80s Music Video Sunday #10

In previous posts, I've mentioned how interesting I find it when certain songs or artists are immensely popular on one side of the Atlantic, while that same artist has, for whatever reason, not achieved any level of status whatsoever on the other side of the ocean. While this is often true for songs sung in English, I would hasten to guess that it would be even more accurate with regard to songs sung in other languages. While the times may be changing (especially with regard to Spanish-language music, which has always maintained a certain degree of popularity in regions with high numbers of Spanish speakers like South Florida, parts of Southern California, New York City, parts of Texas, and so on), Americans have generally shown little interest in songs not sung in English. Some artists have even recorded two (or more) versions of certain songs – one in their native language and one in English, most likely to help them break into the American market. I'll be profiling at least two of them in the future, so the only clue I'll give you now about these artists is that the non-English versions of their songs are in German.

Today's song is different. As far as I know, there is no English-language version, and I don't remember ever hearing it while growing up in the US. Recorded in 1988, it was terribly popular here in Israel, and given that the song is in French, I'm guessing that it was quite popular throughout much of Europe. The artist who recorded today's song began her ascent to stardom as a teenager in the early sixties in France. In 1965, our young artist, representing Luxembourg, took first place in the Eurovision song contest with the catchy tune "Poupée de cire, poupée de son" and the video of that performance can be found here. Many Israelis tend to become rather giddy when it comes to Eurovision, waxing nostalgically about previous competitions and entries from Israel and abroad, and it was thanks to one of the many Eurovision-related television productions that I discovered "Poupée de cire, poupée de son", and thanks to a bit of detective work, I succeeded in uncovering the connection between that song and today's song, which all Israelis of a certain age seem to be quite fond of. Being of that same age, I took an immediate liking to the song, and its video has been bookmarked on my computer for some time now. So now, without further ado, I present you with today's 80s music video, recorded by France Gall, as a tribute to Ella Fitzgerald.

Ella, elle l'a
France Gall (Music and lyrics by Michel Berger)

C'est comme une gaieté
Comme un sourire
Quelque chose dans la voix
Qui paraît nous dire "viens"
Qui nous fait sentir étrangement bien
C'est comme toute l'histoire
Du peuple noir
Qui se balance
Entre l'amour et l'désespoir
Quelque chose qui danse en toi
Si tu l'as, tu l'as
Ella, elle l'a
Ce je n'sais quoi
Que d'autres n'ont pas
Qui nous met dans un drôle d'état
Ella, elle l'a Ella, elle l'a Ou ou ou ou ou ou ou
Elle a, ou ou ou ou ou ou ou, cette drôle de voix
Elle a, ou ou ou ou ou ou ou, cette drôle de joie
Ce donne du ciel qui la rend belle
Ella, elle l'a Ella, elle l'a
Elle a, ou ou ou ou ou ou ou
Ella, elle l'a Elle a, ou ou ou ou ou ou ou
Elle a ce tout petit supplément d'âme
Cet indéfinissable charme
Cette petite flamme
Tape sur des tonneaux
Sur des pianos
Sur tout ce que dieu peut te mettre entre les mains
Montre ton rire ou ton chagrin
Mais que tu n'aies rien, que tu sois roi
Que tu cherches encore les pouvoirs qui dorment en toi
Tu vois ça ne s'achète pas
Quand tu l'as tu l'as
Ella, elle l'a
Ce je n'sais quoi
Que d'autres n'ont pas
Qui nous met dans un drôle d'état
Ella, elle l'a Ella, elle l'a ...

And in English (albeit unofficial, courtesy of The Honorable)

Ella, Elle L'a - Ella, She Has It

It's like a joyfulness
like a smile
something in the voice
that seems to tell us, "Come,"
that makes us feels curiously well

It's like the entire history
of the black nation
that teeters
between love and despair;
something that dances within you
If you have it, you have it

Ella, she has it
What, I don't quite know
Something that others don't have,
that puts us in a funny state
Ella, she has it
Ella, she has it
Ou-ou ou-ou ou-ou ou
She has, ou-ou ou-ou ou-ou ou, this funny voice
She has, ou-ou ou-ou ou-ou ou, this funny joy
this gift from the sky that makes her beautiful

Ella, she has it
Ella, she has it
She has, ou-ou ou-ou ou-ou ou
Ella, she has it
She has, ou-ou ou-ou ou-ou ou

She has this little flicker of spirit
this undefinable charm
this tiny flame

Bang on drums
on pianos
on anything that God can put between your hands
Show your laughter or your sorrow
May you own nothing, may you be king
may you still search for the powers that sleep within you
You see that that cannot be bought
When you have it, you have it

Ella, she has it
What, I don't quite know
Something that others don't have
That puts us in a funny state
Ella, she has it
Ella, she has it...

