I’m having myself a little mourning session for Brad Delp today. This morning I blasted Boston’s greatest hits on my way to work. When Lola and I went out for coffee, I still had it on and we talked about what a loss it is and that he was too young. My heart goes out to his fiancée, his kids, and his fans. When I heard him referred to as “the nicest guy in rock and roll,” it reminded me that musicians exist outside of their records, that they become middle aged and live locally and continue to share their music with appreciative, albeit smaller, audiences.
Boston is one of my top 5 bands. In college, I used to play “Don’t Look Back” so often it felt like my theme song. “A Man I’ll Never Be” is the one I like to belt out at top volume when I’m alone in the car. “Let Me Take You Home Tonight” is like a phenomenal third date of miniature golf and ice cream. The ethereal intro to “Something About You” causes me to collapse against the nearest wall and sigh.
I make no apologies about loving cheesy arena rock. Boston’s songs make me wish I were twenty years older. They represent what was good and free about the late seventies: in the post-Vietnam world of gasoline shortages and macramé, with Reaganomics just a few short years away, the music was idyllic. It embodied endless summer: romance, muscle tees, heartbreak, Miller High Life, and the freedom for white boys to rock giant afros. I once read something about “More Than a Feeling” being the musical equivalent of one’s older brother washing his car in the driveway. It’s so true, and I never even had a brother.
Anyway. Godspeed, Brad.
2 Comments:
Having actually lived in the 70s, you are dead-on, my sista. Oh, the days. And really, who's idea was macrame? That was a hobby that never should have been.
Thanks! Macrame and decoupage, two things the world never needed. And crappy embroidery on the ass of one's jeans.
Post a Comment
<< Home