I'm waitin for the right moment to come

Oh, now we're getting into some good stuff. March, April 86? I was asking Why Can't This Be Love (and can we hold up a minute and acknowledge it only took two or less years for VH to assemble a new lead singer and a power ballad? Diamond Dave was sorely missed--and pissed. Could the "woo" at the end of the verses be any more bland, especially when you compare it? You [don't] got charazma!)

But that's not what I came here for today, or what I mooned around the radio for then. 

It was this sweet, longing one, an early-ish outing written by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis and among a hip-hop firmament on the soundtrack of a movie I never saw (but really want to, now that I'm still reeling from Hip-Hop Evolution). 

It's kind of brilliant--no percussion, minimal rhythm, essentially a cappella. They are really singing it to you, for you. 

Saying it for me in how it felt, as usual, somehow evoking early spring, the tendrils showing up, the opportunity in the air.

[Freedom Flight]

...for a wintry first spring sunset of the year, during which I can hear gulls crying about the cold as they circle over the lake...

Has given me a feeling

This morning I got to relive the moment I first heard this song during a dissection by Sound Opinions of the legendary albums by Big Star, #1 Record/Radio City. The word "swoon" was used. That is, in fact, what I did when I was sitting on my couch on a Friday evening in September 2009 before I went out to see someone or other's comedy show later that night.

I told you I was reliving it.

Eventually, some eighteen months later, after a lot of how "Feel" feels had been felt, in fact, I learned to play it myself. (A D G A D G A D G A D G A G A C G G A C G)

But back to the discovery: I discovered Big Star, really, then. I became one of the "children by the millions," finally, when I'd not bothered myself ever to really investigate those beloved by so many beloved by me (actually, after the first full listen of #1/Radio I was going, um, hello, Elliott SMITH and not um, RePLACEments, somewhat to my surprise). So much so that weeks later, in October 2009, I buried spring bulbs in my front yard while that double-album pop-rock magnificat coursed through my earbuds. And, I like to think, romantically, into the soil itself.

I was still listening, not as much, but still, when those bulbs erupted, to my delight, into towering hyacinths, daffodils and tulips.

Must. Play. SO. LOUD.