In honor of AA, whose unceasing efforts to provide us with a graphical accompiament brighten each and every Yankees game. And who is the only other person I know besides my cousin Marilyn who remembers the words to this song...with an incredible solo by Robert Fripp.
Tuesday, July 21, 2026
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4 comments:
Count me in on members who not only know that song, but occasionally played it in horrible garage bands in Yonkers over 45 years ago. Eno, Fripp and Eno and the whole galaxy of satellite musicians somehow dovetailed into my standard Stones, Hendrix, Allmans, Marley, Dub constellation - somehow - seamlessly. I sometimes miss the 70s and 80s. Oh yeah, don't forget Crimson.
Ah, yes, Crimson. What amazing music they turned out in the 70s.
Crimson still the king.
I’m forever thankful, JM that you zeroed in on the Eno reference instead of the Brady Bunch.
I promise never to quote John Valby . . . (well - never say never)
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