3 decades of rock, in convenient bite-sized pieces

4.10.2006

#86 - Dyin' Ain't Much of a Livin'

Artist: Jon Bon Jovi
Album: Blaze of Glory
Other Versions: None
Era: N/A

Lyrics

This is a Hell of a composition. This intro is sweeping and epic and simply gorgeous. You know you're in for something deeply emotional, something that's going to stick with you, something that might make you cry.

Then that first line, that "A whiskey bottle comforts me, and tells me not to cry" in Jon's low, husky voice. That voice, it's beautiful. That is melancholy, like someone discovered the liquid essence of quiet, resigned depression, bottled it, and made Jon drink it until he couldn't drink any more. It's in the instruments and the lyrics and Jon's motherfucking voice.

"While a full moon says a prayer for me, I try to close my eyes." I defy you to find me a better set of lines to capture that kind of hopeless depression that keeps you up at night, trying to find something inside you that can believe things will get better even though you know damn well that part of you doesn't exist.

The second part of that verse, about how the night reminds him of everyone who died so young, how their ghosts surround him as he finally sleeps, that's beautiful. Simply fucking heartbreaking beauty.

There is so much passion in this chorus. Jon's voice just KILLS, and that guitar underscoring him is striking. "Is it too late to ask for forgiveness for the things that I have done?" makes me want to just reach into the movie and give Billy a hug and cry with him and tell him "no, Billy, it's not". But I can't do that and it makes me sad.

The part that really kills me (because the depression and the weeping and the desire to break the boundaries of reality wasn't actually killing me) is near the end, when Jon shouts "PRAY FOR ME" and then there's that fucking powerful chorus. I will, oh sweet fuck, I will pray for you Billy the Kid.

This song captures pain so beautifully, it makes me not care that it's pain. It's too beautiful to be a bad thing even as I know it's suffering and misery and utter despair.

My Rating: 10/10

Mmmm, unreleased goodness:
  • Fields of Fire
  • Hush
And two things

1. A commenter asked about me doing dvd reviews. I've actually been thinking about doing some for a while now. Thing is, I wouldn't do a conventional review. What I'll do, if I post a dvd review, is watch it, write down whatever pops in my head as I'm watching, and post it without rereading or editing. 90% of my comments will be "do you think David told his fashion consultant 'I want to look like my goal is to suck 300 dicks by the end of the night' and she found that outfit, or did he pick that out on his own?" kind of things. But yes, in the near future you will see reviews of the dvds I have.

2. I had a really stupid thought earlier. You might get as much of a chuckle out of it as I did.

So I've figured out what's going on with Heather and Richie. One night, they looked at each other and were like "you know, we are way too hot to be married to each other. It isn't fair to everyone else." So they decided to divorce. And Richie got naked pictures from that birdy-looking woman and Heather boinked David Spade as a service to all the average-and-below people out there, so they suddenly had hope that they could boink someone on the Sambora/Locklear hot level.

I've figured out their terrible secret!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

HUSH - sweet jesus, it has to be hush. Dyin' Ain't Much of a Livin' is just gorgeous - I cry every freaking time. And I look forward to seeing your DVD reviews. Even if they are comments on the ridiculous fashion choices. ;)

Hector Rashbaum said...

Richie has immense hotness potential that for some reason only shows about 10% of the time. That 10% I totally see what everyone else says about him. I just don't like it enough to put up with the other 90%.

Anonymous said...

*read the above Hector's comment* Hmm..
Fields of Fire..

Anonymous said...

Hush ... when Jon says "I like it when she calls me baby" it does some strange things to me.