A simple question really
You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder - Look Sharp, Joe Jackson
In at least one previous post I have talked about my teenage and off and on continuing affinity for all things Joe Jackson. Well, I was getting the youngest dressed for his annual Christmas picture with his brother and I said that he looked sharp. He asked what it meant to look sharp and I told him it meant handsome and then I started to sing the refrain to the song Look Sharp by Joe Jackson. After I was done with that he had a quizzical expression on his face and, in response to the song, asked "Why, Daddy?"
Why indeed.
I remember watching a special on the Moody Blues on PBS a while ago where they lamented that people looked to them for answers because they were asking questions. Questions that were profound, relevant, and that struck a chord with the people that listened to their music. Such was their lament that they actually wrote a song about it proclaiming that they were just musicians and their spokesman (i.e. lead singer) was just a singer in a rock and roll band.
Statements without foundation. Questions with no answers. Such is life apart from the Genesis of Art Itself.
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder - Look Sharp, Joe Jackson
In at least one previous post I have talked about my teenage and off and on continuing affinity for all things Joe Jackson. Well, I was getting the youngest dressed for his annual Christmas picture with his brother and I said that he looked sharp. He asked what it meant to look sharp and I told him it meant handsome and then I started to sing the refrain to the song Look Sharp by Joe Jackson. After I was done with that he had a quizzical expression on his face and, in response to the song, asked "Why, Daddy?"
Why indeed.
I remember watching a special on the Moody Blues on PBS a while ago where they lamented that people looked to them for answers because they were asking questions. Questions that were profound, relevant, and that struck a chord with the people that listened to their music. Such was their lament that they actually wrote a song about it proclaiming that they were just musicians and their spokesman (i.e. lead singer) was just a singer in a rock and roll band.
Statements without foundation. Questions with no answers. Such is life apart from the Genesis of Art Itself.
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