A contract with myself...

I've been tagged by Beth to make a contract with myself about writing. When I noticed that she'd tagged me, I was really hoping that she was referring to a different Liza, because I knew that writing such a contract would force me to think about issues I prefer to keep safely tucked at the back of my mind instead of at the forefront, where I'd feel pressured to take a plunge that, to some extent, scares me. Anyway, my contract is as follows...

"I, Liza R, pledge to be the best writer that I can be. I promise to do my best
to believe in myself, my talent, and the compliments and kind words of those who
believe in me (none of which comes easily). I will do my best to accept the
possibility that my writing is as good as people keep saying it is, and will try
not to doubt myself so much. I will work harder to take my writing to new levels
and wider audiences, asking for help when necessary. I will make serious
attempts to market my work, and do my best to create opportunities in pursuit of
my dream to be a "real" writer. I will continue to use my skills to help others,
and will continue to use my writing to promote ideas and issues about which I am
passionate. I will do my best to rise to any writing challenges placed before
me, and will try not to let self-doubt get in the way of facing such
challenges."

Beth, I hope you don't mind that I added your bit about asking for help. It's definitely not my strong suit either, as I noted in your comments section.

Now I'm tagging Rami, Lisa, Stefanella, Allison and anyone else who fancies him/herself to be a writer.

An eggstra special conviction

In an entry that I wrote back in September 2005, I briefly described the long, painful journey we took in order to bring our son into the world. I won't rehash it all now, but I will tell you that one of the paths we chose involved three failed rounds of egg donation treatment. Legislation in Israel regarding egg donation is changing, and to be honest, I'm not sure where things stand these days. When we elected to go down that road several years ago, however, the laws stated that only women who were undergoing fertility treatment could donate eggs. There were no donor banks like those that exist for sperm donation, and women who were not undergoing fertility treatment themselves could not volunteer to donate eggs. As a result of these policies, there was a shortage of donated eggs. Understandably, many women undergoing treatment found it difficult to give up something that had taken so much to obtain, and I didn't blame them for wanting to do the maximum ensure success, for not wanting to sacrifice the few chances they had.

There were other issues as well. I wondered about the quality of the eggs being donated, given that they were coming from women who were themselves having trouble conceiving, a problem that can stem from a multitude of factors, whether they be age-related, genetic, or simply a question of the woman's ability to produce good-quality ova. I also wondered how donors and recipients were matched, as I naively wanted a donor who had similar physical features to ours. We continued to make the rounds of various specialists to discuss our options, and while I don't remember much of what was said, the one thing I do remember is that the waiting list for receiving donated eggs was very long, and it could take more than a year until we reached the top of the list.

And then in 2000, the scandal broke. A senior gynecologist and fertility specialist was accused of giving several of his patients who were undergoing fertility treatment dangerously high doses of hormones so that they would produce very large amounts of eggs. Each of the women had previously agreed to donate some of their eggs, and the doctor was accused of harvesting the eggs in order to sell them to other infertile women. Needless to say, the (already low) number of women who were prepared to donate eggs plummeted, while demand for such eggs did not. Many Israeli fertility clinics halted egg donation procedures in the wake of the scandal, and any remaining thoughts we had of having the procedure performed in Israel via our health maintenance fund disappeared. There were almost no eggs available, nor would there be any available in the foreseeable future. This one doctor and his cohorts had single-handedly destroyed the egg donation option in Israel. Women had previously considered donating their eggs were no longer interested, terrified by the knowledge that an unscrupulous doctor had endangered the health and the lives of his patients undergoing the same procedure.

