Long before the mp3, before the CD, before the cassette tape, there were 8-Tracks. It was meant to be a more portable version of reel-to-reel tape, which was popular with audiophiles of the era. I fondly remember my portable Panasonic 8-Track player and many of the 8-Track tapes I intentionally and, frequently accidentally, acquired through the Columbia Record and Tape Club. Accidentally, of course, when I forgot to mail back those damned cards. But that was just another way to discover new music, right? That’s my excuse and I’m owning it (only because I forgot to send back the card for the Weak Excuse of the Month Club).

Enjoy 8Track by Jim Boggia.

My older sister used to spend all of her time listening to 8Tracks.
She had a plastic Panasonic that she carried in her backpack.

Fresh as a Daisy was her favorite song.
She taught me the words and we’d sing along.
We always had a lot of fun listening to records on the 8Track.

Sometimes the way the music played it came out different on the 8Track.
They did a lot of crazy things to make the record fit the format.

They’d move the songs around to do the math.
Sometimes they’d even cut the songs in half.
But even so, the way my sister always listened was on 8Track.

And we’d sing: “Ooh la la la. Ooh la la la. Ooh la la la. Ooh la la la.”

We’d start it off on Program 1, then Program 2, then Program 3, then Program 4, and then it STOPPED!

PRESS FAST FORWARD!!!

I made this whole thing up, I was too young.
But still, it seems like it was lots of fun.
I know I missed out on a lot because I never had an 8Track.

(I don’t even have a sister.)

If you have a favorite song that features entertaining lyrics which you’d like to see featured as a Lyric of the Week, drop me a line in the comments (or email me at ed@suitcasefullofdimes.com) and tell me what you find special about the song.

Being the ninth Lyric of the Week, I thought this week’s song should be about nothing (the theme for this week’s Nickel Quiz was “Nein,” which is German for “no”). While Del Amitri is better known for songs like Roll To Me and Not Where It’s At, this is the song that gets me singing along in the car every time it comes up randomly on the iPod.

Enjoy Nothing Ever Happens by Del Amitri.

Post office clerks put up signs saying ‘position closed’
And secretaries turn off typewriters and put on their coats
And janitors padlock the gates
For security guards to patrol
And bachelors phone up their friends for a drink
While the married ones turn on a chat show

And they’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Gentlemen time please, you know we can’t serve anymore
Now the traffic lights change to stop, when there’s nothing to go
And by five o’clock everything’s dead
And every third car is a cab
And ignorant people sleep in their beds
Like the doped white mice in the college lab

And nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Telephone exchanges click while there’s nobody there
The Martians could land in the car park and no one would care
Closed-circuit cameras in department stores
Shoot the same movie every day
And the stars of these films neither die nor get killed
Just survive constant action replay

And nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

And bill hoardings advertise products that nobody needs
While “Angry from Manchester” writes to complain about
All the repeats on TV
Computer terminals report some gains in the values of copper and tin
While American businessmen snap up Van Goghs
For the price of a hospital wing

And nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before

And nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
They’ll burn down the synagogues at six o’clock
And we’ll all go along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

If you have a favorite song that features entertaining lyrics which you’d like to see featured as a Lyric of the Week, drop me a line in the comments (or email me at ed@suitcasefullofdimes.com) and tell me what you find special about the song.

This week’s song is just the sort of song that makes me think clever-turn-of-phrase. Its clever referencing of famous songs featuring numbers reminds of the way songs like Reunion‘s Life Is a Rock (But the Radio Rolled Me) and Don McLean‘s American Pie referenced other artists.

Enjoy Plus Ones by Okkervil River.

No one wants to hear about your ninety-seventh tear,
so dry your eyes or let it go uncried, my dear.
I am all out of love to mouth into your ear,
and not above letting a love song disappear
before it’s written.

And no one wants a tune about the hundredth luftballoon
that was seen shooting from the window of your room,
to be a spot against the sky’s colossal gloom
and land, deflated, in some neighbor state that’s strewn
with ninety-nine others.

Eight Chinese brothers;
well, there’s a reason why the last is smiling wide
and sitting higher than the others,
swinging his arms.

You would probably die before you shot up nine miles high,
your eyes dilated as light plays upon the sight
of TVC16 as it sings you goodnight.
Relaxed as hell and locked up in cell 45,
I hope you’re feeling better.
The fifty-first way to leave your lover,
admittedly, doesn’t seem to be
as gentle or as clean as all the others,
leaving its scars.

All in the after hours of some Greenpoint bar,
I told you I can’t listen, baby, about the fourth time you were a lady,
and how your forthrightness betrayed a secret shyness,
stripped away by days of being hailed as “Your Highness.”
And what’s new, pussycat, is that you were once a lioness;
they cut your claws out.

Kitten, not everyone’s keen on lighting candle seventeen.
The party’s done. The cake’s all gone. The plates are clean.
The chauffeur’s leering from the cheerless mezzanine.
And, in just one year, the straight world can pay to see
what they’ve been missing.

You were caught kissing eight Chinese brothers,
but there’s a reason why the last is smiling wide and sitting higher than the others,
stinking with charm.

And he says, “Lets get lost, let them send out alarms.”
He says, “Let’s get crossed out and come to harm”
“Lets make the world’s stupidest stand and truly mean it
Let’s hit the limit of loss over lover’s arms
No, lets exceed it”

If you have a favorite song that features entertaining lyrics which you’d like to see featured as a Lyric of the Week, drop me a line in the comments (or email me at ed@suitcasefullofdimes.com) and tell me what you find special about the song.