Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out (1975) – Bruce Springsteen

Yesterday afternoon I was strolling on my way to check out a newly opened cultural centre and cinema called Lumina. I went to see The Mastermind, which was just released here two days ago. I’m already eyeing the new Springsteen biopic, set to launch there next Thursday – though, if the early critics are to be believed, it’s not exactly setting the world on fire.

Anyway, as I was approaching Lumina, today’s featured song came on my music player and quite literally put a spring in my step. Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out sounds unlike anything else on Born to Run, an album that still sits proudly in my top ten ‘all-time’ list. Where most of that record contains cinematic street epics and operatic rock, Tenth Avenue sounds like it belongs in a soul club on a Saturday night – which is apt given the day of this article’s release. It’s a song which tells a semi-mythic version of the formation of the E Street Band.

To my ears, the song’s sound is a cross between James Brown’s funk-voice and soul rhythm, and Motown’s driven pop – all filtered through Springsteen’s gritty Jersey poetry. My favourite moments are when Bruce hollers “I’m on my own” (kind of a prelude to how he commences – Racing in the Street on the next record) and then declares, “The Big Man joined the band!” – at which point Clarence Clemons takes over with a short saxophone solo that always makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

Springsteen met him in 1971 when Clemons came into a club called the Student Prince in Asbury Park, New Jersey, where Bruce was playing. It was a stormy night, and the door flew off the hinges when Clemons opened it. Springsteen would talk about how he “Literally blew the door off the place.”
Songfacts

Now, onto a personal story I never tire of telling – and please forgive me if you’ve heard it before. I was so spellbound by Born to Run in my youth that I handwrote an entire lyrics booklet for the album, complete with a little string to bind the pages together. Lyrics weren’t so easily accessible back then, so I transcribed what I thought Bruce was singing, like a devoted scribe of a great musical sermon. Alongside Mike Batt’s Tarot Suite (1979), Born to Run remains one of the most cherished albums of my youth.

Most of the following was abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
Springsteen stated in the Wings for Wheels documentary about the Born to Run record “I still have no idea what it means (Tenth Avenue). But it’s important.” The song’s protagonist, “Bad Scooter“, is a pseudonym for Springsteen himself (as indicated by the initials they share). The idea for the composition of the horn intro was Steven Van Zandt’s. The single was a chart dud, getting no higher than No. 83 on the Billboard in early 1976. But the song it’s said is one of his most popular live songs and has always had a strong following on album-oriented rock radio and amongst Springsteen’s fan base.

After Clemons’ death, Springsteen used the song as a memorial/tribute to both him and the late Danny Federici on the Wrecking Ball Tour, the first E Street Band tour without Clemons. During the song’s third verse of “Big Man joined the band“, Springsteen paused the song where Clemons’ sax solo would traditionally be performed while a video of Clemons and Federici played on the stage screens.

[Verse 1]
Tear drops on the city
Bad Scooter searching for his groove
Seem like the whole world walking pretty
And you can’t find the room to move
Well everybody better move over, that’s all
‘Cause I’m running on the bad side
And I got my back to the wall

[Chorus 1]
Tenth Avenue freeze-out
Tenth Avenue freeze-out

[Verse 2]
Well, I was stranded in the jungle
Tryin’ to take in all the heat they was giving
Till the night is dark but the sidewalks bright
And lined with the light of the living
From a tenement window a transistor blasts
Turn around the corner, things got real quiet real fast

[Chorus 2]
I walked into a Tenth Avenue freeze-out
Tenth Avenue freeze-out

[Bridge]
And I’m all alone, I’m all alone
And kid you better get the picture
And I’m on my own, I’m on my own
And I can’t go home

[Verse 3]
When the change was made uptown
And the Big Man joined the band
From the coastline to the city
All the little pretties raise their hands
I’m gonna sit back right easy and laugh
When Scooter and the Big Man bust this city in half

References:
1. Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out – Wikipedia

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A Serious Man (2009) – Joel and Ethan Coen (Friday’s Finest)

The brothers Joel and Ethan Coen have long stood among my favourite filmmakers, and their work has often featured here at Friday’s Finest. A Serious Man (2009) seems one of their lesser-known and most underrated films, yet I think it deserves greater recognition within film circles. I rewatched it recently after a long hiatus, and with a few more years under my middle-aged belt, I found it even more engaging – funny, tragic, and mystifying all at once.

Larry Gopnik, a Midwestern physics teacher, watches his life unravel over multiple sudden incidents. Despite seeking meaning and answers amidst his turmoils, he seems to keep sinking.

