Turn it Up: Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner

Needed a mind-alterer right about now.

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.

Friday Night: No Way To Fake It

You bet I'm posting the seven-minute version of this song.

Friday Night: And fly like a 747

This is the inaugural post in a new series I came up with five minutes ago: Friday Night.

How many songs are there about going out and getting down tonight, boogieing tonight,
how young the night is? Let us go then, you and I, and find these paeons to blissful anticipation.

And now all I want is to go lose myself in the heaven of a dance floor tonight.