Booker T. and the MGs -- "Hip Hug Her"
In the mid-1990s, there was a bartender at the Replay Lounge, down at the corner of 10th and Massachusetts, who played this song every night. I was at a point, about to enter my mid-20s, directionless and free, before the responsibilities of adult life were to give me some grounding, give me a sense of direction but at the same time keep me fixed in place. I'd get off work and amble down the street to the bar. The air was thick inside. Smoke got in my eyes, in my hair, in my clothes, embedded itself in my lungs, and I'd have a couple cans of PBR, take a good look around me, knowing that this wasn't going to last forever, then figure out my way back home. Get up in the morning, do it all over again.
I don't have that sense of freedom anymore, but I gave it up willingly. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about those days. It seems like a long time ago now. I haven't said much about the song, but more than just about any other track I can think of, this one pins me down to a specific moment in my past. This song is not of my own cultural and historical moment -- it was recorded before I was born -- but it might as well have been of my moment. It's part of my sense of time now.
No comments:
Post a Comment