Category: Waltz Wednesdays Page 1 of 8

Kozmic

Dedicated

This is dedicated to a cover of a cover of a song I love.

Covered the cover
Covered the original

The Mamas & Papas were a single drop of cool that made the whole world cooler, even at that billion-to-one dilution:

The whole Village scene, in 3’47”

Creeque Alley is one of the few songs that wherever I am, whatever I am doing, I will stop and listen if it begins to play.

Also: they were not above stirring up some shit

Piano Sounds Like a Carnival

One of the O.G. rock& roll waltzes for you today…

from one of the O.G. rock&roll singers. It’s hard to believe that this first hit the radio and started lilting through my brain when I was still in high school. It’s as if it’s been playing for the Longest Time….


They can play that at my funeral; no joke. It’s evergreen. So is this Traveling Prayer


And by the way note that the Piano Man version played on this here blog is the full-length, and not the chintzy 3’05” cut Billy kvetches about in


Attentive readers have noted that my Waltz Wednesdays and Train Music Thursdays entries are sometimes just excuses to post a bunch of music from artists I like.  

Attentive readers are smart.

Take It to the Limit

Mostly, I prefer studio recordings of waltzes. The performers often feel free, in live performance, to play fast and loose with the rhythms. Neil Diamond’s live performances of Play Me drive me crazy for this reason, as do most of James Taylor’s renditions of Sweet Baby James.

But Eagles might be a rare exception to this. They add flourishes to their songs, but the bones are left solid.

And today I am adding this non-waltz, just because.

A commenter on YouTube referred to this song as, “A one-star Yelp review of a hotel, plus an amazing guitar solo.” I leave you with that.

Parsley, Sage…

…rosemary and thyme. If you read the names of those four herbs and thought of a bouquet garni, I have to ask: how is the weather on your planet?

They (the ubiquitous “they”) tell us that more than things we never acquired, we’ll regret the experiences we never had. I had a solid chance to go to Central Park on the afternoon of September 19, 1981, and I said, no.

I’d plead temporary insanity, but is it temporary when it persists for some 26 years? The afternoon was a Saturday. I was in that long phase of my life when religion trumped just about everything. Now I can only watch the film and listen to the recording.

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