The votes are in and Whitesnake’s “Still of the Night” advances on to the Sweet 16 with a one vote victory over Def Leppard’s “Photograph.” Whitesnake was behind for quite awhile but a late comeback put them ahead just as the voting closed. Well done to the tie breaking voter. That song deserves to be in the competition just based on David Coverdale’s scream at the end of the epic bridge. Now the entire Sweet 16 bracket is ready. If you need a hair band refresher, listen to the playlist and then make your selections below.
Jonsi’s silhouette towers above the audience during the opening song of the set.
It’s funny, in a way: one of my favorite albums of all time, ( ) by Sigur Ros, is quite serene and ethereal at times…so much so that people often forget the climax moments that punctuate the latter parts of several songs.
Those in attendance Tuesday night at the University of Illinois-Chicago Pavilion couldn’t help but be reminded of the explosive elements of Sigur Ros.
Jonsi, Georg, and Orri, along with a full complement of vocal, string, and percussion performers, dropped two hours’ worth of gorgeous power on our ears, striking a good balance of the back catalog along with a taste of what’s ahead (or recently released) in 2013. The band understands its suitability for visual representation, as evidenced by the stunning, fantastical, and sometimes bizarre content displayed on the widescreen backdrop behind the band (and during the first couple of songs, a sheer curtain that surrounded the stage).
I’m not sure what to praise first, as there is no shortage of positives that came from this show, one of the greatest live music experiences of my life. Jonsi’s strong vocal work? The dude held a note for damn near an hour (wish I would have actually timed it) during “Festival” toward the end of the main set. His voice is as vital an instrument as his bowed guitar, and it was strong all night long, piercing through the bluster with its falsetto majesty while also dialing it back to match the tender moments of “Fljotavik” and “Vaka.”
How about that the new songs (three from the upcoming summer album, Kveikur; one from the recently released Brennisteinn EP) are absolutely stunning? I spent many of the 24 hours after the show making a deep bass-thump sound (something like “DUHHNNNNNN!”) over and over again, as “Brennisteinn” got lodged in my head, in much the same way that Gotye song ear-wormed its way into Travis while eating at Busy Burger. (“Wow that was one juicy burger!”)
In fact, the main takeaway I had after this night: Sigur Ros rocks so much harder than so-called “hard rock.” As each song reached its conclusion, Orri was killing the drums, Georg was pounding or plucking away at his bass, and Jonsi was attacking his guitar with his bow with the mania of a deranged lunatic (yet with amazing precision).
The aforementioned hopping across the back catalog was great. Four songs from Takk…, three songs from ( ), two from Agaetis Byrjun, two from Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust, and one from Valtari…a great mix. I didn’t hear everything I love, but that would have required at least another hour. For a two-hour show, they hit a great deal of the highlights.
After a two-song encore consisting of “Glosoli” and the best song from the catalog, “Popplagio” (or “Untitled 8”), the band graciously came out and took a bow for the adoring crowd. It was cool to see the big smiles on their faces; undoubtedly there were thousands of smiles (and cheers and whatever else) sent in their direction.
The show wasn’t perfect, but through no fault of Sigur Ros:
Oneohtrix Point Never was boring as shit.
Beer was $8 per Solo cup; $9 if you wanted an “import” (read: good) beer. I had zero.
I swear the same douchebag couple that stood near us at the Portishead show at the Aragon back in 2011 was standing next to us at this show. Making a show of getting high and making out and what not. Why not buy/rent one of the Sigur Ros concert DVDs and fuck on your living room floor in front of the TV?
Signs outside the venue made it quite clear that you could not bring in, among other things, “sticks/spikes.” Styx, that I can understand. But sticks? PUSSYFICATION OF ‘MURICA
Also, word on the street is that The Playpen on Mannheim is not the place to go for after-show entertainment. We heeded that advice.
And to end this part on a positive note, we saw Blue Pants, who has to be related to the infamous Red Pants, after the show. Wowzers.
Oh, and the night before…
Todd and I took in the kickoff concert for this year’s Mission Creek Festival. Ducktails, featuring Real Estate Guy (I’m too lazy to see which Real Estate member it is), topped a three-band bill before a sold-out* crowd at the Mill.
* Well, it was a free show, so “sold out” might seem a little loose with the language. But you did have to RSVP to get on a guest list, and that filled up, so I guess you could say standing-room-only. Also, there was free pizza.
