I remember when I saw B-52s at the Rialto Theater in Tucson, Arizona a few years back. I was in my early 20s and expecting a highly energetic performance.
Ever heard this phrase? “Quit while you’re ahead?” None of the members of the B-52s ever have apparently. Instead, I imagine they all have matching tattoos on their rear ends that say something like “Keep on Truckin’” because that’s exactly what they’re doing.
Though they were decked out in their usual attire (did someone say beehive?) — something about their performance was a bit off. Turns out, they were playing all of their songs at a much slower tempo than normal. Did the sleepy Rock Lobsters accidentally snort lines of Ambien before stumbling on stage?
I'm not going to lie, I was hoping that I would experience a complete loss of control of my body-- TIN ROOF RUSTED. That didn’t happen, unfortunately, but I did manage to get several hip twists in there. I can only imagine how amazing it would have been to see this band back in their heyday (the late 70s, early 80s).
The grittiness of the female vocalists in this song gives me chills. When I first discovered the song earlier today, I immediately felt compelled to sing along, especially when the female vocalist screeches in despair.
Why don’t you dance with me?
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what came next. I wanted to keep screaming. Her pain was my pain. I imagined myself with a towering beehive on the dance floor screaming at some fuckboy (did they call them "fuckboys" in 1979?) who failed to return my call after a rumble in the sheets. But wait...what was the next part? WHAT WAS THE NEXT PART?
Imagine my surprise when I googled the missing mystery lyric: I’m not no Limburger.
Maybe you’re thinking the same thing I thought earlier: What the fuck is a Limburger?
After another Google search, I found out that a Limburger is a cheese. Yep, you got it. She called herself a cheese.
And there you have it fellas. Think twice before you give us lady-folk the runaround. It’s much better to be honest (not like ‘really’ honest, but more like ‘polite’ honest) than just leave us hanging. Otherwise, we're bound to develop some weird cheese complex that’s going to take us years of therapy to get over.
Even though I’m lactose intolerant, I find this song highly satisfying. 10/10