I’m afraid that today’s post is of a slightly libinous nature.
I usually try not to pay too much attention to the physical traits of female musicians (keep telling yourself Peter, “It’s all about the music, it’s all about the music…”), but in the 1980’s when I was but a lad (in my twenties), and with the regular amount of, er, inclinations (or as Troy McClure on The Simpsons once called them: Throbbing Biological Urges), I tended to fall in love quite easily with lady singers.
New Zealand singer/songwriter Sharon O’Neill is one such lady. The first song I heard from her was something called “Maxine”. It’s a tawdry tale of a prostitute, and it’s not the happiest song you’ll ever hear. But back then, as I was thoroughly enjoying the song I was also, courtesy of my age and inclinations, thinking “Sharon O’Neil – what a honey”, completing disregarding the plight of the unfortunate lady in the song (i.e., Maxine).
In 1983 I thought it was a great song. Listening to it now, and with my hormones having settled down somewhat, I still think it’s a great song. But now I’m paying more attention to Maxine’s fate than the appearance of the lady who’s singing about her.
Now that I’ve confessed that youthful indiscretion, I’d like you to hear what I think is an extremely well written song:
Sharon O’Neill – “Maxine” (1983)
Note: There’s a much better quality video of “Maxine” available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfkemsBYsFU, but the person who uploaded it has disabled embedding. [Insert un-smiley face here.]