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Matthew Scott--Keyboards, drums (ah, that one wanged-out filtery semi-train-like part kills!); John Pfeifer--vocal, electric guitar, bass, music/lyrics
Free
Alternative - Indie
Charts #8 today (peak #6)
Charts #3 in subgenre today (peak #1)
John Pfeifer
1988, John Pfeifer
November 20, 2004
MP3 3.7 MB
128 kbps bitrate
0:00 minutes
Story behind the song
One of the many songs from eons ago (here being 1988/'89) that somehow have not yet made the transisition -- we're lazy, ok? -- from our old mp3.com site, and one of a handful that we think really are worth the trouble. So much worth it that we'd like to redo it, now that we semi-understand what we're doing at the ol' mixing desk[another upcoming "lost session" is "Ride in the Country," also in some midst of being redone. Also, can't forget one of our absolute all-time favs (an UPLIFTING TUNE!!-- INSPIRATIONAL/MOTIVATIONAL EVEN!! Say it isn't so!!), "Don't Let the Weasels Win," ca. '86/'87; probably won't redo that one, but imagine if you dare an eol tune that'll fit into the Country genre somehow! Anyway...]. Well, let the music speak for itself, but the lyrics we are quite proud of, being that they were probably the first concrete -- as opposed to abstract -- concept we'd devised. Meaning that there's a discernible, straightforward story being told, free of our usual obscure in-references and non-sequiturs (ala "Mark...Sandwich). The story is simple and we thought at the time clever: a man with a college age son is marrying a woman with a college age daughter. The youths barely know each other by name, much less consider the other the way actual siblings do (i.e., have decided they loathe each other without even taking the time to try to connect). There's a vague allusion that previous impressions of each other were less than earthshaking. A back story not quite expanded on (JP originally intended for this to be a short story, before he said "Hey, wait, I do happen to write songs, don't I?...") is that the man is accepting a job in California, from where his bride-to-be hails, and they decide to wed in California, whence they'll set-up a homestead. The kids, then, have to drive together from Colorado or some such (the girl had to drive her Dodge all the way up to pick up the man's son, completely looking forward to the awkward and uncomfortable ride home -- NOT!) to California, back thru Arizona (we made sure to include detailed references to Route 66, with which John had a nostalgic semi-obsession at the time). Well, the mostly silent and tense ride ends as the old Dodge goes belly-up, and they're forced to share a cabin at the Frontier Motor Lodge (yes, an actual place). The forced co-habitation, lubricated with some vino and magically-hued sunlight, leads inexorably to walls being broken down between the two, and a romantic epiphany ensues. Whether or not there was any...well, you know... "further developments" is the only thing we leave to the listener to decide (but you could also say that the outcome/obstacles obviously faced afterward are also never resolved or touched on more than fleetingly). Man, if we do say so ourselves, that is a really good storyline. Anyway, enjoy!!
Lyrics
It slightly hurts when you can't love the one you love, because they wouldn't understand. No, you didn't ask for things to be as they stand today, and you never told Pops to give away another wedding-band. It doesn't matter that you only met her once: when Daddy proudly brought her Mommy home (when he brought her home) It happened in July, if memory serves you well, on a stretch of 66 east of Valentine. Well, the Arizona sun had it out with the Dodge, and it was clear you'd never get to your "parents'" wedding on time... You trudged your way to Truxton for the night two souls brought closer by their weary flight to her home... You never realized the pain it'd cost from the time of your first kiss; you never caught the catch that would catch you in your bliss... You found the Frontier Motor Lodge and you copped yourselves a room: the last unit in the cabin on the right. It must have been something in the wine she bought across the street, or in the way her skin caught the fading light... Well, it was funny how you moved closer both at once, and you talked of lives spent living in different homes... ...when it all was over, neither said a single word; you simply passed your feelings eye to eye. And as she kissed your lips again, your hand lit on her arm, unaware that you were painting desperate lives... .............................. It doesn't matter that your hearts bleed different blood -- they'll never stand for "such behavior" in the home -- No, not in "The Home"!
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