[update: Brenda Russell wrote this, not DS! But she did think it was good enough to rerecord it! Blech!]
Let me start by saying that I respected Donna Summer’s songwriting ability immensely. She wrote some of the best songs that defined the era of disco. Excellent. While driving today and listening to Sylvester radio on google play music, I heard this song for the first time. It had to be the first time, as I reacted with disdain from the moment she started to sing.
I am used to symbolic poetry-based songs, as I am a product of the 80s- the songs weren’t limited to sex, drinking or dancing. So I was ok with the title. Maybe it would have some type of symbolism? What I got from it was a suicide note.
I think the music also was… weird. It sounded like several songs mixed together and none fit well, melodically, with the others. Different keys, different styles. I am also from the school of music where you don’t have to follow the norms or patterns, but I do believe there should be some cohesion.
Yes, I used to write and record songs, and after hearing this one, I am considering putting my whole catalog out.
And just for the record, this song killed her career. Wikipedia states that it was her last top ten song. If you bought this without hearing it first, you would never buy another from her.
Oh, and I think I may have to explain to some people under the age of 30 how you could buy a song without hearing it. Back in the day, we had a limited number of artists that put out music. It was before the internet time. If it wasn’t an extremely popular artist, you had to get your information from an actual retail store that sold records. You would check the store periodically to see what new songs or albums were slated to be released. They would tell you, “oh, Donna Summer has a new album coming out, the first single is Dinner With Gershwin.” You would then tell them to hold one for you, as if it would sell out. The day it was released in the store, you would go to the register and ask for the single that you ordered, and they would judgementally ring up your purchase. You would then take it home, so excited that you got more music from her. You play it, and since it didn’t sound like “Bad Girls”, you hated it. You would play it a few more times and get used to it. Then, after several times more, it would become your favorite song that month. Until the disappointing album that you have on hold got in your grubby little hands.
Today, you can hear any song at any time. BEFORE you buy it.
So back to the teardown of this song.
After the initial disgust with the music and her lackluster vocals, I envisioned that she must have been high or depressed. Or high AND depressed. How does this even flow? Then, the start: “x with (a dead person)… want to get next to you”. Is the “you” she is referring to dead as well? How can this be considered romantic?
In the end this song made me angry. Here’s the video and lyrics:
Ok, since I hadn’t seen the video before I started writing this, I was copying the link from youtube and before the song even got 5 seconds in, I see that she was extremely thin, lazy eyes, and doing Jody Watley moves. Was this her attempting to remain relevant? To shrug off the disco stink?
Madonna ended up doing the same type of thing with dumb lyrics trying to appeal to younger people. It’s a business move, I get it.
But good grief! I couldn’t even finish watching the video. That transition…
[update: I forced myself to watch the video in its entirety, and was even more appalled. It’s like someone’s grandmother doing a hip thrust. She tried to feign “contemplating” stuff with her finger to her cheek, and it looked like a drunk karaoke night. Can’t blame that on the songwriter!]
Be forewarned that you cannot unhear/unsee this.
“Dinner With Gershwin”
I want to have dinner with Gershwin
I want to watch Rembrandt sketch
I want to talk theory with Curie
Impossible I guess
I want to talk moods with Picasso
On a rendezvous
I want to fly double with Earhart
I want to get next to you
Next to you
So close
Just as close as I can get
The rain of your worry
Can’t effect
What I feel is what I feel
One touch
Of your greatness
Is what I need
My circle of fantasy
Would be complete
I want to sing hymns with Mahalia
When the day is through
I want to tell you about it
I want to get next to you
Next to you
So close
Just as close as I can get
The rain of your worry
Can’t effect
What I feel is what I feel
One touch
Of your greatness
Is what I need
My circle of fantasy
Would be complete
So close
Just as close as I can get
The rain of your worries
Can’t effect
What I feel is what I feel
One touch
Of your greatness
Is what I need
My circle of fantasy
Would be complete
I want to have dinner with Gershwin
I want to watch Rembrandt sketch
I want to talk theory with Curie
Impossible I guess…