el debarge is NOT gloria estefan

So, I had to write about this even though I should be writing about software. Today at work we had our usual status meeting. And, I have to say, even though status meetings are supposed to be boring, I really like the people I work with, so our meetings always have a kookiness to them that keep them from being completely mind-numbing. We always get off the subject at some point and today was no different. Ultimately, we ended up talking about DeBarge and, specifically, "The Rhythm of the Night." I sang a little of it, we all giggled, then suddenly, a terrible thing happened.

Someone asked, "Wait. I thought that was that Miami Cuban band?"

I gasped.

"Do you mean Miami Sound Machine? Are you talking about "Conga?"

I was heartbroken. How, oh how, do you confuse the two songs? One involves the Motown rhythms we all know and love, teeny-bopified as all things seemed to have been in the 80's, while the other practically single-handedly placed the montuno flair squarely into the top of the American pop charts for perhaps the first time ever. Oh, no. These are not the same songs.

Okay, perhaps the very subject matter is enough for listeners to get them mixed up, seeing as how they're both songs about infectious rhythms you cannot deny. Sure, I can see that. If you're a totally PASSIVE listener. But come on! One begins with a bass line and, like, Jamaican steel drums, with a very ballady intro, "When it feels like/the world is on your shoulders/and all of the madness/has got you goin' crazy." Then you find out about a place where you can dance the whole night away and shake your blues right away, and finally, at the end, there's a very Lionel Richie-esque call and response with a chorus of voices: "Naaa na na nah!" indicative of people everywhere pouring into the streets, succumbing to the rhythm of the night. This is a story, people. This is a story of triumph over the blues with a top-down cadillac and your brothers and sisters, some rhinestone sparkle, a little hairspray, and all the people in your neighborhood. It's like, Sesame Street meets... Well. It's like Sesame Street. For 80's discotheques.

The other song, "Conga," is a command. There's no story. This is a fast, undeniable spell you are put under from the word go. There is no exposition. Bam. The horn section starts and you're on. "Come, shake your body, baby, do the conga, I know you can't control yourself any longer!" says Gloria Estefan - twice, just so you know she's serious - and then, boom. A piano furiously syncopates the Din Din din-din-din Din Din, as you slide down the chromatic montuno scale into a pool of rhythmic escape. The rest of the song is all about the beat and the dance. And at the end? No denouement. There's no fading out of party Na-na-nahs. Nope. The song WAS the party, and if you missed it, too bad. It is over. You'll have to remember not wait around so long next time the Miami Sound Machine comes for you.

These are not remotely the same songs.

Want to refresh your memory? YouTube videos here:

DeBarge: "The Rhythm of the Night"

Miami Sound Machine: "Conga"

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