We went through two egg donation cycles abroad – one in London and one in Madrid. We considered cycling in the US, but the costs and the logistics were prohibitive, and we discovered that we could work with top-rated European clinics for much less than the cost of average US clinics. Each treatment cycle required two trips to Europe, not to mention the incredible amount of work that was necessary to coordinate schedules, reproductive cycles, flights (including one flight to Madrid on three days' notice) and accommodations. Research of the various medications was also required, in order to ensure that I would be able to purchase in Israel the drugs that were being prescribed in Europe. Time off had to be arranged from work – sometimes on very short notice.

And in the end, both cycles failed. We managed to do a third cycle in Israel that involved sending sperm to Romania to fertilize eggs provided by an anonymous Romanian donor, then having the fertilized eggs frozen and flown back to Israel for transfer. While legal, it was still rather murky, and involved quite a bit of hassle with our HMO, as we would have to pay out of our own pockets, but they might be willing to reimburse for part of the amount. The Romanian option came as a solution for women who for one reason or another could not seek out private treatment abroad as we had done. There were several similar options involving Romania, Poland, and Greece (and probably other countries where legislation is vague and treatment is inexpensive), and many of them involved some level of partnership and cooperation between fertility specialists in Israel and the foreign clinics. Some involved one or both partners flying abroad, others involved only the transfer of frozen sperm and fertilized ova between the two countries (as we had done). An entire industry was cropping up to fill the great hole that was created primarily as a result of the scandal in 2000.

I believe that Israeli legislation is being changed in order to allow any woman to donate eggs. Passing such a law would be a positive step that will allow great numbers of Israeli women to pursue dreams of creating a family, filling a painful void that cannot possibly be fully understood by someone who has never been in that situation. In the meantime, I felt great satisfaction this morning when I read this article. Seven years after the scandal first broke, Dr. Zion Ben-Raphael has been convicted by a Health Ministry disciplinary panel of "conduct unbecoming a doctor and violating patients rights laws", and will hopefully be appropriately punished for his actions. I'm not sure what punishment would be considered sufficient in light of all the damage he caused – damage to the credibility of an entire industry, and damage to the hopes of thousands of Israeli women in need of donor eggs, but punishment for the guilty parties coupled with an increased level of public awareness and changes to existing legislation will hopefully create an environment where the obstacles along the often painful journey to parenthood can be minimized as much as possible, no matter what kind of treatment is needed in order to complete the journey.

80s Music Video Sunday #9

For many people of my generation, the 1980s were synonymous with the term "Brat Pack". Our teenage years were defined by such John Hughes classics like "The Breakfast Club", "Sixteen Candles", and "Pretty in Pink". Members of the Brat Pack were our cultural icons, from Andrew McCarthy to Ally Sheedy, from Rob Lowe to Jon Cryer, we emulated their styles and adopted their vocabulary, we identified with their trials and tribulations, and cheered when Molly Ringwald got the guy.

In addition to the angst-ridden movies themselves, these screen gems produced a myriad of classic songs, including hits from the Psychedelic Furs, OMD, Modern English, and so on. Without a doubt though, the song that most symbolizes the Brat Pack genre of movies would have to be "Don't you Forget about Me", by Scottish rock band Simple Minds – the theme song from "The Breakfast Club". Just hearing it takes me back to the first time I saw that movie. If I remember correctly, it was rated "R", which means restricted to those age 17 and over, and we wondered whether the theater would allow us entry, as we were mix of American and foreign exchange students – all underage. So long ago. I believe that move theater isn't even there anymore, which is a shame, given how many memories it holds.

Anyway, in the spirit of the Brat Pack, before we get to today's video, pop on over to the Brat Pack site and find out which Brat Packer you are. As you can see below, I'm Samantha...

Take the Which Character Am I? Quiz




Don't You Forget About Me
Simple Minds

Won't you come see about me
I'll be alone, dancing --- you know it Baby
Tell me your troubles and doubts
Giving me everything inside and out
Love's strange --- so real in the dark
Think of the tender things
That we were working on
Slow change may pull us apart
When the light gets into your heart, Baby

Don't you forget about me
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't you forget about me
Will you stand above me
Look my way, never love me
Rain keeps falling
Rain keeps falling
Down, down, down
Will you recognize me
Call my name or walk on by
Rain keeps falling
Rain keeps falling
Down, down, down

Don't you try and pretend
It's my beginning
We'll win in the end
I won't harm you
Or touch your defenses
Vanity, insecurity

Don't you forget about me
I'll be alone, dancing --- you know it, Baby
Going to take you apart
I'll put us back together at heart, Baby
Don't you forget about me
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't you forget about me

As you walk on by
Will you call my name
As you walk on by
Will you call my name
When you walk away

Oh, will you walk away
Will walk away
Oh, call my name
Will you call my name

What kind of republic are we?

