In “Criminal Records”, the Girlfriend and I discuss songs featuring criminal activity. This week: “A Good Idea” by Bob Mould’s Sugar, from the classic early 90s album “Copper Blue”. I heartily recommend this album to all fans of indie rock (along with, from the same period, his mini-album Beaster). The guy was on fire back then. Okay, enough from me. I’ll now hand you over to me...Me: This song is a rock version of that old genre, the murder ballad. It starts off, “We walked down to the river, on a warm summer’s night/the air was thick/ with the smell of temptation. The GF: (swigging wine) They were going to have sex?Me: Probably.The GF: What is the crime here? Lust? Lusting after each other. There’s no crime in this at all. I didn’t hear anything.Me: Some witness you’d be! The GF: Where was the crime?Me: Seriously?The GF: Yeah!Me: Listen. “He held her down in the water.”The GF: If he held her, that’s okay. If he dropped her, she’d fall down. Me: What, you think he’s just washing her hair?The GF: (swigs from wine glass, departs on a stream of consciousness) Didn’t John The Baptist wash somebody’s hair? Didn’t he wash Jesus’ hair?Me: No, he didn’t wash Jesus’ hair. They weren’t lovers. He baptised him. Mary Magdalene washed his feet, if that’s what you meant.The GF: That’s what I meant.Me: It’s an easy mistake to make. Back to the song. He said “why don’t we lay down in the water/let the water run over me/and she grinned and she said/ that’s a good idea”.The GF: Very agreeable, she was.Me: “In a river of mud, wash away those tears.”The GF: How could mud wash away tears? It’d just dirty your face, wouldn’t it?Me: You’re trying my patience, woman. Here’s the crime: “He held her down, deep in the stream...he saw the bubbles and matted hair mixed with the seaweed/ and she started to scream...It’s a good idea” The GF: How could that be a murder if she’s agreeing to it, saying it’s a good idea?Me: (stunned) Fuck. You're right. So, what is it then?The GF: It’s like euthanasia.Me: Assisted suicide?The GF: Yeah. Me: Would you like to go out like that?The GF: No. Think of the wrinkles from the water.Me: That’d be the least of your worries. At the end, he says “sometimes I see you in the water at night.”The GF: The lady in the lake. A wrinkly prune of a ghost appears to him. Bit of a mad song, isn’t it? Who is this?Me: Bob Mould. American indie rocker. Gay fella.The GF: Just as well if that’s the way he treats girls. Is this his idea of a night out? Taking a girl down to the river for a duck. Then again, gay fellas know how to take care of their looks. Maybe he was washing her hair. And giving her a mud pack.Me: You’re saying it's more of a beauty therapy ballad?The GF: Yeah. (swigs the last of her wine) You know, they say that when you die, your skin gets better. All the toxins leave you. You look great. It takes twenty years off you....In other news, you'll be glad to hear that the GF and I are on strike all next week, in Morocco. (Well, it beats sitting at your computer reading MOG in silence!) See you in 10 days!
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