Ducktails provided a solid, professional set. Groovy tunes, and Real Estate Guy (I know, I should open a new browser window and Google his name) seemed to be enjoying the show too. Aside from me spilling half a glass of Bell’s Two Hearted Ale, it was a good time. Here’s “Ivy Covered House”:
One opening act fell into the same category as Oneohtrix Point Never, in that it was one dude just sort of doing his own thing up there with button pushing. It was a little more elaborate than OPN, but that doesn’t mean it was any good. The other opener reminded me of James Chance and the Contortions minus the brass…and that actually is sort of an okay thing. If you are not familiar with James Chance, um, here:
The MoSS? Pit is growing for the April 27 Best Coast show…maybe we’ll see you in there.
It’s time again baby! That’s right. MoSS? Madness 2013 is finally upon us. Better late than never right? This year we are doing things a little differently and starting at the Sweet 16. No early round snoozer match-ups this year. We’re jumping right into the good stuff. Also different this year, you are going to be voting for your favorite hair band songs. With only 16 songs in the competition, many bands didn’t make the cut. Groups like Slaughter, White Lion, and Firehouse all had to settle for the NIT this year. You may be wondering, “How can one choose between such beloved classics as “Here I Go Again” and “Welcome to the Jungle?” A difficult task no doubt. You’ll have to figure that out if you want to help us crown the MoSS? Madness 2013 Champion.
First things first, we have to vote the final song into the Sweet 16 bracket. This year’s vote in match-up is between Whitesnake’s epic “Still of the Night” and Def Leppard’s classic “Photograph”. The winner of this match will not only take the final spot in the Sweet 16 bracket, it will also be the only multi-song artist on the bracket. Take a listen to both selections and vote below.
I’m just gonna get right to introducing the music this month because after last months post I had quite a few complaints.
@2indastink wrote, “Quit messing around and get to the music!”
@5nuckshuff wrote, “Todd sux. Space shuttle rules!”
@peaceandlove wrote, “I fucking hate your guts. Who gives a shit about your thoughts and feelings?!! Get to the music already.”
And that is just a small sample. Now, far be it from me to keep you all from the music you long for, so here you go…
Because I don’t want to be the guy that upsets your day. I know you’re in a hurry and have limited time at the computer/tablet/smartphone for exploring interesting new things. I too hate having to wait one maybe two whole minutes for something that I should have access to immediately. It’s like when you’re at the local grocery store, fast food restaurant or Gap-type clothing outfitter and waiting in line to pay. The people in front of you should just get out of the way. We have shit to do! Instead, they selfishly pay for their own items and make us all wait. Insufferable. That’s why I’m getting straight to the music today, no messing around…
No waiting. No delays. No sifting through poorly written stories about music and non-music related topics. Who wants to read that stuff? Not me. No sir, I will not read for enjoyment. I’ve read too much already. Besides, there’s no time to read when you’ve got livin’ to do…“L.I.V.I.N.”… We should be out having real world experiences. Back packing through exotic locals. Meeting new and interesting people. Having great love affairs. Sleeping in hostels. Nearly dying in said hostel because it is actually a backer packer slaughterhouse. Come to think of it, because I’ve taken time to read things in the past, I’ve not lived my life to its fullest. I’ve never been caught with a pound of hash duct taped to my belly in a Turkish airport. I’ve never done time in a Malaysian prison for a crime I didn’t commit. Do you know how many criminal plots I’ve foiled with just my wits and my never say die attitude? Two. Only two. I’m 38 years old. My father had twice as many under his belt at that age. But it’s a different time now. My father didn’t have things like video games, the internet and Honey Boo Boo re-runs to distract him from his destiny. I’ll not be to blame for your wasted lives. So I’m getting right to it…
Well, is anyone ever really to blame for something like this? To quote the late great Howard Jones, “No one is to blame.”…Wait…This just in…Turns out Howard Jones isn’t dead. Who knew? Well the sentiment is still the same. Some things are just out of our hands. We can’t control time. We can only do the best with what little free time we have. There never seems to be enough of it does there? So to avoid any anxiety attacks à la Jessie Spano from Saved by the Bell…
I’m getting right to the music this week…
Dig right into it. Immerse yourself in the awesomeness. You need a little “Me Time.” Put the kids to bed early. Wear your headphones so they can’t distract you. Listen while you drink a latte from Starbucks. Treat yourself. You deserve it. Life is fleeting. Me? I’m going to be listening while simultaneously training for the Iron Man Triathlon, learning Japanese and teaching my son how to throw a curveball. Well, I may have to shorten that list. There’s probably not enough time for everything. Uh oh. Anxiety attack time. No time. No time! Never any time!
