Angst me no questions
While cruising on I-79 the other day, trapped in a mass of tailgating drivers doing 20 mph over the speed limit, meaning one misstep could cause a fatal crash, I had a thought: “Why does no one write ‘tragic teens’ songs anymore?”
To some this might seem an inductive leap, but it won’t to anyone who grew up in the ’50s and ’60s. Back then AM radio was awash in maudlin, depressing tunes about star-crossed lovers killed in vehicle crashes.
Perhaps the most famous of them is “Tell Laura I Love Her,” by Ray Peterson. Summarized, the song tells the story of teen lovers Laura and Tommy. Tommy wants to buy Laura a wedding ring but can’t afford one. He sees a sign for a stock-car race offering $1,000 to the winner. Tommy enters the race.
Long story short, Tommy’s car overturns and burns. When they pull him from the “twisted wreck,” he somehow manages — “with his dying breath” — to come up with a poem: “Tell Laura I love her. Tell Laura I need her. Tell Laura not to cry. My love for her will never die.”
“Teen Angel,” a No. 1 hit by Mark Dinning, spurred “Tell Laura I Love Her.” In this one, an unnamed teen couple goes for a drive. Their car stalls on railroad tracks. The boy pulls the girl out safely, but she runs back for … his high school ring. Train crushes the car. And the girl. And the boy’s hopes and dreams. He weeps: “Just sweet 16, and now you’re gone. They’ve taken you away. I’ll never kiss your lips again. They buried you today.”
Burma Shave!
But wait! A man crying? Did he skip his testosterone treatments? This just won’t work in today’s world. We have to do a modern rewrite: Boy becomes lawyer, sues railroad for $185 million, wins and becomes the host of a reality TV show.
Here are a couple of other modern spins on the teen-tragedy theme:
“Leader of the Pack,” by the Shangri-Las, tells a tragic story from a female point of view. Betty loves Jimmy, a motorcycle dude who everyone thinks is an outlaw. But she knows he’s really just sad. Her dad says, “Find someone new.” Betty tearfully breaks up with Jimmy on a rainy night. He roars away on his motorcycle (apparently equipped with bald tires) but gets just far enough for Betty to see him crash. Skidding and crash sounds are heard on the record, along with Betty’s frantic warning: “Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!”
We assume two things: 1.) Jimmy is dead. 2.) Jimmy couldn’t hear Betty’s shouts over the rumble of his exhaust pipes.
Modern rewrite: Jimmy hears Betty but skids into an Amazon Prime truck making an illegal U-turn. Ten months later, Jimmy is still waiting for his medical insurance claim to be approved.
“Endless Sleep” by Jody Reynolds starts out with catastrophe looming but actually has a happy ending. The unnamed narrator begins the song on a rainy night (of course), lamenting that his baby disappeared — “Why did we quarrel? Why did we fight? Why did I leave her alone tonight?” But he “traced her footsteps down to the shore.” There, an anthropomorphized sea (speaking as if it were Yoda) taunts him: “I took your baby from you away.”
Then our hero hears another voice, his baby’s, saying, “Come join me, baby, in my endless sleep.” The stage is set for tragedy. But, surprisingly, our hero dives into the sea and saves the floundering girl. The sea is nonplussed: “You took your baby from me away!” Then they supposedly walk home, dripping wet, to watch “American Bandstand.”
Modern rewrite: The reunited but disaffected couple appears on the reality TV show starring the boy from “Teen Angel.” The sea (Morgan Freeman) is a surprise guest.
Someone throws a chair at him.