IFLTS: 'Can't Buy Me Love,' The Beatles

Posted on Sep 9th 2009 1:15PM by Kim Davis
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'Can't Buy Me Love,' The Beatles
1964 single from 'A Hard Day's Night'

While my absolute favorite Beatles song of all time is certainly 'She Said She Said,' thanks to a 'High Fidelity'-level-thought-out mix CD from a boy, 'Can't Buy Me Love' is hands-down the song that hits me hardest with the ol' nostalgia (warm) gun.

I was 10 years old and invited to a slumber party at my brand-new best friend's house. You remember those, ladies? (It should be noted here that a) I'm not actually trying to sound like a bad comedienne and b) apparently all of my most vivid musical memories can be attributed to my fourth and fifth grade years.) She was pretty much the coolest girl in school and she wanted me, the short-haired chick in high-tops, as her bestie. It was so weird. And awesome.

There were three key variables for sleepovers during those years: The movie, the snacks and how cool the host's parents were -- the latter of which answered questions such as "Can we call the radio station DJ?" and "Can we stay up and play Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board?" On this particular night, we were armed with the endlessly rewatchable 1987 high-school flick 'Can't Buy Me Love,' pizza and soda (caffeinated!), and the kind of "Have fun!" parents who go to bed at 10pm and issue kisses to even the newest of friends (yours truly).

It goes without saying that the movie ruled. Geek bribes hot chick to make him popular; he's outed; cool click realizes nerds are people, too; geek rides off into the sunset (on a lawnmower) with hot chick -- the end. But what really stuck with us was the movie's title song. It had everything that mattered at that time: Easy to remember? Check! Fun to sing in the halls at school? Hell yes. Inspired fantasies of high school relationships to come? More nodding. We didn't know (or care) that it may or may not be about prostitution. In its purest interpretation -- along with its association with the film -- it sent a message to this (pointing at myself here) "totally geek" tomboy on the brink of "totally chic" that night: Just be yourself. And, of course, don't ever, ever spill red wine on your mom's white suede jacket.

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