On Repeat: It doesn't matter which of our fantasies fail

I love this sprightly little thing buried in the middle of Stills' unsung opus Manassas.

And it's all F, G, D and an Am so I'll be crooning this over the air conditioner at home sometime this summer.

And it's all in the way you wonder

This is an early-day discovery that I guarantee will turn into push-play-and-repeat.

For a quasi-super group with a hell of a lot of history hanging over their heads, this sparkles. And, for a bunch of white dudes, grooves. And is another reason the early 70s was so music-rich, in my mind -- all the dudes who'd by then thrown in the towel with their formative bands were suddenly free to make their own stuff. All Things Must Pass. Ram and Band on the Run. Plastic Ono Band, Imagine, and Mind Games. That's just one freaking band. Oh, and Neil. And Curtis. Repeat the cycle roughly ten years later and you've got Michael and Tina.

Bring on the sprawl. I like sprawling albums. They speed up an hour of work or render an afternoon shaded by trees or a commute someplace remote, like Milwaukee or Rogers Park, a more contemplative experience.

This will be good plane listening.



And good for the turntable that's resting in my Amazon cart...