Man, get your cheesy act together!
(Close your eyes
Let me tell you all the reasons why
Think you’re one of a kind.
Here’s to you
The one that always pulls us through
Always do what you got to do
You’re one of a kind
Thank God you're mine.
You’re an angel dressed in armor
You’re the fair in every fight
You’re my life and my safe harbour
Where the sun sets every night
And if my love is blind
I don’t want to see the light
Let me tell you all the reasons why
Think you’re one of a kind.
Here’s to you
The one that always pulls us through
Always do what you got to do
You’re one of a kind
Thank God you're mine.
You’re an angel dressed in armor
You’re the fair in every fight
You’re my life and my safe harbour
Where the sun sets every night
And if my love is blind
I don’t want to see the light
I bet you too keep coming across songs that immediately wake up the producer in you. You listen to a track and think: No, not like that. Like this. This is what I thought when listening (during my 5-hour night walk along the local coast to greet this year's summer) to Michael Buble’s Close your eyes. The music itself is so cheesy that you could barely get away with it playing it to close friends during an informal dinner party after they’ve already had two or three double ones. But then there are the words: they would be (barely) tolerable when sung to the woman in question, but to use them in a song performed publically and released world-wide?
It all seems so obvious to the producer in you that he immediately wants to grab the phone and ring his counterpart that keeps botching Buble’s songs up and give him a tip: you don’t put cheesy on top of cheesy! True, some more sophisticated ways of avoiding the double cheese whammy may be beyond the reach of the average artist or producer, but there are also very simple, if not simplistic, solutions: when you sing 'I love you', you add unstettling, or at least ugly, music; when you you sing to her (and the world) that you want to do something slow, why don't you sing it fast? when you describe a calm night walk, you add a psycho killer; is it so difficult to get. So you dial the number and .... you put the phone away - the producer in you realises what artistic principle makes the other guy do the ugly, cheesy things he does: sales.
It all seems so obvious to the producer in you that he immediately wants to grab the phone and ring his counterpart that keeps botching Buble’s songs up and give him a tip: you don’t put cheesy on top of cheesy! True, some more sophisticated ways of avoiding the double cheese whammy may be beyond the reach of the average artist or producer, but there are also very simple, if not simplistic, solutions: when you sing 'I love you', you add unstettling, or at least ugly, music; when you you sing to her (and the world) that you want to do something slow, why don't you sing it fast? when you describe a calm night walk, you add a psycho killer; is it so difficult to get. So you dial the number and .... you put the phone away - the producer in you realises what artistic principle makes the other guy do the ugly, cheesy things he does: sales.
PS The Proclaimers, on the other hand, are bang on. Whatever cheesy is there, is made edible by an admixture of energy, no-nonsese-ness, straightforwardness. Actually they sound so genuine (and Scottish, if the two are not one and the same thing; what does ‘you are gluing*’ mean, by the way?) that the producer in me hesitates whether the lyrics are cheesy at all.
*perhaps 'life didn't get her yet' because she's gluing? ...sorry, I'm being cynical (and I'm not).
*perhaps 'life didn't get her yet' because she's gluing? ...sorry, I'm being cynical (and I'm not).
