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Moving from fantastical realms to the real world of tight pants and hot pavement, we look to some guys who clearly had their fingers on the pulse of their day. But then, a listener of yesterday's post now has me wondering if it's really so easy to distinguish between the escape and reality (strokes imaginary beard). At least, ridiculous taste in album cover art is common to both worlds.
What's a weekend without a little apprehension? What's a funky sunkissed jam without some skittering 6-over-4 hi-hat mischief to disturb the rubbery groove and nasal French girl vocalizing? It reminds me that I need new sunglasses. And a nice beach to restlessly lay around and burn my skin upon. But that's another weekend. Because an evening of gastric debauchery at Sammy's Roumanian Steakhouse awaits. As Anthony Michael Hall once said, "see you in the emergency room."