While Jim Treacher searches for rare specimens to add to his butterfly collection, other people will be trawling. Like David Burge: David blogs at Iowahawk.
I like to think of myself as two things: (1) an optimist, and (2) a car guy. Unfortunately, the age of Goverment Motors has made those two things increasingly irreconcilable. And nothing better illustrates this than the sad devolution of car music.
Consider, if you will, Chevy’s once proud musical history: In the Fifties, Dinah Shore famously saw the USA in her Chevrolet. In the Sixties the Beach Boys saved their pennies and saved their dimes for a 4-speed dual quad positraction 409, while Shutting Down a 413 Superstock Dodge with a fuel injected Stingray; Paul Revere and the Raiders countered with a porcupine Chevelle SS 396. Those vatos from War rocked the Seventies gas crisis in an Impala Low-ri-der, while Sammy Johns was alright with makin’ love in his creepyChevy Van. In the Eighties, the Dead Milkmen sang the praises of a Bitchin’ Camaro; In the Nineties the Ramones further egged it on with Go Little Camaro Go.
Fine iPod selections all, and in praise of a revered American car brand. Now behold — if you dare — the brave new world of government-sponsored Chevrolet song.
Dance, hipster marionettes! Dance to the jaunty, infantile Sesame Street folk guitar beat, thinly warbling the Gaia-saving virtues of your eco-appliance, designed by law school engineering experts in Washington DC. Maintain your vacant smile and perhaps you will be issued extra rations of driving privileges.
If this ditty makes you want to go down to the Chevy dealer and plunk down 41 large (less $7500 government good citizen credit!), then God Bless You.
As for me, I’m sticking with Ford. Their songs are better.