I can hardly wait to see you come of age

A long time I ago, I copied and pasted URLs here to share photos of cute baby animals.

Now I don't have to do that any more.

This remains a jukebox, not a bragging aunt's photo album, so here's one of a big brother and a little sister for the ages. And it'll do for a while.

Up and away

Refreshed, resolved resolve to post on this blog every day. It is a jukebox, after all.

This quote made me do it:

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.”
Aristotle

I can't guarantee excellence at every turn (again, a jukebox), but nothing's pulling the plug outta the socket on this machine.

Of a favorite song

I didn't think I could love this song more until I found this performance that's introduced via a bit with some very special guests.

I don't  have time right now to wax poetic over the riches that Burt Sugarman's Midnight Special has generally brought to my eyes and ears, but I will. Oh, I will.

I will say this: I think I got more chops when I've karaoked this shiz than Rupert.

But maybe he just needed to untuck that jacket from his pants.

On Repeat: And should I be sung and unbroken by not saying

This is one of My Most Favorite Songs Ever, ever. It is the most favorite song wherein the favorite status is not caused or created by lyric, or the marriage of lyric and sound, but solely is its sound. Only its sound, which is, to me, the sound of a heart hoping. The ache conveyed in this song is the ache of re-feeling what has been felt, and anticipation of feeling more. Flying down East Lafayette Hill Road on a yellow bike. Push play. Rewind. Repeat. Inside the apartment, after shutting the car door, insides screaming like a girl who spied a teen idol's hair flop just so over his eye during the concert. Push play. Rewind. Repeat.

This song stretches luxuriously up, and up even more.



It is on repeat every time I play it.

This is a love letter.

You sock it to me, mama

Here's a belated--and smoking--Hal David shout-out.

I love the back-up singers' woh-WOH! at the start of the song, adding to that slow burn. This is really masterfully orchestrated--and no wonder, it being a Bacharach. The overture for the album, really.




It's a track heavily favored by modern hip-hop and rap. Biggie to Bushwick Bill.

I favor this one, though (you'll want to click through to this. Damn, son).

This song spun on Dad's turntable; he had a copy of Hot Buttered Soul that I think I have. Gotta do a cabinet check on that one.

Gotta stop talking about it every two months and get the flipping turntable up in here!

How can I escape this irresistible grasp?

1. I know. 80s-era Pink Floyd. I know.
2. But there is an absolutely incredible mullet in this video (around the 2:14 mark)
3. And this song reminds me of boring afternoons working at Randalls grocery store when I was in high school.
4. I was pretty lucky to be able to listen to the radio while I was working at my job during high school.
5. That is why I knew who Robbie Robertson was when I was 17. But didn't truly discover The Band until I was 37.
6. Victoria Beckham's autobiography (from 2001?!) and a video album by Hilary Duff are both titled "Learning to Fly."
7. This is my favorite "Learning to Fly." Not really this one (though the video is rather funny). Too much of an earworm.
8. PF's LTF sits in the middle, straddling meaning and memory. Well, the weight is mostly on memory's side (see number 3).
9. Of all Pink Floyd songs, this one makes me feel something. Even when I heard it bleeding from Wrigley this June into the rehearsal I was in, up the street on Wilton Avenue.
10. I seem to gravitate toward making lists about Pink Floyd.

I'm still hanging on

Something brand-new! Too new for a jukebox, even. Well, a real one that whirs and flips and involves belts.

And I like it.

ATOMS FOR PEACE

Default

Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone

I agree.

We think 'we're all in this together' is a better philosophy than 'you're on your own.'"

Thank you, Bill. I think if you can get Fleetwood Mac back together, you can get Obama reelected. I know you can.

You've got to lead where your heart says go

The actual tune starts about 1:45, but the interview is worthwhile.



I feel hopeful listening to this. Maybe because I read (most of) my party's platform today. Maybe because I'm planning good things like travel and reconnecting friendships. Or that Prince is coming.

The lyrics hit me like a delicate scent wafting out of a full-blown-summer flowerbed. And those aren't going to be around much longer; it was dusk at 7:45 tonight). Instead of feeling the loss, I just felt the sunset.