With Age Comes....
I was thinking about Robert Palmer the other day. For those of you who don’t know, Robert had a number of hits in the late 80s and early 90s, mostly in the slick shiny rock style that was all the rage then. However I suspect while the songs were catchy it was the videos featuring the blank eyed supermodels pretending to be musicians grooving behind handsome Bob the front man that really drove the sales in that then brave new world of MTV. Which is not to say the Robert was short of talent, far from it. Some of his other singles had just as much substance as good flirty fun. Dalliances with electro pop produced the wonderful Johnny and Mary, big ballads like She Makes My day and even a Gary Numan cover with I Dream of Wires
But way before all that 1980s big hair and shoulder pads Robert carved out a good reputation if not great sales as a supple, smooth singer of soul and reggae tinged funk. Over four very eclectic albums in the 1970s, mostly recorded in gorgeous locations in The Caribbean, Robert worked with the best to produce some timeless songs that are well worth tracking down if white boy soul and smooth funk is your thing. Working with the likes the great Little Feat, New Orleans funk masters The Meters and Allen Toussaint and no doubt enjoying the island life, Robert built a nice little career that would get bigger if not as tasteful in the 80s.
So a pretty good effort really but then at the age of only 54 Robert suddenly carked it from a heart attack. Not as a result of drug abuse or misadventure I should add although he was a heavy smoker. He died three years younger than I am now, which is one of the reasons I am thinking about him.
On his “Sneaking Sally Through The Alley” album, whose cover features Robert playing what looks to be strip poker with the obligatory younger gorgeous model, he covers an old reggae tune called “Man Smart, Woman Smarter. “ There is an irony there.
During the song Bobby sings,
“A little boy sat down and cried
An old man came and asked him why
He said, I can’t do what the big boys do
The old man sat down and he cried too.”
That’s how I am feeling. Now this is not going to be an old fart rant about growing old and discovering that you can’t do what you used to do except that I guess that is exactly what it is. But I will keep it brief. Not being able to do what you used to be able to do in your sport, physical pastime even in the bedroom is a bummer. And I know it is part of life, happens to us all blah blah but it doesn’t mean I have to like it and I am finding it hard to manage this gracefully. I am beginning to understand better how my mum, now in her late 80s, gets really pissed off that she has to get someone else to open that glass jar with the lid that is really tight. Must be great waiting for someone to come by so you can have some dip. And by the way, why are the lids on jars of Salsa Dip so fucking tight?
Then of course there are the petty annoyances of hairs growing out your nose or your ears. I mean what is the evolutionary rationale behind that? How does a mature man having hair growing out of his ears assist in the survival of the species? And don’t forget your reading glasses when you go to restaurants, otherwise your ever-patient partner who has remembered hers, will have to read the menu for you. Or worse you borrow her glasses and when you put them on you realise you now look to the whole restaurant like Mrs. Doubtfire without the wig, and because I have a bigger head than The Artist I have stretched the glasses’ arms and now they are loose when she puts them back on.
Lets not even think about the wardrobe of slim fit shirts that seem to have become too slim.
And in return for these reminders of one’s mortality what does one get in return? Well according to an old saying you get wisdom. That could be a reasonable exchange except the world now changes so quickly that my alleged wisdom about, for example, how to write a good business letter or do a hill start is now redundant as the things that you are wise about now disappear from the planet before you do.
So as I now wish to accentuate the positive, I will give you the following wisdom, hard and recently earned through experience. The key of course is to do your best, change your goals, think about what your body needs now for exercise and why and be reasonable with your expectations. Because nowadays you are probably not going to out paddle or out position the hungry pack at a Queensland point break or rattle off 100 burpies like you used to. So seek other options. Rethink about what sex can be.
Keep your brain active. Try to keep up with new technology, new music, new movies etc. Don’t live in the past too much as it will just make it worse. Eat healthy and look after yourself mentally and physically. The rest, as I am discovering, is good grooming.
Robert Palmer probably thought he had had a pretty good life but I bet he would have wanted more than what he got. And even with the burden of beer gut, sore joints and hairy ears I guess I do too.
Six of Robert’s finest from the various stages of his career; he was not a big songwriter so most of his best efforts are covers.
Sailing Shoes – prime New Orleans funk
Every Kinda People – Simply a gorgeous ballad
I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On – Funky! Great bass riff and the sexual role reversal when a male sings the song is kind of fun or just dig the groove, up to you.
Bad Case Of Loving You – Robert does Power Pop
Looking For Clues – Electro Disco
Addicted to Love – Guitar Bump and grind 80s style
Want more in the same vein?
In the rock area perhaps check out the Duran Duran/ Robert Palmer side project - The Power Station or prime Def Leppard from the Hysteria album.
For white Boy funk and soul try the underrated Eddie Money, the awesome Little Feat or go for the more English version with The Style Council, Swing Out Sister, Scritti Politti or Deacon Blue
In Australia track down the Dynamic Hepnotics, early Jo Jo Zep, Machinations, The Eurogliders, I’m Talking and later period Models