Until recently, I was under the impression that Israel was something of a banana republic, but it appears I was off the mark. Sure, the term that comes to mind these days can potentially resemble a banana (if one stretches their imagination just a little...) in shape, but that's where the similarity ends, I'm afraid. With all the excitement generated by our temporarily incapacitated president and our former justice minister, it would seem that Israel has turned into something far more sinister than a banana republic – we are now officially a penile republic.

Following the news these days is like passing a car accident on the highway – you don't want to look, you know it's going to be horrible, but you just can't help yourself. Between the president's frightening display of emotion during his press conference last week to Haim Ramon being found guilty of indecent behavior yesterday, the usual disregard and contempt for the law that many of our politicians show on a regular basis has taken on a far more disgusting quality. Seriously, what is it with these men in power? Given the increasing levels of public awareness regarding sexual harassment issues, it is utterly shocking that these individuals and others of their ilk have the audacity to behave as they do. I'm not even going to address the alleged "misdeeds" of the president – I wouldn't know where to begin, and they have been covered ad nauseum everywhere else. I will say that I was disappointed that he resorted to the race card, insinuating that one of the primary reasons that he was being "targeted" was due to his background as a Persian immigrant, which was a pathetic attempt to downplay the incredibly grave charges made against him.

And then there is the case of Haim Ramon, Israel's former Justice Minister. I was never a big fan of his before this whole episode came to light, and needless to say, I now find him revolting. I still haven't decided what I think about this whole trial, but words escape me when I hear what he has to say about the incident at hand. The only thing that keeps running through my mind is, "he should know better". He should know better than to perpetrate such an act. He should know enough to control himself. He should know better than to make lecherous advances on a young woman less than half his age, especially given his position as a politician (justice minister, no less!) and hers as a soldier. He should know better, given that he appears to be in a committed relationship with another woman (why she's chosen to stay with him is beyond me). And now let's play devil's advocate for a second. Let's say that there is a tiny kernel of truth in his version, and that the young woman in question was, as he put it, "flirting", or that she was the instigator. He should have stopped it dead. He should have known that allowing it to continue was wrong. No matter what the circumstances surrounding the kiss, the point is that it should never have happened. It should never have been allowed to happen.

It is more than a little disturbing when a former justice minister opts for the "she wanted it" defense, when he allows his desires to cloud his judgment, and deludes himself into thinking that what he is doing is acceptable, when in fact nothing can be farther from the truth. With power comes responsibility, and as justice minister, it was Ramon's responsibility to ensure that he did not use the powers given to him to act inappropriately. He failed in that responsibility. He failed as a public figure and as a man. And for that, his deeds should not go unnoticed or unpunished. Precisely because of who he is and what he symbolizes, his case should be used an example. People must be made to realize that actions have consequences and that responsibility supersedes desire. Oh, and it doesn't matter what she's wearing, it doesn't matter if she's flirting. If she doesn't say yes, that means the answer is no. You'd think that in this day and age, that would already be understood, but clearly, if an Israeli justice minister, a president, various politicians, military personnel and other public figures here don't get it, we've still got a long way to go in getting the message out.

Old posts with new labels

This is a public service announcement.

Switching to the new version of Blogger has allowed me to label all of my posts, and I am in the process of labeling all old posts. However, it seems that with each administrative update, all RSS readers are picking up the feeds as new posts, even though the posts themselves haven't changed - only the labels are new. Until this process is complete (and it is very tedious and time-consuming), please note the date of the post at the top of each entry to verify that it's a new post and not one of the old posts with the new labels.

Thanks for your patience. Hopefully (but doubtfully), I'll get the labeling done fairly quickly.

80s Music Video Sunday #8

I've always found it interesting how some musicians can be so popular in Europe, yet remain almost unheard of in the US (and vice versa, I would imagine). I'm not referring to musicians who don't perform in English (and whose chances of succeeding in the US without singing in English are virtually nil), but rather those who do sing in English and are filling stadiums throughout Europe, Asia, Australia, etc, yet for some reason are unable to crack the American market (Robbie Williams comes to mind, though for the life of me, I can't understand why he hasn't made it in the US – face it, the man can sing and dance, and is rather easy on the eyes to boot).