I’m so excitedand I just can’t hide itI’m so excitedI’m so…scared
Ok… Took my Lexapro… I feel better now.
Crap. Looks like I really am out of time. Didn’t get to the music. Well, I don’t want to leave you hanging. Here’s a quick list of some albums you can check out. Enjoy…
This weekend marked a major milestone in my life as a pop culture junkie. I had no clue who the guest host or musical guest were on SNL. This was unprecedented. Once in a while they will have an actor or borderline famous person on that I won’t be super familiar with but I always know who they are or what show/movie/team they are associated with. Quite often, they will have a musical guest on that I would never listen to but I will have at least heard of them. As I sat down to watch this week’s show they announced the host, Kevin Hart. Who the hell is that? Musical guest Macklemore with Ryan Lewis? Who the hell are they? Then I found out another piece of information about myself; I didn’t care! Normally, I would have rushed to the nearest Googler and looked them up, but I truly didn’t care. Had pop culture passed me by? Why didn’t I care who these people were? Who is Kevin Hart? Macklemore?
Ok, fine let’s find out. Give me a minute…
I just checked out the IMDb for Kevin Hart. Now I’m looking this up for the sake of this post. Lest anyone think I actually care who this dude is or what piece of shit TV or movies he’s done…
Kevin Hart has 50 acting credits listed in his IMDb. 90% of which I had never heard of. Here is the only credit in that list I have actually seen.
2005, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Smart Tech Customer
With a resume like that, I totally see why he was picked to host. To be honest the skits weren’t too bad. The Walking Dead one made me laugh.
And then there’s Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. I don’t want to go on too long about these guys because I’ll just come across like a music snob a-hole. I know, music is subjective and we are all entitled to like what we want. But Wow! People actually like this stuff! Two guys pretend to be rapping while eight guys pretend to play brass instruments behind them. My wife and I play The Beatles Rockband game on the PS3 from time to time. Maybe next week SNL will have us on. At least the fake music we play is worth listening to. I’ll be waiting for the call from Lorne Michaels. Take a look below. Since NBC are dicks about people embedding there videos, here is a crappy YouTube clip of someone recording the performance via cellphone camera.
What were you thinking Lorne? This year had been pretty good so far too. A good mix of young and old hosts. Decent musical guests. They lost some longtime favorite cast members like Andy Samberg and Kristen Wiig and brought in a few new people that are really good. That new blonde chick cracks me up almost every episode. Some of the previously lesser known cast like Bobby Moynihan and Taran Killam have stepped it up too. I guess they can’t all be home runs. At least we can look forward to Timberlake’s appearance next week. Those usually are home runs.
Before I get started on the February music post I wanted to share something with you loyal readers. I realized something about myself today… I have a super power. Can I shoot laser beams out of my eyes? No. Do I have retractable Wolverine-like titanium claws? No. My power is the ability to predict when a shitty song or group will be playing on your radio. You need proof? Here it is…
Exhibit A
When I was 16 some friends and I sneaked onto the local golf course after dark with a golf cart key and case of beer. (You can imagine the hijinks that followed) After a few cold ones, I remembered that I brought a little portable radio. A debate immediately started amongst us underage drinkers about which station to choose. One guy wanted the local pop station. My response was something like this. “Fuck that station. All they ever play is that “I Want Money” song.” The song I was referring to was this piece of shit by Calloway.
To prove my point, I grabbed the radio and tuned it to the station. Everyone was amazed when “I Wanna Be Rich” was actually playing. To celebrate my newly unleashed powers we danced around high fiving and chugging beer.
Exhibit B
When I was in my early 20s, my girlfriend and I were driving around in her car. She wanted me to change the channel from the alt-rock station I loved to a classic rock station. I said, “No way. I don’t want to hear some shitty Journey song.” (I used to dislike Journey more than The Eagles if you can believe it. Don’t get excited Don Henley. I’ll always hate you. Since then I have realized the awesomeness of Steve Perry. I’m working on Chris. He still hates Journey.) Then I started singing the lyrics to the song, “Feeling that Way/Anytime.”
As I spun the dial over to the classic rock channel, the exact lyrics I was singing started playing over the speakers. My girlfriend was astonished and a little freaked out. Clearly, I had honed my skills and was now THE song predicting force in the universe.
