Anyone who's a regular reader of my journal will know I'm a big fan of Bon Jovi. I don't really care who thinks they're past it, dad-rock, whatever: I see each new album as being consistently excellent, and the guys only seem to improve with age in my eyes. Sure, they've been going now for over thirty years, but so have a lot of other bands, some of whom fail to maintain the high quality of work as they edge towards their third decade that Bon Jovi do. I don't think there's any one album I can point to and say it's not up to scratch, compared to the rest of their catalogue... oh wait, there is. I forgot “7800 degrees Fahrenheit”, which is generally accepted to be their weakest album.
But that aside, they've continued to turn out opuses (opi?) every few years, and notwithstanding the foregoing, I've yet to be disappointed by a Bon Jovi album. I think that Jon and Richie's songwriting talent is not given the credit it's due: look at songs like “Wanted dead or alive”, “Right side of wrong”, “Just older” or the powerful “Living in sin”. These are great rock songs, great compositions and show a deep and meaningful understanding of the human condition, and what makes us the people we are.
Well, enough preaching. If you hate Bon Jovi this is unlikely to convince you, and if you like or love them then you already know what I'm talking about. This particular song I want to concentrate on here comes from the 2005 album “Have a nice day” and is one of the few on which Richie Sambora does not contribute: in fact, it's co-written by Jon with Billy Falcon, with whom the band began working back in 2000, and who has participated in some tracks on both “Crush” and “Bounce” before this, and “Lost highway” and “The Circle” after it. It's the story of the deterioration both in music and in its appreciation, and so it's aimed both at the industry and the bands --- well, some of them --- who milk it for the money and have no real love, or indeed talent, for music.
Last man standing (Bon Jovi) from “Have a nice day”, 2005
Music and lyrics by Jon Bon Jovi and Billy Falcon
It's really cleverly set, with the protagonist, the eponymous Last Man Standing, presented as a type of fairground attraction, something you might find in one of those old carnival freak shows. The hook is that he really plays music, he doesn't just mime. Patrons are invited by Jon to
”Come see a living, breathing spectacle/ Only seen right here” as he sneers at the current music fads and declares
”So keep your pseudo-punk, hip-hop, pop-rock junk/ And your digital downloads!”
It's almost prophetic, as we move further into an age where, more and more, style wins out over substance, and people are more concerned with the danceability of a song than its lyrical content, or how it's actually played. With ipods, YouTube and the like now, people are more likely to grab the tracks they like from an album or artiste, and not sit down and take the time to listen through to an album all the way, in the process quite possibly missing some really good music. I'm as guilty of this as other people, although I do try to make time to listen to albums as well as playlists. But with music increasingly dominated by synthesisers, loops and samples, this song warns that the day of the humble guitarist, and indeed the singer/songwriter, may be numbered. Let's make sure it isn't.
Come see a living, breathing spectacle
Only seen right here.
It's your last chance in this lifetime:
The line forms at the rear.
You won't believe your eyes,
Your eyes will not believe your ears!
Get your money out, get ready,
Step right up, yeah you, c'mere!
You ain't seen nothing like him:
He's the last one of the breed.
You better hold on to your honey:
Honeys, don't forget to breathe!
Enter at your own risk, mister
It might change the way you think:
There's no dancers, there's no diamonds;
No this boy don't lip-synch.
Here's the last man standing!
Step right up, he's the real thing!
The last chance of a lifetime
To come and see, hear, feel the real thing.
See those real live calloused fingers
Wrapped around those guitar strings;
Kiss the lips where hurt has lingered:
It breaks your heart to hear him sing.
The songs were more than music, they were pictures from the soul ---
So keep your pseudo-punk, hip-hop, pop-rock junk
And your digital downloads!
Here's the last man standing!
Step right up, he's the real thing!
The last chance of a lifetime
To come and see, hear, feel the real thing.
Take your seats now, folks, it's show time.
Hey, Patrick --- hit the lights.
There's something in the air:
There's magic in the night.
Now here's the band, they really play;
I'll count the first one in.
I don't know where it's going,
We all know where it's been.”