And so it was, only three-and-a-half years ago, that I discovered one of Britain's more popular 80s bands, which, as far as I know, never made it big in the US. Husband and I (in our "pre-Little One" days) were in Europe for about a week. Aside from a weekend spent in Norway, the trip was primarily for business purposes, with one day spent in Holland and several days spent meeting business contacts around England. We rented a car to reach all of our far-flung meeting points, and got to see quite a bit of the beautiful English countryside, as well as a number of charming cities, villages and off-the-beaten-path attractions. We spent a lot of time in that little Ford Focus of ours, and the radio was always on. It was during one of the seemingly endless drives from point A to a distant point B when a certain song came on. And I was hooked. The song was by a band called The Housemartins, and even though the song was a cover, it was, simply put, amazing. I loved their voices, I loved their style. I had to have more.

We returned to Israel, and I got my hands on every song by The Housemartins that I could find. My pal Anglosaxy, ever the helpful Brit, introduced me to Beautiful South, the band formed by several members of the Housemartins, and their music became part of my growing repertoire as well. My favorite Housemartins song would have to be The Light is Always Green. For today's 80s Music Video Sunday, however, I've decided to go with the song that brought about my ongoing love affair with this incredibly talented group, since it's not only a beautiful song, but it also serves as a wake-up call regarding the current depressing status of the world we find ourselves living in, I think. A "make love not war" sentiment from my inner hippie chick, so to speak (thanks for reminding me, Maryam). Enjoy!



Caravan of Love
The Housemartins (original lyrics by Ernie Isley, Chris Jasper and Marvin Isley)

Are you ready
Are you ready
Are you ready
Are you ready
Are you ready for the time of your life
It's time to stand up and fight
S'alright
S'alright
Hand in hand we'll take a caravan to the marvel land
One by one we're gonna stand up with pride
One that can't be denied
Stand up
Stand up
From the highest mountain valley low
We'll join together with hearts of gold
Now the children of the world can see
This is a better place for us to be
The place in which we were born
So neglected and torn apart

Every woman every man
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
Stand up
Every body take a stand
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
Stand up
I'm your brother
I'm your brother don't you know
She's my sister
She's my sister don't you know

We'll be living in a world of peace
And the day when everyone is free
Bring the young and the old
Won't you let your love flow from your heart

Every woman every man
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
Stand up
Every body take a stand
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
Stand up

I'm your brother
I'm your brother don't you know
She's my sister
She's my sister don't you know

So are you ready (he's coming)
Are you ready (he's coming)
Are you ready (he's coming)
Are you ready (he's coming on the caravan)
You better get ready (go for it)
You better get ready (go for it)
You better get ready (go for it)
You better get ready

Open Sesame

Fortunately for me, my early childhood took place before big purple dinosaurs roamed the earth. My brother and I grew up on a diet of Mr. Rogers, the Electric Company, and Captain Kangaroo, among others. The unquestionable king of this genre was, of course, Sesame Street, where we learned our numbers in English and Spanish, we became intimately acquainted with the alphabet ("the sponsor of today's show is the letter 'L...'"), and discovered that people from different races, large birds, invisible elephants, and happily unkempt inhabitants of garbage cans could come together in harmonious diversity, teaching children that our differences should be embraced and celebrated. To this day, I have fond memories of Sesame Street, and admit that I felt a flutter in my heart upon seeing the Sesame Street display at the New York State Museum during our visit to the US last summer, containing sections of the original set, as well as explanations about the show's various rites of passage.

I tried to get the Little One interested in the current American version of Sesame Street when we were in the US, but he greatly preferred the numerous other shows being broadcast on PBS Kids and the Disney Channel. We do, however, have a few Sesame Street videos that we brought back with us, and he enjoys watching Baby Bear learn the alphabet (which includes the classic song shown below) and Ernie teaching the others how to count. It's not quite the same, though, and he'd much rather focus his attention elsewhere.



