through me.

Didn't have to keep it
wouldn't put you through it.
You could have swept it from your life
But you wouldn't do it
no
you wouldn't do it.
And you're having my baby.

I'm a woman in love and I love

Burt Bacharach wrote this at a time when women were defined by the men that they were with. Many women would grab on to just any man, no matter how inappropriate, so that they would not be alone.

I have known a number of very strange couplings in my lifetime, where apparently the only reason that the woman stayed with the guy was because he was a man. In those years, many women felt that they were not complete without a male partner.

After the women's movement, there were songs like "I Will Survive", which showed a spunky woman, who was not dependent on a man in order to find fulfillment.