Saturday Vinyl (Part 2)

Phase Two of this afternoon’s Autumn listening project while mommy sleeps and I procrastinate from cutting the lawn, is the ‘Luxury Liner‘  album by Emmylou Harris.

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Emmylou is one of my (many) guilty pleasures, except I don’t really feel guilty about it so, yeah, I guess that just makes it a pleasure then…period.

I’m okay with that.

Judge me as you see fit.

Luxury Liner‘  ranks as Emmylou’s best-selling solo record to date (1976), and it’s one of her most engaging efforts as well; her Hot Band is in peak form, and the songs are even more far afield than usual, including Chuck Berry’s ‘(You Never Can Tell) C’est la Vie‘, Townes Van Zandt‘s painterly tale of aging outlaws, ‘Pancho & Lefty‘, and what’s an Emmylou Harris album without a Gram Parsons cover or two (‘She‘ and ‘Luxury Liner‘)?

Actually, all the tracks are covers, save one (‘Tulsa Queen‘)…but those are the big four.

It’s no surprise to me that I was going to like the album, but I was kind of surprised to hear HRH  chime in how much she enjoyed it as well.  I thought she was zoned out on whatever it is that she does with that iPad-thingee, but I guess she was paying some real attention.  Of course, she also wanted to know why I like my “girl music” so much but, hey, good music is just good music, what can I say?

And this, is good music.

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About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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