Herbietown - I Like to Sing in My Car

I Like to Sing in My Car

Best Radio Station in Atlanta

Best Radio Station in Atlanta

My car is an extension of my shower.  A place where I can sing without anyone hearing.  Singing while driving is amazing.

As I trade my 80 minute Metro-North train ride for a 30 minute Atlanta traffic jam, I need to find new ways to entertain myself, new routines.  One new routine is waking up at 5am to write, because I can no longer write on my commute.

But that doesn’t mean that I can’t find ways to satisfy my spiritual needs while commuting.

I had been listening to 98.9 The Bone in my rental cars.  It’s an awesome Atlanta rock station with lots of new music that makes me feel young again, but enough old stuff that I know the words to most of it.  For example, they’ll play Bush or Green Day or Creed and I’ll just rock out in the car.

Well I just heard the news today
It seems my life is going to change
I close my eyes, begin to pray
Then tears of joy stream down my face

With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I’ll show you everything
With arms wide open
With arms wide open

There’s always that awkward moment when traveling on the highway, when another car sort of pulls up alongside mine and we’re traveling at the same speed for a few moments.  They glance over, perhaps because my rocking head catches their eye, and they see me belting out the lyrics, not just humming or singing under my breath either, but going to town like the lead singer at a rock concert.

I don’t stop either, I just keep my eyes forward and stay in the groove.

Since I shipped my own car down to Atlanta, I no longer have to rely on The Bone for my music.  I have my CD’s.  There are 6 in the changer:

  • Goodie Mob’s Still Standing
  • Outkast’s ATLiens
  • Outakst’s Southerplayalisticcaddillacfunkymusic
  • Outkast’s Aquemini
  • Gilberto & Getz (the one with The Girl from Ipanema)
  • Radiohead’s OK Computer.

OK Computer has these soaring lyrics that are perfect for rainy days – nothing beats Karma Police or Exit Music for a Film.

This is what you get
This is what you get
This is what you get when you mess with us

And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself

For for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
For for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself

I never listen to Gilberto & Getz because I’m rarely in the mood for elevator music while driving (it’s a great disc for background music while writing though).

The rap music from Atlanta artists gives me a surge of love for my new hometown.  I especially like Andre 3000.  I love when they rap about Atlanta, though it’s usually the places they came from like East Point, Decatur, and College Park, and not the places I’m likely to live, like East Cobb, Marietta, or Buckhead.  That would be awesome if they rapped about those places.  A girl can dream.

My favorite verse from Andre 3000 is either this one:

Friends, Romans, countrymen lend me yo’ eardrums
It was a beautiful day off in the neighborhood
Yellows and greens and blues and browns
and greys and hues that ooze beneath dilapidated woods
Ain’t a thing could explain what pertains
to cocaine it’s a stain that rain
See summer roll around niggaz holla bout change
Then they steady move them ki’s like Bob James
Cause old man winter’s arrived, the temperature dives
November just died, December’s alive
Thus it ain’t no typical ride
Just individual’s way to bring home
the bacon when bacon was all gone
Makin it our own, takin me all wrong
We’ve all indulged in the bulge of those no-no’s
No you ain’t solo, it’s even lower levels you can go
Take sun people, put ’em in a land of snow

I’m not sure what it means but it’s beautiful.  The other one I like is from Ain’t no thang:

3-5-7 to your fo’head, there’ll be mo’ dead
Cuz I’mma po’ kid
So Lord forgive me, I got to keep my milly right here near me
When I be doin fine until these niggaz want to clear me off my street
But in my hood hood, they hollerin ghetto
Don’t have no neighbors that hit the pipe but never let go
But I feel for them like Chaka Khan feel for you
Ain’t shit that we can do but rest in peace, pour a brew
On the concrete, remember when we ran deep
Remember at the party when we served them niggaz dandy
They know not to test us, test me, do me, try me
Trippin with that drama, my Beretta’s right beside me
One is in mid-air and one is the chamber
Y’all ask me what the fuck I’m doin, I’m releasin anger
Quick to dodge danger, I’m takin it one day
At a time, I got the fattest dimes around my way
You can sway with Andre, I’ll take her to the ho-jo, bitch
Just let you know, yeah

[Chorus (2X)]
Ain’t no thang but a chicken wang
We havin a smoke out in the Dungeon with the Mary Jane
It’s just a pimps (players), Mack daddies (East Point)
It’s all about that ses in yo chest (It’s the joint)

I like to think that they’re not really rapping about guns.  That “Ain’t no thang but a chicken wang” is just slang meaning it’s not a gun, it’s just a chicken wing.  We’re just getting creative and trying to be hard, because it’s gonna sell some records.  Really we’re into the beats and the rhymes.  But I doubt it.

Yes, it brings to mind the amazing opening scene of Office Space, where Michael Bolton raps in traffic on his way to work, then locks the door and turns down the music when a black guy walks by.

I’ve got my pistol pon cock
Ready to lick shots non-stop
Until I see your monkey-ass drop
And let your homies know who done it
Cause when it comes to this gangsta shit
you muthafuckas know who run it
So when you put this muthafucka to the test
You gotta realize somethin, nigga: (you fuckin with the very best)
I’ve got this killer up inside of me
I can’t talk to my mother, so I talk to my diary

That’s me.  All passion at 7:30 am.  Ready to attack my day.

Now I just need to find a good recording of Damn Yankee Lad by King Wilkie.