Five Song Friday #104: The Big Hair Breakup
This Week: Nonsensical Bias, Simultaneous Possession and Horse Tranquilizers
I broke up with my hair a long time ago.
Our relationship was dysfunctional for years and I was exhausted from fighting.
But I never considered a clean break until the night I saw Bruce Willis on David Letterman.
Bruce shaved his head for Pulp Fiction and looked goddamn glorious. I remember gazing upon his naked dome with wonder and envy.
The way it reflected the studio lights. The way it shined like polished gemstone.
I thought, if a charming and hunky Hollywood star could do it, why not me?
I thought, why should I have to bear the burden of shampooing, rinsing and repeating for the rest of my life?
Keep in mind this was the late nineties.
Bald was still a four-letter word.
In terms of role models, men had Kojak, Captain Picard and the guy from the 7UP commercials.
We were still hungover from the eighties, when going hairless on purpose was synonymous with being a skinhead.
But the night I saw Bruce felt like a revelation. Something clicked.
And that was it. That was the moment.
The guard on the clippers came off and I filled the sink with clumps of my stupid idiot hair.
Liberation day. Follicular freedom.
It felt amazing.
Those early days of baldness were beautiful. The feeling of subtle shifts in the breeze and the warmth of sunlight on my brain. Running my hands over the five o’clock skull stubble.
I stood up straighter, walked with a strut and laughed at people who complained about bed head.
All of my hats fit.
I bonded with newborns.
Best of all? I was bald by CHOICE.
I didn’t GO bald. It wasn’t something that happened to me slowly. There were no sad mornings waking to lost hairs on my pillow or weeping over fistfuls falling out in the shower.
No desperate combovers. No massaging my scalp with expensive potions.
For so many men in the world, baldness was a big prison bully. They feared and avoided it at all costs. They worried that it would grab them and do you know what to their you know where.
Me? I walked right up to baldness during yard time and punched it in the throat. I made baldness MY bitch.
Sure, I was going to miss my Lebanese stylist and the fresh feeling I’d get walking out of her salon into the world with my tight sides and spiked up top.
You know how great it feels right after a haircut?
I can have that every day. At home. For free.
Breaking up with my hair was one of the best things I’ve ever done.
Of course, I’ve since restored my head/hair balance by growing a big dumb beard.
My beard relationship is super chill. We never argue about anything.
We will probably be together forever.
Although, every once in a while I consider what it would be like to be completely hair free. Unattached to facial fur of any kind.
I wonder out loud if maybe I should shave my face clean and reset my ugly mug to its factory settings. Bare as a baby’s bottom.
Raw and rosy cheeked, so my I can greet the world with my all-nude chin.
Maybe it’s worth a try?
But then I hear a voice from beside me in the bed that says, oh no, definitely do not do that.
Please I beg of you.
No, oh God no.
So I guess the beard stays!
Five Song Friday 104
“Love Survive” - Michael Nau
I usually follow this unspoken rule not to add any songs that have tens of millions of streams. Gen X has a tendency to look down on anything popular as somehow “less than” or “square.” I’m still hardwired to think of selling out as selling out. I was never much of a joiner. But I also hate prejudice and it seems a shame to let my nonsensical bias come between your ears and this song. If you’ve heard it before, here it is again. If you haven’t, please enjoy. It is delightful.
“The End of a Gun” - GHOSTWOMAN
I am not a firearms expert. But I do know that the end of a gun is the scary part where bullets come from. I also know that ghost women are like ten times scarier than ghost men. Don’t even get me started on little ghost girls with long dark hair who look like they just crawled out of a lake! But despite all of those 100% actual facts, this song is not scary at all. It’s a little bit twangy, with a heavy throwback vibe and a singer who sounds like he’s simultaneously possessed by Mick Jagger and Van Morrison.
“That Man of Mine” -Joyce Street
If this sounds like a song sung in the 1970s by a Mississippi girl who jumped a Greyhound bus in search of California stardom, recorded a few tracks and then left a bit disillusioned but never gave up on singing and recording and paid for this song’s studio time with her own money because who needs the music industry’s bullshit anyway? There’s a really good reason.
“Leap of Faith” - Mr Jukes, De La Soul, Horace Andy
Sometimes the dumb stuff I write about a song is no match for simply sharing some of the lyrics: “She want a man in sleeves with no tricks / I wanna Gladys tonight with no pips / We take a leap of faith toward this / Hoping for the blessings that come after bliss.” Good good stuff from guest rappers De La Soul. And let’s not forget, “Your true religion unbuckled my bible belt.” Zoinks!
“Into the Groovey” - Sonic Youth
Have you ever wondered what it would sound like if you could listen to the Madonna song from Vision Quest while trapped in a dream sequence from Twin Peaks? Do you lay awake at night wondering what it sounds like when noisy indie art rock royalty (at the height of their powers) cover bubblegum pop at what sounds like half-speed with everyone doped on horse tranquilizers? Wonder no more!
“I used to imagine myself as a duck. An acid comment here, a trashed hotel room there – they were raindrops rolling off my duck’s back. A Zen duck. That was me. Quack, quack.” - Roger Daltrey (Born March 1, 1944)
That’s all for this week! Thanks for reading!
Sincerely,
DJ CrankyPete