Therefore, you can imagine my joy at discovering that the Israeli version of this classic is now being broadcast on our local children's channel, not to mention my delight in seeing my son fall in love with this current local version just as I did more than thirty years ago. Rehov Sumsum (pronounced "soom-soom"), has captured my heart just as much as it has captured the heart of the Little One, and we snuggle together on the couch as we watch the antics of Arik and Bentz (the Hebraicized names given to Ernie and Bert) taken from the original American show, as well as the characters created especially for the Israeli version. They have continued with the tradition of diversity by including characters who are native-born Jews, native-born Arabs, and immigrants. Our favorite character is a trendy little muppet of Arab descent named Mahboob, who speaks mostly in Hebrew, but counts in Arabic and often teaches the others about different aspects of his culture.

I want my son to love his country and to be proud of his identity, and I also want him to understand and embrace the concept of diversity. I want him to realize that exposure to different cultures provides an opportunity to learn, whether it be the exotic cultures of distant lands or different cultures existing in Israel and the US. I want him to know that he has neighbors whose holidays are different from his own, and whose cultures are just as rich and beautiful as the one in which he is being brought up. Most of all, I want him to accept these people and their differences, and to know that different does not mean bad. And if it is spiky-haired, bespectacled Mahboob who teaches him such things, then so much the better. I know that life is not Sesame Street and Sesame Street is not real, but the lessons it offers my son are the lessons he will carry with him for a lifetime, just as the original Sesame Street did for his mother.

Moderating comments

Just a quick post to let you know that I've had to enable comment moderation. I'm hoping that this will be a temporary measure, so please bear with me for the time being.

80s Music Video Sunday #7

I'm still a bit sick and not feeling terribly creative, but it is Sunday, so 80s Music Video Sunday must be dealt with. I had a request from fellow blogger RR (and we are still in the process of establishing whether or not she and I are actually the same person, given the remarkable similarities in our personalities, tastes, etc…) for something American (or perhaps she was simply wondering when I would showcase something from the old country), so today's entry features a performer who, in my mind is about as American as they come. It actually came down to two performers who fit into this category, both of whom, I really, really enjoy. I've selected one of them, but the other one will surely be chosen at some point, as his songs are about as classic American rock and roll as they come...

I've always been an avid reader, which meant that a great deal of my youth was spent at our local public library. In addition to the wonderful selection of books, they also had a fabulous music collection, and it was from there that I borrowed my first Billy Joel album – Glass Houses, if memory serves me correctly. Like most of his albums, Glass Houses contained a number of hit songs, including "Just the Way You Are", "Honesty", and "You May Be Right". My absolute favorite song from that album, which was released in 1980, is the song that I've chosen for today. I can remember listening to it over and over again on the record player, repeatedly borrowing that album from the library. If you haven't guessed it by now, the classic hit I'm referring to is "It's Still Rock & Roll to Me". Enjoy!



It's Still Rock & Roll to Me
Billy Joel
(Lyrics courtesy of billyjoel.com)

What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?
"Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?"
Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?
"Welcome back to the age of jive
Where have you been hidin' out lately, honey?
You can't dress trashy till you spend a lot of money"
Everybody's talkin' 'bout the new sound
Funny, but it's still rock and roll to me

What's the matter with the car I'm driving?
"Can't you tell that it's out of style?"
Should I get a set of white wall tires?
"Are you gonna cruise a miracle mile?
Nowadays you can't be too sentimental
You best bet's a true baby blue Continental"
Hot funk, cool punk, even if it's old junk
It's still rock and roll to me

Oh, it doesn't matter what they say in the papers
'Cause it's always been the same old scene
There's a new band in town
But you can't get the sound from a story in a magazine...
Aimed at your average teen

How about a pair of pink sidewinders
And a bright orange pair of pants?
"You could really be a Beau Brummel baby
If you just give it half a chance
Don't waste your money on a new set of speakers
You get more mileage from a cheap pair of sneakers"
Next phase, new wave , dance craze, anyways
It's still rock and roll to me

What's the matter with the crowd I'm seeing?
"Don't you know that their out of touch?"
Should I try to be a straight 'A' student?
"If you are then you think too much
Don't you know about the new fashion honey?
All you need are looks and a whole lotta money"
It's the next phase, new wave , dance craze, anyways
It's still rock and roll to me
Everybody's talkin' 'bout the new sound
Funny, but it's still rock and roll to me