Just a quick observational post, if you will indulge me.

The Grammy Award for Best Male COUNTRY Vocal Performance in ARSH 1972 (for calendar year 1971) went to a RAP song.  An ugly, base, vulgar, stupid RAP (but I repeat myself).

There should have been a general strike.  All men of good will should have taken to the streets in protest.

You think I’m kidding?  Here it is.

In the same award-year (ARSH 1971), was this song, which wasn’t even nominated.  Now, I’m no huge John Denver fan, but this is a fine melody with some nice harmonies, and the lyrics are poetic and thoughtful.  Just give that young man a proper haircut, and we’re all good. But no.

I’m telling you, folks, the infiltration was deep and thorough and hyper-aggressive from about ARSH 1962.

 

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mamma, take me home
Country roads

All my memories, gather round her
Modest lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mamma, take me home
Country roads

I hear her voice in the morning hour she calls me
Radio reminds me of my home far away
Driving down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday