Friday’s Theme Music

Today’s music is a little gross.

Supine in bed, I would feel the mucus shifting. It moved with a soft snapping and crinkling sound, like it’s trying to sneak around my head. From that, I began singing, “Mucus stream,” to the tune of Bush’s “Glycerine,” from Sixteen Stone.  I was making up whole verses for it by the time I stole into sleep.

That’s not to denigrate “Glycerine.” I like the song, and enjoyed the album. It still lives in the shuffle space dedicated to that era.

(My CD player holds two hundred discs. They’re divided into eight sections. Sections are assigned genres, eras or purpose. Like, one section is for the blues, and houses Buddy Guy, Albert King, B.B., SRV, etc. Another section is home to classic rock, with Cream, Blind Faith, Traffic, Led Zep, The Who, and so on. Bush lives in the section I call post disco rock, along with Def Leppard, the Scorpions, later Van Halen and ZZ Top, and STP. My wife has a section of her favorites, and I have a section of my favorites. Since my punk and alt offerings are small, I just mix them in with other sections. Anal, aren’t I?)

(And of course, the CDs are stored alphabetically by group or performer’s last name, and I’ve indexed them on an Excel spreadsheet. Yes, anal.)

Returning to the song, the lyrics fascinate me, and I thought the video reflects the song’s mood.

 

 

 

Today’s Theme Music

Back in the early 1990s, I was stationed at Onizuka, just off Highway 101 in Sunnyvale. I worked with a guy who was dating a SF rock station DJ. Bush and Pearl Jam, among others, were playing in area clubs. The DJ was often involved locally in arranging these shows, so she would take him with him sometimes, enabling him the chance to meet the bands. I went a few times and ended up meeting the guys of STP, Pearl Jam and Bush. ‘Meet’ is a generous expression. It was more like they would generally nod at me (or stare) when my name was given. Sometimes one or two would chat with me, but the meet place was usually hot, crowded and barely lit, and they were getting ready to do a show. I was just trying to stay out of the way.

Here’s the twist: my friend was dating the DJ in secret. He spilled the news to me once while we were having a few beers. Why this was secret was never explained well. I didn’t care; it was their life. If they wanted to keep their dating secret, that was their biz.

Those three bands all were on the cusp of making it big when I met them; once they did, I never met them again, but I bought their albums and enjoyed their music. I ended up making a personal favorite CD for driving around and that CD included music from them, along with the Cranberries, Blind Melon, and a few others.

Bush’s ‘Comedown’ was the first song on the CD. I’ll always associate it with blasting down Interstate 280 in my RX-7 as it played. The weather was usually gorgeous, and it was a fine time for me to be alive, and the song’s lyrics fit: “I don’t want to come back down from this cloud. It’s taken me all this time to find out what I need.”

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