7 Reasons Playing Chaka Khan’s “I’m Every Woman” Abnormally Loud Is Inexplicable
Anyone who witnessed the draft version of this post will have seen that it was originally entitled, 7 Reasons Having A Penchant For Chaka Khan’s ‘I’m Every Woman’ Is Perfectly Natural. And there were seven reasons. Loose reasons, but seven reasons non-the-less. It was ready to be published. Only, I couldn’t do it. For the first time in my life I had written something I couldn’t even pretend to believe. Having a penchant for Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman is not perfectly natural. In fact, it’s wrong. Very wrong. So wrong that it’s actually inexplicable.
Before we get to the reasons for this, let me first set the scene. Last night I choked on a peanut. Or at least I would had I been eating peanuts. I was quite happily half ignoring the BBC regional news – that’s South East Today for me – when a story shocked me to my very core. A man, a man from Folkestone, has had his stereo seized after he continuously played Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman at an abnormally high volume.
Here’s why that’s an inexplicable thing to do:
1. Logic. Right from the outset this song makes little sense. ‘I’m Every Woman’? How is that even possible? Rosanne Barr was a big girl, but not even she could be classed as ‘every woman’. Rather surprisingly she has only ever been classed as one. From this I come to the conclusion that I’m Every Woman has feminist undertones that are far too subtle for my man-sized brain to detect. So while I can understand the need for Germaine Greer to dance around the kitchen with her rolling pin, for this man I can not.
2. Choice. While there is nothing wrong with this man pitching his tent in the camptastic field, one does have to question his choice of song. I mean, anyone with half an ear drum can confirm that I Feel For You is a much finer work than I’m Every Woman. It starts with a guy who has a stammer trying to say, “Chaka Khan” for goodness sake. Genius.
3. Realisation. I’m a fairly impassive person. What other people think of me doesn’t bother me in the slightest – which is probably just as well really given the current standings in Sunday’s 7 Reasons poll. I have never had a problem admitting that my music collection includes some inexplicable titles. Billie Piper’s Honey To The B for example. This doesn’t mean however that I actually enjoy listening to the album. No, honestly, I don’t. In fact I think it has been hidden in the loft by my girlfriend. As I have got older, my musical tastes have evolved. To such an extent that if I even so much as see my copy of Louise’s Woman In Me I break out in a cold sweat. I know not to touch it.* It’s a self-preservation thing I think. I don’t believe that Folkestone man doesn’t feel the same way when he approaches his CD rack. Which makes his decision to go through and actually play his music even more baffling.
4. Guilty Pleasures. Obviously, when I say my musical taste has evolved, that doesn’t mean I don’t get a twitch on when certain songs I probably shouldn’t like float out of the speakers. Boy Meets Girl’s Waiting For A Star To Fall is probably the most guilty of these pleasures. What I wouldn’t do though, is play it so loud that the entire neighbourhood has a party in the street and I appear in The Daily Express. The Daily Telegraph maybe, but not the Express.
5. More Logic. I think I do understand a little of what Folkestone man must have been going through. I can relate to his predicament slightly. If I am watching cricket and my girlfriend is vacuuming I have to turn the volume up to hear what the commentators are saying. That is the natural thing to do. I presume from my experience that Folkestone man had little choice but to drown out the sound of his neighbours banging on the wall by turning up the volume. What I don’t understand is why he didn’t pause his music until the banging had stopped? Obviously that’s not something I can do if I am watching live sport. The knowledge that I am watching something five minutes after it has happened makes me feel violently ill.
6. Jobsworths. I guess the thing that really baffles me about Folkestone man is that he clearly likes keeping ‘Noise Officers’ in jobs. Noise Officers! Do we really need people whose full time role it is to identify what is too loud or not? No we don’t. It’s bloody obvious. If can hear it and I can’t control it, then it’s too loud. Maybe if Folkestone man and his ilk turned down their music, these noise officers could go and do something useful. Like chase burglars.**
7. The 7 Reasons Test. It has taken me far too long to come up with six reasons, let alone seven and quite frankly I need to get on with my life. But this only goes to show how inexplicable playing Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman abnormally loud is. If it was explicable I would have probably been able to reason it in thirty minutes. As it is, it has taken me a good three hours to get this far. I’ll be honest, this has been my worst 7 Reasons experience since 7 Reasons It Sometimes Takes 7 Hours To Write 7 Reasons and at the moment I have very little interest in returning to this site ever again. I’m turning to drink. And for once I don’t mean tea.
*Rather interestingly this CD isn’t in the loft. I am looking at it right now. Sweaty, but tempted.
**Whoever came up with the idea of Noise Officers needs to get in touch with me today to prevent a 7 Reasons rant on Thursday.***
***Not that I’m coming back. I quit.