Mood:
lyricalTopic: "Wicked Pickett"
As the "Greatest Generation" faced it's greatest challenge, another little baby was born. A quarter of a century later, that baby would record a song that captured the emotional sensuality which separated generations. Within another quarter-century he would appear in a movie that chronicled the physical sensitivity which divided his generation from those to follow. During the final fifteen years of the life that ended today, Wilson Pickett would join the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame, and his rhythmic revolution would encompass wax, and tape, and the disc drive. Frodo knows, however, that no "I-Pod" will ever capture the heat, the drive, to the midnight hour.
Frodo passed from youth to middle age the night that Elvis died, and this evening he knows he has to slow that mustang down.
Frodo understands why young people go to concerts, and to night clubs, because their music will chronicle their time, too. Frodo and Wilson Pickett own the Midnight Hour, the pimply-faced little bastards can plug in their personal "tunes" and they have dibs on the 4-6 AM time slot. They'll never understand what they missed. Frodo is glad he didn't.
Posted by loveysdaddyga
at 8:10 PM EST
