I love many kinds of music, but I’m primarily a rocker—I like swaggering, almost comically masculine hard rock. I want to bang my head, shake my fists, and rock out to thundering power chords and hypnotic bass lines. When I listen to rock, I feel like a panther taking flight on the wings of a phoenix.
But I also have a softness—a weakness, really—for late Fifties/early Sixties doo-wop and rock ‘n’ roll. Sometimes—perhaps, embarrassingly often—that love extends to female torch singers (I promise, I’m an allegedly heterosexual man).
Lately, I’ve had the 1962 tune “Johnny Get Angry” stuck in my head—constantly. Songwriters Hal David and Sherman Edwards wrote this bit of bubblegum pop for Joanie Sommers, and it was a modest hit for the songstress.
That 1962 version is pretty catchy, and the instrumentation is interesting—especially the kazoo chorus when the key changes from D major to E major—but the version that really got me into this song is from the 1990 film Nightbreed, specifically the Clive Barker-approved director’s cut. Other versions of the film apparently were missing the song—performed by actress Anne Bobby in the role of heroine/love interest Lori Winston—which is a travesty, as it’s really key to highlighting the struggle inherent in Lori and Boone’s relationship in the flick.
Just listen to this powerful vocal performance (and try to ignore the audience shifting from clapping on beats 1 and 3—lame!—to beats 2 and 4—good!):
The song also reveals something interesting about women in romantic relationships: girls want someone who will protect them and keep them in line.
Granted, not every woman wants that—at least, they’ll all say they don’t want the latter—and I’m definitely not the type to “keep them in line” (I assume—naively or otherwise—that the women I date respect me for who I am, which historically has not been the case, but is currently, Praise Be to God). But the whole song is like a sh*t-test for poor Johnny: the narrator dumps him “just to see what you would do”; she gets upset that he lets “Freddy cut in constantly”; and while she “loves you, of course,” she wants Johnny to show her that “you’re the boss.”
I sympathize with Johnny in this song—he sounds like a sweet, unassuming fellow. Of course, others—such as the song’s narrator—would probably say he’s a wimp (she complainingly asks “why must you be so meek?”). D’oh!
Besides the interesting sociosexual theme of the song (all the stuff we’re not supposed to notice or acknowledge anymore), this Nightbreed version is just great: the powerful vocals; the late 1980s band mimicking a group from the early 1960s; the arrhythmic hand claps.
In my quest to find different versions of this tune, I came across a few versions by k.d. lang & The Reclines; this one is indicative of her (!) approach to the song:
Be honest—how many of y’all thought that was just an 80s dude with a really high voice? Apparently, k.d. lang is a woman; not surprisingly, a lesbian, which explains why she looks like a twelve-year old boy.
I really enjoy the performance art style of lang’s version. It’s fun, and the pratfall and operatic vocal runs are hysterical.
Naturally, I’m going to have to sing this song—embarrassingly—to my buddy John Pickett one night at open mic, as my tribute to our friendship.
The Portly Politico 
Tyler, I have never met a woman who wants a man to keep her in line and most men attempting to do so will inevitably be met with failure. Also this works both ways, women who would like to keep a man in line will also doom a relationship. I have learned from my 64 years on the planet that both sexes require respect from the other but ‘keeping in line’? I am surprised that anyone would even use such a term in the early twentyfirst century.
To change the subject my current earworm is Ivor Bertie Gurney’s delightful setting of W B Yeats’s poem Down By The Salley Garden. It has been rattling round in my head for a couple of weeks now occasionally causing me to break out into what could be termed singing if one was being charitable.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Alys, I agree with you completely. I think that’s what I find so amusing about this song. I’ve also learned—thanks to love—that keeping someone “in line” is so no way to have a fruitful relationship with another person.
I’ll check out your earworm! It sounds lovely.
LikeLike
Cheers Tyler. 🙂
We like all sorts of music from practically every decade – classical, swing, bluegrass, alt electro (the last one more my preference than Tina’s). Unsurprisingly, though, our favourite genres are punk, heavy metal and thrash metal. The only sucky thing about it is I can’t head bang while I’m driving! Grrr!
There’s one tune that would rile the feminists; rocky, bouncy, interesting lyrics – The Mouth Don’t Stop by Fear. Check it out.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Cheers, Ponty! I’m a hard rock and heavy metal guy, too. I’ll definitely check out “The Mouth Don’t Stop.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
I must have waited too long to hit post – wordpress just made my comment disappear. It literally disappeared before my eyes. I don’t think wordpress likes me anymore – it absolutely hates me on NEO and now this!
LikeLiked by 2 people
WordPress absolutely hates me too. I can now ‘like’ on NEO but comments still just vanish into cyberspace. Very irksome.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I have to ‘like’ something twice – the first time I hit it, it disappears; then the second time I hit it, it registers. Driving me bonkers!!!! I hate it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That happens to me if I “like” a comment using the dropdown notification bell.
LikeLiked by 1 person
But I don’t – I just hit the star.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Maybe WordPress is limiting functionality on lower-end plans as a sneaky way to entice us into upgrading to better ones.
LikeLike
Heaven only knows, Port. It’s tough, tho, on the NEO site.
LikeLiked by 1 person
NEO definitely has some gremlins in the pudding, that’s for sure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yikes! At least your comments are showing up here without requiring my moderation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sorry, Audre. I don’t know what’s gotten into WordPress lately.
LikeLiked by 1 person