Ricky Nelson died at the age of 45 in a plane crash the year I turned eleven. I cannot say that I was familiar with Ricky Nelson at that age, for "Ozzie and Harriet" did not run in syndication on our local channels, unlike "I Love Lucy," and "The Honeymooners." I had heard Nelson's name mentioned more than once by my father, who bore a physical resemblance to Mr. Nelson and was born three years after him. Ricky Nelson was a teen idol who shot to prominence owing not only to the success of his parents' sitcom, but also to his considerable talent. Although blessed with the appearance worthy of a teen idol, his abilities rendered him far above the category of "bubblegum pop."
Last night, whilst scouring Youtube for popular music prior to the British Invasion and the onset of psychedelia, I came across a favorite I had neglected for far too long: Ricky Nelson's "Traveling Man." With delight, I replayed the clip three times and thought about the rich trove of music I had ignored for far too long: the music that enchanted us before the Beatles came upon the scene and radically altered popular entertainment. For over an hour, the pleasures of listening to Dion, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley, Little Richard, Jan and Dean, the Ronettes and so many others came back to me.
My wife, who holds similiar tastes to me, enthusiastically listened as I replayed the clip of the twenty-year-old Mr. Nelson rendering homage to all the girls he had loved before in a variety of locations. Some time earlier, my spouse and I had stumbled upon a clip for a "song" entitled "I got hoes in different area codes" by the appropriately self-labeled Ludacris. Now, my wife, like many others of her generation, has been influenced in a positive way by the feminist movement. Equality is expected and rightfully so; however, the song was as ludicrous as its writer and instead of taking offense, its absurdity drove her to laughter, as it did with me. What is striking is that so many of those who lament the vulgarization of our culture and who look to the "innocence" of the past do not recognize how so much of today's vulgarity has its antecedents in the past itself.
Returning to the "wholesome" clip of a young Mr. Nelson that I watched last night, it struck me that his song really did not differ all that much from the one of Mr. Ludacris. What differentiates it is, of course, the clean-cut appearance of Mr. Nelson (for all the appreciation I have of modernity, I do wish we had the same aesthetic as the early 1960s -my apologies, I just love narrow-lapeled suits and skinny ties!) and the relative coyness of the lyrics (at least compared to what is being offered fifty years later by Ludacris). Mr. Nelson sings of conquests awaiting him in disparate ports, an "Eskimo" girl who longs for him, a fraulein in Berlin, a señorita in "Old Mexico" and others. Mr. Ludacris more explicitly sings of conquests from area codes ranging from 702 to 212. Is there a difference? Well, of course; rock and roll and rap are two different genres. In reality, musical genres aside, the content is pretty much the same: a man who is coveted by women across the globe and has no qualms about boasting of it. The limits of Post-War America would not allow Mr. Nelson to more graphically illustrate just what the traveling man actually enjoyed in those corners of the globe.
To juxtapose Ricky Nelson and a rapper is not as ludicrous as it would sound. The nexus exists between the two, just today's musicians are a tad less tactful and evasive when detailing their escapades.
No comments:
Post a Comment