Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Joe Walsh - "Turn To Stone"
Is this a some sort of Black Sabbath Vol. 4 outtake? Hmmm, both LPs were released the same year, it’s bottom-heavy (that bass that bass that bass...) in the best Sabbath manner, though the guitars are surely Walsh as are the harmonies. Alternate theory: The Sabbath crew visited Joe to check out The Rocky Mountain Way, and a late-Saturday-night chemicals-fueled collaboration (after the good Catholic boys from Birmingham had gone to Saturday mass) left fragments in minds and on tape. From this sprawling mess, Joe pieced together “Turn To Stone”. Result? Walsh's best metal move since "The Bomber". Later, he cleaned up this same song up for another try in '75, a if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it exercise to clear the path for Life's Been Good in the Fast Lane City which ended in pulling a proto-Dukakis on an album cover. Say it ain't so Joe!
Tuesday, June 06, 2017
Pearl Jam - "Rearviewmirror"
CITY CENTER FOOD COURT
There was Taco Bell, which I avoided because coworkers would always want to place orders for me to take back. Same with Subway. Same with McDonald's, which was always crowded and I usually chose the wrong line and thought they should have a guided-rope line like a bank so you didn't get screwed by choosing the wrong line. There was an Orange Julius. I think they served hot dogs or something else sketchy. I never liked an Orange Julius, just wished it was orange juice. There was a place that just served baked potatoes. One gal I worked with loved it. (Who eats a baked potato for lunch?) There were a bunch of other shops, including a Chinese place that a coworker always ordered from because our company had been sued by them and he thought it was funny to be their paying customer. He claimed he had a list of such places that he tried to frequent.
The secret attraction of the food court was the stairs. Stairs that took you to a smaller, upper level. You could go up there, sit next to the railing, avoid the hustle-bustle noise below, people watch. One stretch at the office they had increasingly frequent Friday lunch potlucks. I would bring cookies from Byerly's, but was stymied when someone else started bringing homemade desserts. So I would sneak out the back door, hit the food court, spend lunch reading the paper on the upper level. Upon returning to the office, skip the potluck cleanup and the accompanying chatter.
Return to my desk, turn the radio on. Four more hours, then the weekend.