My internet radio station turns into hair metal after 1:30 PM because I'm pretty sure that's when the guy wakes up, goes down to his basement and starts making it all about his lost youth. Right now, I’m being subjected to “Bringing On The Heartbreak” by Def Leppard, but I'm tired and I just can’t be bothered to perform the complex operation of expansions and contractions that would be required to take my earphones out.
Sheesh…KROKUS? Were they even a band? I thought they were just a bad dream I had when I was twelve and fell asleep watching Headbanger’s Ball when it was hosted by Adam Curry. This is like The Scorpions meets Foreigner over at Tom Jones’ house and yet, YET, I still can’t seem to gather the strength to rip the offending appendages from my ear canals. This station is such a different animal in the morning. “Seasons” by Dave Mason followed by “Lovin’ You” by Minnie Riperton followed by “Never Been Any Reason” by Head East followed by “Ah Leah” by Donnie Iris followed by “Dreamweaver” by Gary Wright followed by “Home Tonight” by Boston followed by “I Love You” by Climax Blues Band and really, that’s about as close to perfect as a radio station can get. “I Love You” by the Climax Blues Band ALONE is worth every sullen moment I've ever had in life, and if you think I'm going to be embarrassed about loving it or owning the album on vinyl or slow-dancing with my pillow to it, then you obviously aren't familiar the ridicule-withstanding capacity I have when it comes to embarrassing music.
All right, that does it. I draw the line at Guns ‘n’ Roses “I Used To Love Her”. The earphones are coming out. So long, internet radio station out of Madison, Wisconsin. See your automated DJ, who has better taste in music than your human DJs, tomorrow morning, at which time I expect to be showered with heavy doses of semi-categorizable late-seventies weirdness that was probably forgotten for a very good reason…a reason that is clearly lost on me because I think it rules.
It's almost like livin' a dream.
Wednesday, 2 May 2007
These sort of afternoons make me feel so willfully twisted, like the universe trying to point me in the right direction but I keep on buying diet Cokes and having a desk job. And I always picture “The Universe” as a Daddy/God with a long white beard, but instead of robes, he’s got on a Hog Papa t-shirt and is holding a bottle of schlivovitz.