There were only so many times you could listen to Hurricane, Just Like a Woman, Lay Lady Lay and lots of other songs before the tape ended, was turned over and you get it all again. This went on for about three days.
As we made our way north through Rajasthan to Delhi the song was everywhere. There was no escape. Sometimes I would shudder to consciousness late at night, sweat drenched and hysterical, as Disco Deewane played endlessly in my head.
Listen to Cher Finver of Nevada narrate her story about Innocent Man, backed by The Stereo Stories Band.
I worried the distance would be a death sentence as I found myself alone in my best friend’s mostly empty new living room, 1681 miles from any possibility of weeknight concerts, impromptu G&Ts and sushi, Galentine’s Day, movie marathons, holiday gatherings, city adventures, beach birthdays, and drop-everything post-tragedy afternoons of comfort TV.
I wish a few Billy Joel songs did not torture my soul, but songs are a time machine.
The songs invited me to sing again. And I realised through that two-week journey, that that was what had gone missing.
Hannah Hunt opens in a seascape. A gentle, pretty song, it initially glides in that ethereal space between sleeping and waking. There’s a quietness, an almost meditative quality to the music that maybe mirrors our narrator’s quest for peace.
day one and two Zep II, day three and four Zep IV, four sticks/ the ciggie slim-jims keeping company with Bonham fills of tom-tom
headlights splay across a country roadway/ single lane both ways in groovy groovin’ grooves/ to the smooth, smooth sound of billie holiday
Over the years, while my mother’s faith in Christianity declined, her belief in country music only increased.