Sometimes the best rock'n'rollers aren't the most mature of the bunch. Maybe that's what makes them the best. I always seemed to end up the band leader. If I was generally the responsible one, that should tell you something.
Besides filing union contracts and seeing that Econoline payments were made on time I was usually the one to make set lists. No, I was always the one making out set lists. The benefit was, of course, I never had to play anything I didn't like.
In my mind there was never any place in music for slow songs. They're sad. Boring. I always picked up the needle and skipped right over Dearest Darling when Dr. Diddley got there. In order to fill out four sets I would usually have to slip in the slow ones. A few of them. I would always try to space them out four fast, one slow.
Something happened. Well, the obvious happened. I got old. They warned me but I never believed it. Now, more often than not, I play solo. When I bother, or pretend to myself to bother, with a set list, it's pretty much all slow songs. All sad.
Folks began asking me fifteen or twenty years ago why I write such dark songs. Sad songs. Maybe I would have never noticed. At first I tried to explain that most of it was just black humor. I don't hack people up.
Sad? Sometimes. Mostly I just ran a little low on joy. Love grows in the dark, too.
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