Exhibit C
For some reason today, I started thinking about how the regular radio sucks and how I haven’t had to use my powers since I got satellite radio in the mid 2000s. I decided to test myself on the way home from work to see if “I still had it.” My plan was to turn on the local rock station as I was driving by Iowa City. What band’s song would be playing? I used all my song predicting muscles and came up with Incubus/Linkin Park. I didn’t pick just one because I can’t tell them apart and they are both equally shitty. As I rolled past Iowa City’s ever mysterious B’jaysville Lane, I turned off my satellite radio and tuned over to 94.1 KRNA. This is the awfulness that was playing.
Linkin Park. I still got it.
Anyways, I started thinking about how I could finally use this super useful skill. This is how. Take my advice, turn off your radios and listen to these MoSS? approved February releases.
My Bloody Valentine, m b v
Yes, the unthinkable happened and MBV announced via their Facespace page that they had a new record and website. The website immediately crashed and I wore out my computer’s refresh button until I was able to download the album. Chris already shared some thoughts on the record so I won’t go on too long about it. I will share this…The night of the release as I was constantly refreshing and battling the dreaded “403 Server Error”, I read a lot of comments on the MBV Facebook page. The best comments were by younger fans. They didn’t really get the excitement of us older dudes. One kid posted something like, “the only people that care about this album are middle-aged white dudes in the suburbs.” He nailed my demographic for sure. I don’t think he was 100% correct but m b v was certainly the biggest thing to happen in my world of music in a long time.
Key Track(s) – All songs are A+. Chris has described this album as the second coming of Christ. Yeah, it’s that good.
Cocaine 80s, The Flower of Life
The Frank Ocean collaborator came out with this EP a few weeks back and I’ve had it on steady rotation ever since. It sounds like what I wanted the last Frank Ocean record to sound like. The Flower of Life is full of life while Ocean’s Channel Orange seems sluggish.
That’s a short list but February is the shortest of months now isn’t it? Fine. If you need more, check out these albums I haven’t had a chance to listen to enough to comment on. At least it’s not Linkin Park.
Unknown Mortal Orchestra, II
Parquet Courts, Light Up Gold
Iceage, You’re Nothing
Beach Fossils, Clash the Truth
Chris’ last-minute post-script suggestions
I’m on board with many of Todd’s suggestions, and I’ll add two more albums I’ve been spinning (digitally speaking) lately:
Grouper, The Man Who Died in His Boat
OK, so you can’t really understand a lot of what ambient/noise musician is singing but when she uses her voice as another instrument, what does it really matter? Gorgeous, haunting vocals float over simple strumming and echoing tunes to create quite the mood. Good nighttime music.
Sample a song from the new album, used in this YouTube video to soundtrack some random VHS footage:
Veronica Falls, Waiting for Something to Happen
If you like Slumberland bands (the record label, not the furniture store), you can’t go wrong with this quartet of Brits. I heard the band’s debut from 2011 and thought it was pretty cool, but the second album has really hooked me. Jangle pop and boy-girl vocals galore. If you’re going to listen to Grouper as you lay yourself down to sleep, Veronica Falls makes for great tunes first thing in the morning. VF is playing in Chicago in about two weeks; I’d love to sneak away for a MoSS? Pit report. (Alas, parenthood and what not…)
Check out “Teenage” below:
I might be in the minority here, but based on the two or three songs I’ve listened to so far, the Shout Out Louds album Optica sounds pretty cool to me.
The other day I was at the Music or Space Shuttle? headquarters or “Launch Pad” as our MoSS? staffers often call it. I had a bit of blog writer’s block so I responded to the hundreds of comments we get on our posts. A few hours and several witty comebacks later, I noticed a package sitting on my desk under a pile of discarded MoSS? mix tapes. It was addressed to:
MoSS? ToddPeggy Whitson Business ParkSuite 321Lisbon, Iowa 52253
I was intrigued. Rarely do we have actual mail arrive at our HQ and very few people know the address of said secret lair. (Not so secret anymore I guess) Inside was a dusty old VHS tape simply labeled “99.9F°”. This not being the year 1989, MoSS? HQ didn’t have a VCR to play the tape. So I shrugged my shoulders, tossed it into the trash and continued on with my mindless internet surfing.
