Rock-car affair stalls
Dude, where’s my car song?
While you were electronically adjusting your side-view mirrors or being guided by GPS or reading the external temperature gauge or something, a curious thing happened in rock: The car-song trend sputtered and lurched and finally went kaput.
According to the diagnostics, those revving automobile engines – the inspiration for countless rock songs, from the Cadillac-Ford race of Chuck Berry’s classic “Maybellene” to Bruce Springsteen’s rhapsody about “a ’69 Chevy with a 396/Fuelie heads and a Hurst on the floor” in “Racing in the Street” – have gone silent.
“They ain’t writin’ car songs no more,” laments Paul Grushkin, author of “Rockin’ Down the Highway: The Cars and People That Made Rock Roll.”
“They ran their course; they did their thing,” says Brian Wilson, co-author of some of rock’s greatest car songs, both for Jan & Dean (“Dead Man’s Curve,” “Drag City”) and his own group, the Beach Boys, who released enough automotive-themed tunes in the 1960s to fill their own gas-‘n’-go compilation. Among them: “409,” which celebrated Chevrolet’s then-new 409-cubic-inch V-8 engine and opened with a vroom vroom.
Never mind that it was apparently a Chevy 348 making all that noise; gearheads were geeked, especially with Mike Love singing about “my four-speed dual quad posi-traction 409” as if he’d just emerged from under the car with grease all over his face.
As a genre, rock ‘n’ roll celebrated car culture from the get-go.
Indeed, the ongoing debate over the starting point of rock music usually includes Ike Turner’s fuzzed-out 1951 chart-topper, “Rocket 88,” a paean to the Oldsmobile 88, on which Jackie Brenston (whose name was on the single instead of Turner’s) sang of a “V-8 motor and this modern design/My convertible top and the gals don’t mind.”
A caravan of car songs followed, spanning decades, makes and models, and filling more than a few summer soundtracks, not to mention road-trip mixes.
Today, there are still automotive references in popular music, particularly in hip-hop.But they’re usually brief mentions that often aren’t about cars at all; instead, they’re sexual metaphors (“Girl you look just like my cars; I wanna wax it,” R. Kelly sings) or status signifiers (“I deserve to do these numbers/The kid that made that deserves that Maybach,” Kanye West raps).
Senator John McCain (right) and Alaskan governor Sarah Palin (left) wave to supporters. Photo by Kirk Speer, The Gazette





