Look up Progressivism. Lots of links. But I think this one is at the heart of the meaning of Progressive.
Given the predilection to progress, the past is viewed as an inferior state of existence with various afflictions that wither away over time.
The past is not something to which one refers in order to go forward. We throw out the past, because it will only hold us back. What does the past have to offer, anyway?
Which brings me to the Don McLean concert I attended with hundreds of other olden goldens; revelling in the past. And as I listened, again, to the lyrics I confirmed to myself, again, that today’s lyrics leave me hanging. Now this is not unusual. Each generation progresses.
So I decided to compare a song, “American Pie,” an homage to Buddy Holly, written by McLean some time ago, to one of today’s great artists, Drake, who just won a Grammy. The song I chose is his latest release “I’m Upset.”
This is called progress. Enjoy.
Drake 2018 Yeah, I’m workin’ on dyin’
I’m upset
Fifty thousand on my head, it’s disrespect
So offended that I had to double check
I’ma always take the money over sex
That’s why they need me out the way
What you expect?
Got a lot of blood and it’s cold
They keep tryna get me for my soul
Thankful for the women that I know
Can’t go fifty-fifty with no ho
Every month, I’m supposed to pay her bills
And get her what she want
I still got like seven years of doin’ what I want
My dad still got child support from 1991
Outta town, people love to pop a lot of shit then come around
Word to Flacko Jodye, he done seen us put it down
Niggas askin’ if I’m cool
I’m upset
Hunnid thousand on my head, it’s disrespect
So offended that I had to double check
You tryna check?
This is real life, niggas think we playin’ chess
So what’s next?
Jump up out the bed like I’m possessed
I go out on tour and I say I’m drinkin’ less
End up gettin’ loose and gettin’ pictures from my ex
SMS, triple X
That’s the only time I ever shoot below the neck (skrr)
Why you keep on shootin’ if you know that nigga dead? (Skrr)
That’s the only kind of shit that gets you some respect
Got a lot of blood and it’s cold
They keep tryna get me for my soul
Thankful for the women that I know
Can’t go fifty-fifty with no ho (ayy, ayy)
Every month, she don’t even love me, she just puttin’ on a front
She gon’ try and settle outta court and make a run
Then gon’ ask me how I’m doin’?
I’m upset
Half a million on my head I can’t accept, yeah
‘Least it makes me feel someone tried their best, yeah
Want to waste a half a million, be my guest
Made me wanna buy a vest and a TEC (skrr)
But I’m blessed, I just checked
Hate me, never met me in the flesh
Say she got some things she gotta come here and collect
That shit is in a box to the left, to the left
Got a lot of blood and it’s cold
They keep tryna get me for my soul (for my soul)
Thankful for the women that I know (that I know)
Can’t go fifty-fifty with no ho
Written by: Aubrey Graham
American Pie, 1972 Don McLean
A long long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
Something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
So
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Well, I know that you’re in love with him
‘Cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
I started singin’
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Now, for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But, that’s not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me
Oh and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Lennon read a book on Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died
We were singin’
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
It landed foul on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance
‘Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?
We started singin’
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
‘Cause fire is the devil’s only friend
Oh and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
He was singin’
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died
And they were singing
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
They were singing
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
From the Ethics of the Fathers: “Rabbi Tarfon used to say, it is not incumbent upon you to complete the task, but you are not exempt from undertaking it.
