The Winter of My Discontent

For some time I've pondered the strangeness of aging while retaining the interests of a much younger person. When you're a baby boomer, and the music scene provided the backdrop to daily life, rock songs from 40 or more years ago still resonate. Will this always be the case? Will I be languishing in the Boston rocker with the ratty shawl over my shoulders and still thrill to songs from the British Invasion or Stax? All indications are that could happen.

It's the first day of winter, and although it's unseasonably warm today, I need a project that will engage me through the horrific grind that is a midwest winter. So I was trolling around on YouTube, where it's always one marvel after the other, and it got me to thinking: of the zillions of songs that have provided the soundtrack to my life, which ones would qualify for a special list - recordings I wish I'd been in the studio for when the bands just nailed it to perfection?

People often lament not having been at one concert or the other, and I am no exception. But the reality is, unless it's the most intimate venue imaginable, most concerts are crap if it's the music you're there for. I want to have been a fly on the wall of the studio at that exalted moment when the song was truly born and the musicians achieved nirvana, for themselves and for those who call themselves fans. I'll begin with the song that gave me the idea.