Pop Goes My Subject

My favorite Christmas album is Pop Goes The World by Men Without Hats. It's not really a Christmas album, but I played it for the first time right around Christmas, and it sounds like yuletime magic to me.

I may be dating myself, but the first recording I ever had of Pop Goes the World was one copied onto a cassette. I was 12, and spending the night at a friend's house. I won't reveal her name, for reasons you will understand soon. Let's call her "Dawn." Dawn lived right across the street from our middle school, in a powder pink stucco house. She had posters of Charlie Chaplin and Marilyn Monroe in her bedroom. I remember thinking she was a little weird for having a poster of a girl, because all my posters were of Wham and The Monkees. She was popular, though, and I was so thrilled that I had duped Dawn into thinking I could be one of her kind, I overlooked it.

I don't remember having dinner there, but after dinner time, Dawn's mom left for her nightshift nurse duty. I didn't know she would be gone, and therefore hadn't let my mom know, but I acted cool. We hung out in our pajamas in the living room, sitting on the hardwood floor, talking about boys, listening to Men Without Hats and The Violent Femmes. I tried to keep up with her New Wave music tastes, but it was foreign territory. She introduced me to "Blister in the Sun," for which we choreographed a dance involving a skateboard. "Add it Up" was the first time I had ever heard the "F" word in a song. I was thrilled. Was this my ticket to popularity? What would Dawn introduce next? She reached beneath the couch and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Her older sister emerged from her room, and didn't stop Dawn from lighting up. She wordlessly swiped a cig, and disappeared back into her space. Was this my first cigarette? Sadly, no, I couldn't hang. Mothers leaving for nightshifts? Cuss words? These were things I could handle. But I refused the cigarette, terrified that Dawn would ignore me the rest of the night. She didn't mind, though. We continued to talk about boys.

I wondered why Dawn's sister kept her mouth shut about these misdeeds. Turns out sister was even more of a miscreant, having stolen mom's car for joyrides. And she didn't steal the car from the driveway. Remember, the mom had a night job at the hospital. Sister would steal the car from her reserved spot at work, and return it before mom got off. Trouble is, during one of the joyrides, someone parked in the reserved spot before sister got back. She was pretty much in the doghouse for life, and Dawn was untouchable. She liked weird music, smoked, and had posters of old-time icons. Dawn was cool.

We didn't go on any joyrides, but Dawn did make copies of the Femmes and MWH's albums, one on each side. I went right home the next day to an empty house. I slipped the tape in the stereo, and blasted it. Jumping around my living room, I yelled along with the raging anthem. "Why can't I get... Just one..."

"Are you sure you want mom to hear this?" My brother asked. He was, luckily, the first one to come home. Wait, how did he know this song? Scared, I grabbed my new treasure and only listened that side of the tape in my room. I didn't hear the other side again until months later.

My parents and I were decorating the house for Christmas, and mom asked me to find some music. I turned on Pop Goes The World, and it was perfect. We switched out all of our window valances to reflect the mauve theme we had going on the tree. There were mauve ribbons, iridescent icicles, miles of clear beads, glass globes, and white twinkling lights. It looked like a big pink bubble bath to me, and I was ecstatic to have a theme tree. And the album was the perfect ethereal companion to that scene. There is a lovely emotional arc, and a cast of Man, Woman, and Child. Well, I thought it was lovely. My mom jumped out of her skin every time the quiet, saccharine ballads would dive into the thumping pop tunes. And that made it perfect, too. There is something to be said for the tween soundtrack to pissing your mom off.

Originally, I was going to write a review of this 21-year old album, and we've gone in a different direction. Instead, I will sign off, challenging you to listen to this album as you decorate your tree, or wrap presents with a loved one. Whether it be your boyfriend, pet, or mom, those marathon holiday tasks are nicely adorned with this heavenly piece of music.