Two songs that exist on my ’90s playlist are “All I Wanna Do” by Sheryl Crow and “Thursday Side of the Street” by Knapsack. While extremely different in popularity and tone, the two songs share the same basic content: a woman goes to a bar looking for companionship. Despite that common ground, they stand alone just fine. They were never meant to be paired together, a kind of split duet.
It reminds me of other projects from that era — movies like Tombstone and Wyatt Earp, or Prefontaine and Without Limits. They covered the same ground but chose to take separate paths.
Conversely, some songs — and some situations — rely on the tension of two. Think “Islands in the Stream” by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, or “Somebody That I Used to Know” by Gotye and Kimbra. In these, the juxtaposition of two perspectives is what gives the piece its power. One voice alone wouldn’t be enough to drive the point home. It’s the push and pull between them that raises the stakes.
Duets are powerful because they capture two perspectives moving toward the same destination. Obviously, Sheryl Crow and the boys from Knapsack were never going to collaborate — it just wouldn’t fit. Likewise, the producers of Tombstone and Wyatt Earp had different visions for their stories. They ended up releasing two similar movies within about a year of each other. Each has strengths, but maybe together they could have created something even more compelling.
At the moment, we seem to be stuck in a world of split duets, despite the fact that we desperately need to be singing the same tune. Relationally and politically, we’re going “solo” because “the other side is just [fill in the blank].” In relationships, there seems to be a growing disconnect between men and women. Maybe I’m in a content silo, but my own experience seems to back it up: men and women increasingly seem at odds over how relationships should work.
Politically, we also seem to believe that one side can “fix” what the other has broken. But the unspoken role of government now seems more about thwarting the other side than moving the country forward.
These are duets that cannot be split. Men and women need to be willing to engage in meaningful, fruitful relationships — for the sake of future generations, if nothing else. Our elected officials must find ways to work together if they truly hope to govern. Splitting these duets would lead only to poor outcomes for us all.
So how do we start singing from the same song sheet? First, recognize — as Dolly and Kenny said — “we rely on each other.” Despite the preference for encountering a bear in the woods, no genie is going to make all the men (or women) disappear. Even if it were possible, the consequences would be disastrous. We have to bring each other back to the table.
Seeing the value of the other voice is part of the equation. No one gets to hit all the important notes alone — the song only works when it flows together.
None of this is easy. And no, it won’t be solved by a single blogpost. There’s too much momentum behind the splitting. But the first step is recognizing that this is a duet, and solo performances just aren’t going to cut it anymore.
We need to find our way back to a collective mindset — not an exclusionary one. Again, not easy. Just necessary.
“We rely on each other!”
Huryk Unlimited 