Hey, it's Neddie checking in here and wading through the broken glass 'n' roaches where my lovely and sedate blog used to reside. Fuckin' Lightfoot.I'm here to bring some sanity back to th' I mean the proceedings with a shout out to THE MAN. BOB SEGER. Woah! Seger is like lightnin' Rock 'n' Roll Viagra for the masses. Seger is always pushing, pushing the envelope and he's never afraid to tell it like it is.
Listen to "Main Street", man. Listen to "Old Time Rock And Roll". He is in full Party-To-The-Oldies Fettle on these and more great numbers. LISTEN TO "TURN THE PAGE"! This is like a four-chord version of Th' Bhagavad fuckin' Gita, my little initiates.
Yes, Seger. He's achieved the kind of stature where he needs no first name. Plus Bob is a crappy name. Seger, man. He's like Cash, you know? Like Bono. Except you'll see him in a Piggledy Wiggledy LONG, LONG before you'll see that snob Bono. Bono'll send his damn roadie Edge in for funnelcakes and ask for his change back like th' weedy elitist he is. Not so our Bob. Our Seger. Guy's middle name is Piggledy Wiggledy.
Forgetting Sartre! I forgot that wet the damn second I first heard the chiming opening chords of "Strut", baby. That philosophy crap was out the window when I started stocking up on Seger's 50-minute beer commercials, baby. I mean albums.
Seger: A Man Of Many Cupboards.
P.S. man, I guarantee I get responses praising Seger to th' skies in all earnestness. Might take a month, might take 3.
13 comments:
Hey, yeah, Seger rocks, man. Him and Billy Squier. Bob and Billy. Perfect double bill.
Seger'd be so much better if i hadn't heard so fncking much of him.
him, Boston, Joe Walsh, The Who - all victims of stale, static, stodgy Classic Rock Radio.
"Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then".
While Seger’s tunes send that particular nervous flinch through my body to immediately hit the “scan” button on my car stereo, I guess I do have one or two not so terrible Seger-related memories. Back in my high school band, I played keys, and not a lot of tunes featured piano. So, it was sort of cool to get to play that unmistakable opening phrase on “Old Time Rock and Roll.” We used to extended versions of tunes no one could dance to, which gave everyone a chance to hit the head or step outside for a jay (e.g. "Comfortably Numb"). Then you kick in with that first few notes of Old Time Rock and Roll and all the kids come running back to the dance floor. Such was the Midwest -- classic rock with a bit of a country twang was any band’s key to success.
I like "Feel Like a Number" and "Beautiful Loser."
Is that sooo rrrrong?
:)
Midwestern rock radio was pretty much "All Seger, All The Time". Except for when it was "All REO Speedwagon, All The Time". I used to fantasize that their respective tour busses would collide in a fiery head-on somwhere between Ann Arbor and Champaign-Urbana. Love Bob's sax player's name, though. Alto Reed. How cool was that?
I like a lot of Seger, I dislike a lot of Seger. It's like that for all prolific artists, with me. I'm the same way with the Beatles. Not that I'm comparing the Beatles with Bob Seger... although, honestly, I like "Paperback Writer" about as much as I like "Against the Wind". Which probably says something truly dreadful about me, but what can you do? Well, I could lie. But I won't.
The Hold Steady are the new Bob Seger.
Jiminy, Ned.
Seger. Sweet, dude.
You get more play writing eight words about th' Silver Mullet band than I get carefully arranging my intestines on a canvas.
It's great.
simon- you're a fuckin' funny dude.
kevin- fuck, yeah. Lets us not forget to bring our cellies to wave.
cleek- you 'n' me and a Buzzcocks box set. And some airplane glue.
employee- put it in ice, man. you got iggy, man. Never forget iggy.
bill- dude, that's beautiful. Did you write that?
blowin' shite up- isn't it great that music doesn't have to be good to just knock our memories for a loop? I swear to god, you put on "Everybody Wants To Rule Th' World" and I will dissolve in a pool of girlish tears.
Also, if you think _I_ haven't played "Old Time Rock And Roll" to a packed house of drunken bikers about six trillion times whilst I sported th' biggest, toothiest white man's overbite evah so's I could get my c-note ohhh I forgot where i was...this sentence is too long to finish. Glrrphhh.
glue birl- "we're _all_ sensitive people...so _much_ to share..." It's all love, baby. It's aaaalll love.
rixteer- I'm familiar with th' ASATT format. It's a bitch to crack.
highlinzer- yeah, it says yer honest, baby. That gets big points around here. You're going to be Minister Of Awesome in th' Upcoming Time Warner Regime.
All you do is hang out and declare shit "awesome". You'll liase closely with th' Minister Of Not Awesome. Dude, she is HOT. Abd she hasn a breass on her back for sloww danzing.
Anonymous- EVERYBODY CHECK OUT THE HOLD STEADY. ALL REGULAR READERS ARE TO GOOGLE TH' HOLD STEADY AND CHECK OUT THEIR EMBARRASINGLY AWESOME MUSIC. iV'E HEARD THESE GUYS- THEY'RE SO GOOD I WANT TO STAND UP AND MOVE MY WHOLE BODY LIKE A WILLOWWW.
Tom- nice, man. Nice. Um, the other thing is I could never picture how anyone could mistake a fuckin' hulking dude with a beard and long hair as a woman. Maybe that's me.
Well, I do occasionally sign myself as TAD -- Totally Awesome Darren -- so I suppose that must be some sort of epochal prefiguring of my future office, or some such bushlit.
I could not decipher the last several words of your sentence regarding the chick with something on her back for slow dancing, but it doesn't matter. Unless she's my fiancee, my liasing with her will have to be kept strictly professional.
But thanks for the job offer. Do I get a 401K? And flexible spending?
As far as I'm concerned, Bob Seger gets a lifetime pass for this one couplet:
They do respect her but
They love to watch her strut.
Two Minutes and 42 Seconds in Heaven
How many horn solos does it take to kill a perfect pop song? JOSHUA ALLEN applies science and taste to determine the exact best length—down to the second—for the platonic song, including a full mix tape of samples.
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Here’s the problem: “More Than a Feeling” is four minutes and 47 fucking seconds long. I don’t have time for that kind of nonsense. That’s, like, one-seventh of my recreation right there.
Don’t get me wrong, slugger. I love “More Than a Feeling.” Those who don’t are your basic a-holes. But it’s like: We get it. The riff, the handclaps, the 10,000 multi-tracked guitars—nice. But then there’s another verse and another chorus and infinity more solos and just a really ridiculous amount of balderdash.
[...]
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