Friday Night (Hundred Dollar Bill)

Officially, this is an F song. I always call it Hundred Dollar Bill and got the order flipped. Whatever. My blog, my rules.

I. Love. This. Song.

When the girls were younger, they’d both go to Louisiana for weeks during the summer. Candice and I would each get in a visit with our respective parents on either end of the trip. They’d also spend time there just with the grandparents. It was a win/win/win situation all around.

On one of these trips, I flew into Houston on a later flight (probably because it was the cheapest) and so Kirk picked me up. I think this might’ve been even before we had Casey. He had the album Philadelphonic on cassette. We had a bad habit of sometimes smoking a joint on a drive, as was the case this time. About halfway through, he popped in the cassette and this was the first song I heard from G. Love.

Dunno if it was the song, the weed, the sense of freedom of having no parenting responsibilities for a week or so, but me and this song hit it off. I think I hit replay on it about 10 times – I remember Kirk getting annoyed it was so many times.

We ended up getting lost once or twice – Kirk took a wrong turn coming out of the airport. And this was before either of us had a cell phone, not that that would have done any damn good for navigation anyway. Also, why doesn’t Texas believe in actual names for roads instead of numbers. Damn state might be worse than Virginia about that.

You kissed me like a shark
That’s sniffing on a snack

I’ve always thought that was a particularly vivid image. Great song, great memory.

Also, I don’t suggest weed smoking and driving – it’s stupid. However, it happened, we were safe and happy (and full after stopping at a convenience store for various fatty snax – probably Cheetos and/or Smartfood White Cheddar popcorn, which is the office roadfood of JBD III roadtrips). Wouldn’t do it again, but, some of us are lucky to escape unscathed from our idiocies when younger.

Hold On

Another Oxford American discovery, Alabama Shakes needs to make albums faster. Some songs take a while to worm their way in. I was hooked immediately the first time I heard this. Damn, that voice.

Come on, Britteny, you got to get back up.

Damn right.

And write music faster dammit, the world needs more Alabama Shakes in it.

Hurt

The Johnny Cash version of this made me rethink covers. Along with Whitney Houston’s version being better than Dolly’s of “I Will Always Love You;” I think the Cash version of this song is more powerful than the original (also very good).

Something about Cash’s aged, weary voice and Rick Rubin’s ability to get the most out him for the last great albums of Johnny Cash’s career, The American Recordings. Just incredible.

Hotel California

While I love going to concerts these days, early in my life never went to any. Didn’t really have the money for it, though I steadily warmed to them during college — free concerts helped. However the one band that I always wanted to see love was The Eagles. And I could’ve gone seen them for free in New Orleans in the summer of 94 on their Hell Freezes Over Tour except I had to go find a place to live in DC for grad school. So I pretty much thought I had missed my chance forever.

Bummer.

Then they toured again two years ago. Thanks to George for scooping up the tickets, finally got to see The Eagles. And now that Glenn Frye is gone, likely that was the last chance. And it really is the last tour with the Eagles, who were Frye and Henley.

I’ve always liked to think that when you die, you learn everything you ever wanted to know. Part of me thinks that a little mystery is a good thing, and I’m (usually) glad that they’ve never provided an explanation for whatever the hell the song is about. Other than Henley’s “journey from innocence to experience” explanation (or something close to that).

Home

I heard this song one morning flipping channels in bed. Hooked me in. Rough gravelly voice. Little bit of Louisiana funk. And, I’ve driven past mile marker 112 more damn times than I care to think. Great song, and a damn fine album too.

Honey

Moby’s Play is one of my favorite albums. It’s commercial, but who cares. It’s a damn good album. I think South Side with Gwen Stefani was the first song I heard on the album, and along with Run On, is my favorite.

I just wanted to add this one in because I hadn’t listened to Play in a while and enjoyed the hell out of it today.