I’ve been unable to get this old West Indian song, from the 1960 album The Many Voices of Miriam Makeba, out of my mind. Makeba recalls an exchange of admiring glances in a marketplace which result in a kiss. The simple assertion that love tastes like strawberries is sweet, but this seems like a fleeting, doomed affair.
The lyrics start off a little trippy.
Love is free like pinwheels flying…
Somebody I’ll do a posting about lyrics which are trippy which were written before people started tripping. And I know someone’s going to say that LSD was invented in the 1930s, but it wasn’t mainstream until much later. In general, this recording doesn’t sound 50 years old to me. It sounds like stuff Makeba recorded in the late 70s. So it sounds 30 years old to me. What’s wrong with me? I’m having more and more of a problem enjoying “the contemporary.” Someone in my comments a while ago called this a conceit. They called me a poseur! Anonymously! Well, whatever. I ams what I ams and that’s all that I ams, a la Popeye.
Greek pop singer Nana Mouskouri sang the song in 1969. Her version is cooler. More percussive, and not as haunting.
And yet another nice version by French actress/singer Caprice Chantal, of whom I can gather very little information about.