As I carried on with my “work”, my mind kept coming back to the tape. I started thinking about the cryptic title, 99.9F°, and what it could mean. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I dug the tape out of the trash. Where could I get a VCR in this day and age? Then I remembered that one of our neighbors at the business park was Ted’s Technology Barn. I always felt bad for old Ted. He doesn’t get a lot of customers anymore. People walk by his store all day long but rarely go in. With each potential customer he looks up with eyes full of hope. His excitement turns to disappointment time and time again as customers pass him by.
In the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, his store was at its most successful. This was the heyday of the video cassette tape. He thought the good times would never end and spent his entire life savings on an enormous shipment of VCRs. Business Park Legend has it that the day after he bought the shipment, the DVD player was unveiled. Within months his sales started declining. Having spent all his money on VCRs he couldn’t stock his shelves with the DVD players that the public demanded. He gambled on analog technology and lost. At least he took a shot. Since then, he has struggled as an electronics dealer, always seeming to have the wrong products.
I went next door and asked if he still had a VCR. He giggled hysterically and pointed towards the back of the store. Most of Ted’s store is like a museum for outdated gadgets. The shelves are lined with Apple Newtons, Microsoft Zunes, Rio MP3 players, Nokia cell phones, and Sega Dreamcasts all in their boxes waiting to be sold. He steered me towards the back room where he still had dozens of VCRs stacked on pallets. I asked Ted if I could borrow one of his VCRs but he wouldn’t let me. I had to purchase one. The price was one for $1000 or (as luck would have it) there was a sale on VCRs that day, ten for $1. I guess Ted was trying to clear out some inventory. I didn’t want one VCR, let alone ten VCRs, but had to know what was on that tape. So, I gave Ted four quarters and went back to the office with ten VCRs in tow. I blew the dust off of one and hooked it up to the break room TV. This is what I saw.
At first I thought,” She’s back! That evil pixie Suzanne Vega is trying to make another attempt on my life.” In earlier posts, we learned that Suzanne Vega was using her awful music as mind control to take over the world. She struck first with the song “Tom’s Diner”. I was able to stop her on my own that time but needed the help of shit rockers Third Eye Blind when she struck again with her song “Luka. After all that, I thought we had seen the last of Suzanne Vega. I was wrong. She must have mailed me this tape before our last showdown as a last ditch attempt to take me down.
I went to turn the tape off before the song could get stuck in my head. That’s when I noticed something different about this video, Suzanne Vega looked kinda sexy. I couldn’t turn it off. The song had a really nice groove to it and everyone knows that I have very little will power when it comes to alluring brunette women. Pretty soon I was actually enjoying the song. “How could this be happening? Is Suzanne Vega’s music good? What if other artists that I had labeled as awful are actually good? Everything I’ve ever listened to is now suspect. Dear God…is Don Henley good too? No… It can’t be. What have I become?!!”
Soon, I collapsed to the floor as the 99.9F° lyrics were swimming through my head.
Pale as a candleAnd your face is hotAnd if I touch youI might get what you’ve gotYou seem like a manOn the verge of burnin’99.9 Fahrenheit degrees
My head felt like it was on fire and I was certain I was dying. She hooked me in again knowing I couldn’t resist her sexy song stylings. I had to stop the tape or the fever would kill me. As I reached for the player, the 20 year old stop button broke of in my hand. Damn you Ted! The song continued…
You seem like a manOn the verge of burnin’99.9 Fahrenheit degrees
With no way to stop the video, I gave into the song and thought,” You’ve finally defeated me Suzanne Vega. Well played you dirty bitch.” I lay down on the floor as the life drained from my body. By the song’s last chorus, I was ready to accept cool cool death.
You seem like a manOn the verge of burnin’99.9 Fahrenheit degrees
As my last few breaths were about to leave my body, I heard music far off in the distance. It was the song “Terminally Chill” by one of my favorite chillwave bands, Neon Indian.
I thought that I was hallucinating but felt thankful. If I had to die, at least the last thing I heard wouldn’t be a Suzanne Vega song. Neon Indian’s chillwaves continued to fill the room and I began to feel better. Soon my fever broke and I became aware of my surroundings. The music was actually my cell’s ringtone. I picked up the phone. It was Ted from next door.
Ted: “Hey, thanks taking those VCRs off my hands. “I have like thirty copies of Big Trouble in Little China on tape back in the storeroom. How about I bring one over after I close up shop?”
Normally, I wouldn’t want to hang with Ted (he’s kind of a downer) but I felt like I owed him one. If he hadn’t called me when he did, I wouldn’t be alive to tell this tale.
Me: “Bring beer too”
So what’s the moral to this story?
