Jane Jensen’s Luv Song is a fun little ode to the perfect boyfriend–at least as defined by Jan Jensen. It’s a cool song: Jane’s occasionally atonal vocals, charming spoken word bits, and a nifty beat make this song a lot of fun to listen to.
And, of course, the lyrics:
[speaking]
That wasn’t very encouraging. I don’t wanna stop your creative flow, honey. Are you sure? That was cute. Isn’t he sweet? I’m overly-excited. A lot of ideas. A little headphone bleed. Ow! All right! Do it again.
Heyyyy. Here’s a “luv” song for your boyfriend.
A luv song for your new boyfriend!
He’s gotta be cool like James Dean.
And burn like fire.
He’s sweet like sugar.
Or like custard and desire.
Never walks away from a good fight.
Never gets sleepy - he goes down all night
Here’s a luv song for your boyfriend.
A luv song for your new boyfriend.
He’s gotta act like a maniac, and never get hurt.
He drives a 4 wheel slam, off road in the dirt.
He’s sweet, He’s fine.
He’s Mr. Slick on time.
And your mama’s gotta love him.
Or he ain’t worth a dime!
Here’s a luv song for your new boyfriend. Here’s a luv song for your new boyfriend.
[speaking]
He’s not codependent or anything weird like that. No fertilizer bomb materials in his closet. Not convicted of any major crimes. Not really much into Entomology. Never tries to calm you down.You can stay out all night…talk all you want. Hes not jealous of your friends that are guys… and thinks they’re really cool.
Here’s a luv song for your boyfriend.
[speaking]
What did you say?
Is he a real pool shark? And can he shake it like Elvis?Is he down for the barbecue, the race and the relatives?Can he rebuild the engine of a ‘56 Chevy?Can he down a whiskey-sour and knock off an Ever-Ready battery?
Here’s a luv song for your boyfriend.
A luv song for your new boyfriend.
Here’s a luv song for your boyfriend.
[speaking]
Do you have a bottle opener?
Here’s a luv song for your new boyfriend…
[speaking]
Baby this one’s not cold go get me another one
For my inaugural post on this new blog, I’d like to talk about Elvis Costello’s version of Leon Payne’s Psycho.
This is an interesting song, and I understand it’s been heavily covered. I first heard this version in the 80’s. The song is apparently about a true story of a psycho killer who shot a bunch of people and a puppy before killing himself. From elvis-costello.info:
“Psycho is based on a series killings in 1966 by a 25-year-old University of Texas graduate student, Charles Whitman, who went berserk with a rifle, killing 20 people & injuring another 28 including his ex-wife, her new boyfriend, some small chilren & a puppy. The murderer’s conversation throughout the song (”You think I’m psycho, dincha, Mama?”) draws on the fact that Whitman knew he was going out of his mind, tried to get help and left a death note asking for an autopsy which he hoped would absolve him of blame by proving he was mad.” - from UK magazine ‘Q’ (Aug-95).
It’s a very haunting song. EC delivers it quietly: in fact you can barely hear him or the instrumentation in the background, making for a stirring, jarring recitation. In my opinion, Costello is one of the better cover artists out there for interpretation, and this particular cover creates a spooky mood. It was originally recorded as a B-side for Sweet Dreams from his album of country covers, Almost Blue.
Here are the lyrics, once again courtesy of Elviscostello.info:
Can Mary fry some fish, mama?
I’m as hungry as can be
Oh lord, how I wish, mama
You could stop the baby crying
‘Cause my head is killing me
I saw my ex again last night, mama
She was at the dance at Miller’s store
She was with that Jackie White, mama
I killed them both and they’re buried under Jacob’s sycamore
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
I didn’t mean to break your cup
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
You better let ‘em lock me up
Oh, don’t hand me Johnny’s pup, mama
‘Cause I might squeeze him too tight
I’m havin’ crazy dreams again, mama
So let me tell you ’bout last night
I woke up in Johnny’s room, mama
Standing right there by his bed
With my hands around his throat, mama
Wishing both of us were dead
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
I just killed Johnny’s pup
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
You’d better let ‘em lock me up
Oh you recall that little girl, mama
I believe her name was Betty Clark
Oh don’t tell me that she’s dead, mama
‘Cause I just saw her in the park
We were sitting on a bench. mama
Thinking up a game to play
Seems I was holding a wrench. mama
And then my mind just walked away
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
I didn’t mean to break your cup
You think I’m psycho, don’t you, mama?
Mama, why don’t you get up?