{"id":10163,"date":"2020-05-11T00:31:16","date_gmt":"2020-05-11T06:31:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jasonbennion.com\/?p=10163"},"modified":"2020-05-11T00:31:16","modified_gmt":"2020-05-11T06:31:16","slug":"a-song-that-makes-you-want-to-dance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.jasonbennion.com\/index.php\/2020\/05\/11\/a-song-that-makes-you-want-to-dance\/","title":{"rendered":"A Song That Makes You Want to Dance"},"content":{"rendered":"

30-Day Song C<\/strong>hallenge, Day 6: A Song That Makes You Want to Dance<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yeah, today’s choice is another Journey song but this one comes with a story<\/em>.<\/p>\n

About a year and a half ago, Anne and I were in New Orleans, walking down Royal Street in the French Quarter one fine morning. The day was bright but a bit chilly, and even though it wasn’t particularly early, there weren’t many people around. It was a Sunday, you see, and I like to imagine that most folks were nursing hangovers or in church, or maybe both. The street was slowly beginning to come to life as we strolled: shop owners were opening the shutters over their windows, a man in an apron was spraying the sidewalk with a hose (I probably don’t want to know what<\/em> he was hosing away), and a hulking garbage truck was creeping slowly down the narrow 18th-century cross streets.<\/p>\n

At one particular corner, we encountered a street musician, a pretty Asian woman playing the violin with skill and passion. (I’ve since learned that her name is Tanya Huang<\/a>, and she’s a regular fixture on that corner.) We stopped to listen and after a moment, I realized that I knew the song. It wasn’t a classical piece or jazz… it was Journey<\/em>. And well, cheesy as it sounds, I was moved by the moment and the location and the music, moved to take Anne’s hand and spin her around, then close in for some cheek-to-cheek. I even sang a bit to her, one of the lines I was certain I knew:<\/p>\n

“Lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be<\/p>\n

Oh, girl, you stand by me…<\/p>\n

I’m forever yours, faithfully… “<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I gave her a little dip, then suddenly felt sheepish because I realized we had an audience. Tanya was smiling at us as she played, and looking around, I saw a black man leaning against a door frame. When I caught his eye, he flashed me a huge grin and a nod. I nodded back at him, and for just a moment, I felt like I really got<\/em> New Orleans, and maybe I even belonged there. Like I caught the fleeting, flashing, silvery spirit of the place in my hand long enough to feel its heat before it flew away.<\/p>\n

That’s the sort of memory I’m always hoping to make when I travel, the kind that comes to define a place for you. I’ll be honest, our NOLA trip was a little bumpy for various reasons. But when I think of the place, my mind always goes to the moment I danced with my Anne in the middle of Royal Street to the melody of “Faithfully.”<\/p>\n

“Faithfully” was released in the spring of 1983, just as I was finishing eighth grade. At the time, I thought it was pretty boring, just a sappy ballad; I much preferred the angry rocking sounds of “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart),” the single that had preceded “Faithfully” by a couple of months. But the song made it to number 12 on the Billboard<\/em> charts in spite of my disdain, and I gradually came around on it. It’s become one of the band’s signature tunes and always leads to a sing-along and a lot of affectionate cuddling and swaying when they perform it live.<\/p>\n

The video is something of a classic as well, the first documentary-style “life on the road” clip, which was later imitated by bands ranging from Bon Jovi to Richard Marx. It’s become something a cliche now — oh, another band singing about how tough it is to be out touring — but this song and this video still work. It worked in New Orleans, anyhow…<\/p>\n