This post started out in the R.I.P. thread, but I felt it was better to place it in a thread all its own out of respect for Ms. Houston's passing.
I had quite the love/hate relationship with Whitney Houston's recordings. Early on, her pop stuff sounded exciting, her voice was just fine and her hits were all over the radio. And then she did "That Song". You know, the one written by Dolly Parton?
I was sitting in the office at work back in late 1992 and it came on for the first time. Within the first half-minute, she'd almost reached the incredible levels that she normally got to for the finales of other songs. I couldn't imagine where it was going. And just like a recording that's brick-walled, it quickly headed into the realms beyond which I was willing to listen. It grated on me. Big-time. Couldn't tolerate it.
On that first hearing, as bad of a reaction as I had to it, I could instantly tell that this song would surely go to #1, and I was right. But it would have to do so without me. I vowed then and there that I would do all in my power to avoid it wherever I was, whenever I could. It wouldn't be easy. A #1 song gets played a lot. Over and over. And working for an Adult Contemporary station, I knew it would be coming out of my radio at least once every day, sometimes twice. And this was the kind of record that had the potential to become an earworm - a song that gets stuck in your head and you can't get rid of it. And I didn't want THAT song in my head - ever.
Thankfully, our program director at the time, I think, realized the "irritant factor" of the song, and kept its playing times to a minimum for such a big record. So it really was just once a day that I'd have to either turn off the station or leave the office - which were my two choices. The problem with just turning it off is, the number of other office workers who also had radios at their desk, who'd turn it UP to revel in the song. So I was often forced to leave the office for the four and a half minutes that the song would play. Typically, I head for either the mens' room or downstairs to the snack shop, and the opening notes of the song began to trigger an almost Pavlovian response in me.
During any time in cars or at home when I was in control of the radio, it posed no problem to avoid the song. It was out in restaurants and shopping areas where difficulties could sometimes arise. But thankfully, it didn't really happen as often as one might think. I can recall maybe seven to ten times during the song's heyday that I was out in public and had to go somewhere else. There was the time in a diner and I excused myself and went outside for a few minutes. I recall another time in a card shop in a mall that I had to stand outside to get away from it.
As things turned out, I was successful. I managed to avoid the song becoming an earworm. In fact, I don't think I've heard the thing more than a handful of times in my life. I still head for the exits whenever I hear those opening a capella notes, but at least the record remained relatively unplayed on outlets that I tend to be around.
Now, I fear, that's about to change. I just read that iTunes is reporting that song as #1 again since Ms. Houston's passing. And every newscast must be avoided for awhile. But I think I can do it. I've dealt with it before - I can do it again. This time around will surely be shorter, and being retired, I don't have radios on nearly as much.
Meanwhile, the bulk of the earlier Whitney Houston catalog doesn't bother me at all. I even loved her rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" enough to have bought the CD that they released. But I think it was the influence of both her and Mariah Carey that all but, IMHO, ruined vocal pop singing, with their "melisma" technique of moving pitch around a sustained note. I never cared for that - still don't - and I wish it would go out of style. I seem to be fairly alone on that point, as it seems to be THIS VERY THING that draws big positive reactions from audiences.
Actually, I was beginning to sense a trend lately that the constant melisma in pop music was beginning to subside. Hits I've heard lately tend to be back to purer melodies, sung in a more traditional style - still gooped up with modern recording techniques - but better to my ears in terms of listenability. And this is all purely my personal opinion. I'm not putting anyone else down nor do I wish to deprive anyone of their own preferences. That technique is just not for me.
So, bottom line, if you happen to be around me in a restaurant and I quickly excuse myself, take a listen to the piped-in music, it just might be a case of me still trying to avoid "that song."
Harry
I had quite the love/hate relationship with Whitney Houston's recordings. Early on, her pop stuff sounded exciting, her voice was just fine and her hits were all over the radio. And then she did "That Song". You know, the one written by Dolly Parton?
I was sitting in the office at work back in late 1992 and it came on for the first time. Within the first half-minute, she'd almost reached the incredible levels that she normally got to for the finales of other songs. I couldn't imagine where it was going. And just like a recording that's brick-walled, it quickly headed into the realms beyond which I was willing to listen. It grated on me. Big-time. Couldn't tolerate it.
On that first hearing, as bad of a reaction as I had to it, I could instantly tell that this song would surely go to #1, and I was right. But it would have to do so without me. I vowed then and there that I would do all in my power to avoid it wherever I was, whenever I could. It wouldn't be easy. A #1 song gets played a lot. Over and over. And working for an Adult Contemporary station, I knew it would be coming out of my radio at least once every day, sometimes twice. And this was the kind of record that had the potential to become an earworm - a song that gets stuck in your head and you can't get rid of it. And I didn't want THAT song in my head - ever.
Thankfully, our program director at the time, I think, realized the "irritant factor" of the song, and kept its playing times to a minimum for such a big record. So it really was just once a day that I'd have to either turn off the station or leave the office - which were my two choices. The problem with just turning it off is, the number of other office workers who also had radios at their desk, who'd turn it UP to revel in the song. So I was often forced to leave the office for the four and a half minutes that the song would play. Typically, I head for either the mens' room or downstairs to the snack shop, and the opening notes of the song began to trigger an almost Pavlovian response in me.
During any time in cars or at home when I was in control of the radio, it posed no problem to avoid the song. It was out in restaurants and shopping areas where difficulties could sometimes arise. But thankfully, it didn't really happen as often as one might think. I can recall maybe seven to ten times during the song's heyday that I was out in public and had to go somewhere else. There was the time in a diner and I excused myself and went outside for a few minutes. I recall another time in a card shop in a mall that I had to stand outside to get away from it.
As things turned out, I was successful. I managed to avoid the song becoming an earworm. In fact, I don't think I've heard the thing more than a handful of times in my life. I still head for the exits whenever I hear those opening a capella notes, but at least the record remained relatively unplayed on outlets that I tend to be around.
Now, I fear, that's about to change. I just read that iTunes is reporting that song as #1 again since Ms. Houston's passing. And every newscast must be avoided for awhile. But I think I can do it. I've dealt with it before - I can do it again. This time around will surely be shorter, and being retired, I don't have radios on nearly as much.
Meanwhile, the bulk of the earlier Whitney Houston catalog doesn't bother me at all. I even loved her rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" enough to have bought the CD that they released. But I think it was the influence of both her and Mariah Carey that all but, IMHO, ruined vocal pop singing, with their "melisma" technique of moving pitch around a sustained note. I never cared for that - still don't - and I wish it would go out of style. I seem to be fairly alone on that point, as it seems to be THIS VERY THING that draws big positive reactions from audiences.
Actually, I was beginning to sense a trend lately that the constant melisma in pop music was beginning to subside. Hits I've heard lately tend to be back to purer melodies, sung in a more traditional style - still gooped up with modern recording techniques - but better to my ears in terms of listenability. And this is all purely my personal opinion. I'm not putting anyone else down nor do I wish to deprive anyone of their own preferences. That technique is just not for me.
So, bottom line, if you happen to be around me in a restaurant and I quickly excuse myself, take a listen to the piped-in music, it just might be a case of me still trying to avoid "that song."
Harry