On my drive home, XM Radio was playing The Mothers of Invention's "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama." My mind wafted back to when I first heard that song. It was Saturday on American Bandstand. It was that segment called "Rate a Record" where two teenagers listen to two singles as the rest of the audience dances to it. Then, they rate it, usually making comments like, "It had a really great beat Mr. Clark and I can tell it would be fun to dance to" or "I liked the words and loved the lyrics."
So, this day, "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama" was one of the songs. The two teen judges didn't quite know what to make of the song (remember, this was back when kids were still pretty intelligent-you know, MY generation). I don't remember what it was, but the other song got a better rating.
I also went back to when I was a youngster, sharing a bedroom with my older brother. He had one of those suitcase-like stereos with a fold-out turntable and you could place up to six albums on the record changer. He used to like to go to sleep with music playing.
I was indifferent to this.
One night, he had FREAKOUT by the Mo's of Invention as one of the selections. It was eerie, but I liked laying there in the dark, listening to the bizarre tunes.
The last album of the night was one by Steppenwolf. I don't remember the title, but the song playing was "The Pusher"-the one where John Kay growled out "God damn, God damn the pusherman!"
It was one of those extra-long tunes that was so popular back then.
It was not a song that lulled you to sleep.
I could hear that my brother was sleeping (i.e., snoring) and this song was keeping me awake, so I got up, leaned over my bedpost and, reaching through the darkness, turned off the record player.
Bro sputtered awake and snorted at me "hey, what are you doing? I was listening to that!"