Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day. What a weird mind-boggling howliday. I have never quite understood it. For whatever reason, I have always found it to be more tragic than celebratory. Like that Police song- the one that everyone thought was a love song, but was more a song of spite than an expression of affection- Valentine's Day is an irony, a tragedy, and open to every misperception imaginable. I suppose it doesn't matter what the intention is, it all rests in the interpretation of the recipient, and in the case of music- that is the listener. It is up to the perception of listener  what you walk away with in the end. 

I know that it sounds so typically male- to not jump feet first into sappy sentimentalism..... it even feels like a typical stereotyped guy thing. How dude of me. You'd almost expect me to be at a tailgate party with a kegger hanging out with the bros- but it's not really like that. I just can't get behind the pink teddybears holding a heart that says "I love you"  and the hastily assembled last minute Valentine's Day road stops along the highways and the bad pre-wrapped chocolate that is supposed to show the appointed one that he or she is, indeed,  the annointed one. That shouldn't imply that I want it to be that way. It also shouldn't imply that I don't recognize an extremely long run-on sentence when I see one.

There is something ironic in having to sell the concept of love as a bi-product, and something genuinely offensive in having to feel some measure of guilt or shortsightedness in failing to jump through the hoops of love. There is something cute in mistletoe, but there is nothing cute about turning the idea of love into a trivial marketing campaign. The whole crass commercialism part aside- Valentine's Day is second only to Christmas in wasted revenue on bullshit like dead roses- there is something I find truly offensive in having to remind people to show affection on any single day, as opposed to every single day. It's a Hallmark Holiday.


It wouldn't be Hallmark, but a car dealer to finally embrace the Buzzcocks. Don't ask me why- I have no idea. I have seen the Buzzcocks probably more times than I recall, and further back than I care to- but I am a sucker for pop hooks and love songs, so there you go. The last time I saw them was when the Adolescents played as direct support for them in Sao Paulo. What was originally pitched as a South American tour was trimmed down to a night- but what a night it was. The bands were great, a storm cam and flooded out the club during sound check, and it was packed to the gills. But back to love songs and the theme. Imagine, a world in which the Buzzcocks are only listened to one day a year. That would be a real drag.

So, the origin of Saint Valentine's Day is some unknown, forgotten saint that even Catholics don't give a crap about. I guess that it makes perfect sense that he has been devalued to the point of being symbolized by cupid- a naked little cherub wrapped in a toga shooting arrows at the unsuspecting. Where was cupid on February 14, 1929? Certainly not in Chicago, although the thought of Cupid in a fedora, holding a tommygun, and chomping on a cigar does make me chuckle a little bit. "Awright you mugs, this is a love note from Al."  (I have chosen to decline to post the picture of dead mobsters with blood and brains spilling out. I'll leave that icky Valentine's Day post for our pals at creepyguydotcom.)

In any event, nothing says Valentine's Day like the collateral damage that was Badfinger. I revisit Badfinger every few months. Outside of the uplifting lead in what is easily the coolest bridge this side of the Beatles, Baby Blue sums up the bummer side of love pretty well. It just sounds so distant to me. Pete Ham did that so well. What a talent. Most of the Badfinger history just sounds like a tragic and ironic love story. Bad management and money issues aside, they wrote the heartbreakers that everyone on earth but they themselves benefited from. When the smoke cleared and the lawsuits were almost finished there were two dead. A tragic end for such wonderful music.

Speaking of tragic love songs, there is always Joy Division. Most of their catalogue just sounds hollow and empty.... like a cavern. Even on the Warsaw demos, love songs never sounded so far, far away.  I suppose the transformation to New Order made sense; it would be impossible to look toward a brighter tomorrow while living in the eternally dark past.

Happy Valentines Day.