Oh, now we're getting into some good stuff. March, April 86? I was asking Why Can't This Be Love (and can we hold up a minute and acknowledge it only took two or less years for VH to assemble a new lead singer and a power ballad? Diamond Dave was sorely missed--and pissed. Could the "woo" at the end of the verses be any more bland, especially when you compare it? You [don't] got charazma!)
But that's not what I came here for today, or what I mooned around the radio for then.
It was this sweet, longing one, an early-ish outing written by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis and among a hip-hop firmament on the soundtrack of a movie I never saw (but really want to, now that I'm still reeling from Hip-Hop Evolution).
It's kind of brilliant--no percussion, minimal rhythm, essentially a cappella. They are really singing it to you, for you.
Saying it for me in how it felt, as usual, somehow evoking early spring, the tendrils showing up, the opportunity in the air.
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