The film’s modus operandi follows a similar pattern to the Coens’ later Inside Llewyn Davis (2013): both feature a protagonist who bears a heavy cross, bewildered by the world’s indifference. As Ethan Coen once remarked, “It’s more interesting for me as an audience member to see a movie about a loser.” Allow me to digress – the antecedent link to my review of Llewyn Davis contains one of my first-ever posts on my blog, which, for anyone interested, details my hypothesis about the significance of the cats in the film, as well as the “record analogy” relating to its sequencing and storytelling.

Unlike Llewyn, which is a stark and humourless trudge through ankle-deep snow – and viewers of the film will appreciate that analogy – A Serious Man is a black comedy, one where I found myself chuckling at the most unexpected scenes (often, mind you), which I suppose is the aim of such a genre. However, the directors craftily balance the film like a tightrope walker on a high wire, between this futility-tinged comedy and its equally contemplative drama about Jewish life in the soulless Minnesotan suburbs of 1960s North America.

IMDB Storyline (includes Spoilers):

Bloomington, Minnesota, 1967: Jewish physics lecturer Larry Gopnik is a serious and a very put-upon man. His daughter is stealing from him to save up for a nose job; his pot-head son, who gets stoned at his own bar-mitzvah, only wants him round to fix the TV aerial and his useless brother Arthur is an unwelcome houseguest. But both Arthur and Larry get turfed out to a motel when Larry’s wife Judy, who wants a divorce, moves her lover Sy into the house and even after Sy’s death in a car crash they are still there. With lawyers’ bills mounting for his divorce, Arthur’s criminal court appearances, and a land feud with a neighbor, Larry is tempted to take the bribe offered by a student to give him an illegal exam pass mark. And the rabbis he visits for advice only dole out platitudes. Still God moves in mysterious–and not always pleasant–ways, as Larry and his family will find out.

The Coens themselves stated that the “germ” of the story was a rabbi from their adolescence: a “mysterious figure” who had a private conversation with each student at the conclusion of their religious education.Ethan Coen said that it seemed appropriate to open the film with a Yiddish folk tale, but as the brothers did not know any suitable ones, they wrote their own.


I’ve always been fascinated by the Jewish perception of life and its reflection in art and culture – whether in the music of Dylan and Cohen, the comedy of Seinfeld and Larry David, or the cinema of Woody Allen and the Coens. There’s something profoundly prophetic, even therapeutic, about the way Jewish thinkers turn suffering and doubt into art. I consider myself an agnostic Judeo-Christian of sorts – drawn to the metaphorical power of biblical archetypes, the divinity and sanctity of the individual through the “Logos,” and the idea of living as if God exists.

So if I wander off on tangents while writing this, it’s only fitting. After all, A Serious Man itself is about wandering through uncertainty – about our endless search for meaning in the inexplicable patterns of existence. Religion, in the Coens’ telling, offers little consolation. The rabbis’ platitudes sound hollow, their authority fragile. Yet this cynicism isn’t nihilistic; it’s human. Like the Book of Job, it asks: why do bad things happen to good people? And like Job, Larry receives no answer- only more mystery.

From the small towns of the old world to the quiet streets of suburbia, the hidden powers that shape our existence remain unfathomable. We like to think we grasp certain principles and attempt to live in harmony with them, yet often we’re simply deluding ourselves. Sooner or later – as the “serious man” learns the hard way — life strikes back, and without mercy. A demon might knock on your door, an accident could cut your story short, a sudden illness might appear, or a storm could rip everything away. There are rules governing such events, but they lie far beyond our reach – and the troubles we obsess over in the meantime are, in truth, trivial.

So therein lies the positive light I could muster from the film: that life and its significance can, to a large degree, be discerned through our individual senses – by how we govern our perception of what happens to us. The Coens suggest that even amid absurdity, grace is possible – not as divine intervention, but as a shift in consciousness. While we cannot control the universe, we can control our stance toward it.

References:
1. A Serious Man – Wikipedia
2. A Serious Man – IMDB

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This Charming Man (1983) – The Smiths

Where has all the wildness and daring got to? Some of it has found its way onto the Smiths’ record, ‘This Charming Man’. It jangles and crashes and Morrissey jumps in the middle with his mutant choir-boy voice, sounding jolly and angst-ridden at the same time. It should be given out on street corners to unsuspecting passers-by of all ages.”
–  The Face

Back to the apex of The Smiths with this classic early track – This Charming Man, their very second single after Hand in Glove. Woohoo! It’s one of the first songs I remember hearing by them and remains among my top ten favourites. It’s also arguably one of their most accessible and irresistibly catchy tunes – the kind I’d readily share with someone as an introduction to their music. Speaking of newcomers, I actually came to The Smiths – and Morrissey’s solo work – quite late in my musical journey. Oh, I’d heard them before, of course, but it wasn’t until a dear local friend, Tatiana – who’s all hip to UK punk and alternative music – finally got me revelling in their sound.

