Late-morning greetings to all.
This is the third straight morning I've woken up singing one of the new U2 songs. This morning, it was "A Man and A Woman." Yesterday, it was "City of Blinding Lights." Wednesday, it was "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own."
A sign of how much my subconscious enjoys the album? Possibly.
I expect this will be a three-post Friday. Expect some early-afternoon poetry, and perhaps, just perhaps, the "official" review this evening. You can probably guess where I'm leaning, but I'll be fair and (wait for it) ...balanced, about it. So hopefully, it will be useful, instead of a puff piece.
So, for personal inspiration, I'll leave you with the wise words of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, as Lester Bangs, in "Almost Famous":
"You CANNOT make friends with the rock stars. That's what's important. If you're a rock journalist - first, you will never get paid much. But you will get free records from the record company. And they'll buy you drinks, you'll meet girls, they'll try to fly you places for free, offer you drugs... I know. It sounds great. But they are not your friends. These are people who want you to write sanctimonious stories about the genius of the rock stars, and they will ruin rock and roll and strangle everything we love about it."
Peace out, homies.