When folks attempt to compliment me on my "encyclopedic knowledge" of rock'n'roll I find myself blushing and shuffling. Honestly I'm not good with compliments anyway but in this particular case it's just wrong. Oh, I can rattle off Elvis' army serial number, ( US 53310761 ), and I can tell you about Little Richard's "girlfriend." What I can't do is give you the matrix number off the 78 rpm pressing of Rock Around The Clock. I don't know when the Sex Pistols broke up.
I'm not one of those guys. When I play the music that I love on the radio I'm playing the stuff that I care about. For the most part it's the same stuff that my mom brought home to me. I know about this music because it has been my life. I've never bothered filling up my gyrus and my sulcus with important information. There's very little intellectual data stored in there. Sit next to me at a dinner party and you're gonna get Big Joe Turner stories.
The love and the rock'n'roll run together for me. I love you.
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