To (sort of) quote the character Jack Burton from the aforementioned awesome ‘80s movie:
“When some wild-eyed, five foot tall musician chick grabs your ear, sticks a song in your favorite head until you want to die, and she looks you crooked in the eye and she asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that bitch right back in the eye, and you remember what ol’ MoSS? Todd always says at a time like that:
My job sometimes requires me to spend a lot of my day in the car. I don’t mind too much. It gives me time to think, reflect on my life and most importantly listen to great music. On these trips I sit back, relax and turn up the tunes. After many hours alone in the car though, I tend to have quite a few random and moronic thoughts. These are just a few of the revelations I came away with on the road.
No Sir, I Will Not Honor Your Thumbs Out Gesture
I drove past a freezing cold hitchhiker today. He seemed harmless enough. Clean-ish clothes, presentable face and a not too worn backpack. I thought, “Man what a shitty day to be stuck out in the cold. The guy probably had car trouble and just needs a ride to the nearest town.” A co-worker of mine tells me stories all the time about picking up hitchhikers. He thinks it’s fun and good for a story or a laugh. So I think, “It would probably be fine to pick him up.” Then I remember that I have an irrational fear of hitchhikers, road weathered tramps and Rutger Hauer. That’s right. The Evil Rutger Hauer. This all stems from when I was 11 and watched the movie, The Hitcher, starring a post-pubescent C. Thomas Howell and, of course, The Evil Rutger Hauer. That dude is just plain scary. Check out this scene if you dare.
He’s like a more determined version of The Terminator, an unstoppable killing machine. There’s a scene where he draws and quarters C. Thomas’ love interest with semi-trucks. Terribly disturbing for a young lad like myself. The Evil Rutger Hauer was in another movie called, Surviving the Game, where he was equally as sinister. In this one, he plays a rich dude that holds an annual hunting excursion where they hunt homeless people…you know hitchhikers and such. One might think that after The Evil Rutger Hauer created my fear of hitchhikers in The Hitcher, I would root for him as a hitcher-killer in Surviving the Game. No way. I’ll not get fooled by your crafty evil beguiling ways. Plus, I’m not looking to get stabbed to death by some psycho mobile hobo whose only fear of death is that he won’t be the cause of mine.
My Satellite Radio Kicks Can Kick Your Satellite Radio’s Ass
I have written many times on these road trip posts that I love my satellite radio. Great content, no commercials and minimal DJ babble. My radio is portable so I hook it up to the car stereo using an FM modulator. I pick a nice unused radio frequency and I’m like a mobile broadcasting force. Sometimes I drive by other commuters that are doing the same thing. They come up from behind me and I hear a little static then maybe a hint of another song or talk radio station. Occasionally, these cars completely wipe out my station altogether. More times than not, when I hear that static noise, my radio overpowers the other cars radio and wins the battle for the airwaves. I love looking over to the car next to me and seeing the confused and irritated driver. The irritation continues until they get outside my 100 sq ft broadcasting range. This morning I heard that familiar static sound as an SUV pulled up beside me. I had my radio tuned to Sirius Alt-Nation and was enjoying the Foo Fighters song “No Way Back.” That song started to fade out as the car came up beside me. The ‘80s gem “No One is to Blame” by Howard Jones fought its way from the SUV radio into my car radio. The lights in my car dimmed and the engine revved harder as the stereo pulled extra power from the battery and fought back. Soon Howard Jones could be heard no more and the other driver reached for the tuner on his radio. This is the standard sign of defeat. Better luck next time Howard Jones Guy.
Sammy Hagar Knows How Many Ways There Are
And of course, by the end of my day I was feeling tired and in need of a serious hair metal fix. I thought, “What if I rock incorrectly? I know I need to rock, but is there more than one way? If there are multiple ways to rock, how do I know which is best suited for this particular occasion? I could look quite the fool.” I quickly flipped stations over to Hair Nation in search of answers. Luckily, Sammy Hagar’s “There’s Only One Way to Rock” was playing and curbed my anxieties. His message is so simple…
Crank up the drums, crank out the bass Crank up my Les Paul in your face
There’s only one way There’s only one way to rock!!!
Just rock baby! You can’t screw it up!
All in all it was a pretty good trip. Plenty of tunes. Plenty of dangerous hitchhikers. If you see me cruising down the interstate sometime, don’t bother sticking your thumb out for a ride. I’ll just scream and drive right past you.
Music or Space Shuttle? 