This took me back! Swap out "small town in New Hampshire" for "Portland suburb," and it feels like a story from my own HS days, right down to the staring at my shoes part. I wonder if house parties or "ragers" are even a thing any more? And for music, do they just rotate who plugs their phone in?
That aside, I'm new here, but having a blast wading through your playlist. Looking forward to seeing what comes next!
Anywhere, USA. House parties, ragers, keggers we all went to one or another growing up. I may have to throw a TMIML virtual house party in the near future.
Took me back, too. Similar, vivid memory of hearing “Layla” for the first time. 100 high school kids partying in a field, cars lined up like a the parking venue outside an outdoor Amphitheatre way past midnight; a handful gathered around a bonfire, not a word spoken, every half-functioning mind glued to four straight minutes of that piano trailing out alongside that guitar that just seemed to be desperately, yet delicately, trying to tell you some deep and profound story.
This took me back! Swap out "small town in New Hampshire" for "Portland suburb," and it feels like a story from my own HS days, right down to the staring at my shoes part. I wonder if house parties or "ragers" are even a thing any more? And for music, do they just rotate who plugs their phone in?
That aside, I'm new here, but having a blast wading through your playlist. Looking forward to seeing what comes next!
Anywhere, USA. House parties, ragers, keggers we all went to one or another growing up. I may have to throw a TMIML virtual house party in the near future.
Love this Judd. I had a similar experience the first time I dropped the needle on Live at Fillmore East and heard Statesboro Blues.
So great to read your writing again!
It's good to be alive ;)
... and be inspired by music.
Glad to have you back.
Took me back, too. Similar, vivid memory of hearing “Layla” for the first time. 100 high school kids partying in a field, cars lined up like a the parking venue outside an outdoor Amphitheatre way past midnight; a handful gathered around a bonfire, not a word spoken, every half-functioning mind glued to four straight minutes of that piano trailing out alongside that guitar that just seemed to be desperately, yet delicately, trying to tell you some deep and profound story.
Bonfire revelations are the best. Queue the coda.