WALK-UP WEEK! Modernism Monday: “Seventeen Years,” Ratatat



Baseball is my favorite professional sport.  “Why,” I hear you reluctantly mutter?  Because it’s easy to understand and doesn’t have the homicidal undertones that football and hockey have.  I’m also the most familiar with it, having played Little League and collected baseball cards as a kid.

The other major reason I love baseball is the awesome modern addition of the walk-up song – aka, the song that plays when a batter steps up to the plate.  I’ve had the same conversation for years with friends and family about what the perfect walk-up song would be, but I hate having to pick one.

WAIT OMG I HAVE A BLOG NOW.  HAH.  Welcome to Walk-Up Week, Part 1: The Non-Ironic Version.  (Part 2 will take place in a few months after my Minnesota Twins have once again blown their chances at the Series, probably after losing, again, to the Tigers or the White Sox, and I think baseball is a hateful and idiotic sport with which I wish to have no association.)  We begin the week with “Seventeen Years,” by Ratatat.  This is a song for that batter with a consistent record of pasting the ball high over the left field wall, but, being a little older than most, is only brought out when his* skills are absolutely imperative.

*His.  It’s always his.  Oh well.


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