One of my favourite quotes about The Smiths’ is: “The Smiths are the band from the ’80s – most anti-’80s.” Much of their work (especially production wise) still sounds as modern, alternative, and progressive as anything being released today – and best of all, this rebel music still sounds f%#king awesome. If anything, time has been kinder to their music and legacy than to almost any other ’80s group – which says a lot about their musical acumen and creative genius. Between Morrissey’s unfamiliar yet yearning voice and transparent lyrical outpourings, and Johnny Marr’s jangly, metallic guitar textures, they crafted a wholly unique soundscape one that remains as provocative and vital as ever. Music like theirs helps fill the gaping void left by the increasingly hollow, “nothing” pop culture we find ourselves surrounded by today.

The following was mostly abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
This Charming Man was released on 31 October 1983 by the independent record label Rough Trade. It is defined by Marr’s jangly guitar riff and Morrissey’s characteristically morose lyrics, which revolve around the recurrent Smiths themes of sexual ambiguity and lust.

Feeling detached from the early 1980s mainstream gay culture, Morrissey wrote “This Charming Man” to evoke an older, more coded and self-aware underground scene. The singer said of the song’s lyrics: “I really like the idea of the male voice being quite vulnerable, of it being taken and slightly manipulated, rather than there being always this heavy machismo thing that just bores everybody.

Although only moderately successful on first release – the single peaked at number 25 on the UK Singles Chart- “This Charming Man” has been widely praised in both the music and mainstream press. Re-issued in 1992, it reached number 8 on the UK Singles Chart. Mojo magazine journalists placed the track at number 1 on their 2008 “50 Greatest UK Indie Records of All Time” feature.

[Verse 1]
Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet?
When in this charming car
This charming man
Why pamper life’s complexity
When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?
I would go out tonight
But I haven’t got a stitch to wear
This man said, “It’s gruesome
That someone so handsome should care”

[Chorus]
Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said, “Return the ring”
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things

[Verse 2]
I would go out tonight
But I haven’t got a stitch to wear
This man said, “It’s gruesome
That someone so handsome should care”
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na
This charming man
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na
This charming man

[Chorus]

References:
1. This Charming Man – Wikipedia

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Brooklyn Soundtrack (2015) – Score by Michael Brook

Last night, I watched a moving romantic period drama called Brooklyn, starring the wonderful Saoirse Ronan – whom you might remember from other standout performances in Lady Bird, Little Women, and The Grand Budapest Hotel. One of the aspects of the film I found especially touching was its soundtrack, which is the focus of today’s article. The original score, released on October 30, 2015, is a 39-minute orchestral work crafted to mirror the protagonist’s inner emotional journey. But first, the music needs a bit of context – so below is the film’s storyline.

IMDB Storyline:
Ireland, early 1950s. Eilis Lacey (Saoirse Ronan) is a young woman working in a grocery shop. She has greater ambitions and moves to Brooklyn, New York, leaving her mother and sister, Rose (Fiona Glascott), behind. She is terribly homesick but eventually settles down, finding a job, studying to be a bookkeeper and meeting a nice young Italian man, Tony Fiorello (Emory Cohen). Things are going well, but then she learns that Rose has died, and decides to return to Ireland, temporarily. She and Tony hastily get married, and then she sets off back to Ireland, alone. Life is about to get complicated.  

The film’s music, both score and soundtrack, plays a central role in storytelling, reflecting the protagonist’s internal conflict between her past in Ireland and her new life in Brooklyn. Composer Michael Brook aimed to create a score that was “emotional” yet “slightly unpredictable,” avoiding sentimentality while subtly underscoring the film’s emotional beats. He recorded the score at Abbey Road Studios with a large string section, using a manual piano instead of a sampled one for a more authentic feel. The score incorporates subtle instrumentation to evoke the contrast between Ireland and America, using mandolin in Irish scenes and clarinet and upright bass in American segments.

The score received critical acclaim for its emotional depth and subtlety, with critics praising its ability to evoke tears without manipulation. It was nominated for several awards, including the Canadian Screen Award for Best Original Score, which it won. 

In my articles discussing movie soundtracks, I usually highlight my favourite pieces from the film – as I’ve done below. Each piece is presented in my order of preference (not in the order they appear in the movie or on the soundtrack) and are as follows:

  • Proposal,
  • Rose Dies, and
  • Goodbye Ellis

References:
1. Music of Brooklyn (film) – Wikipedia

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All Night Long (All Night) 1983 – Lionel Richie

This is another one of those songs I heard endlessly growing up – and if you’d asked me back then whether I liked it, I’d have told you to take a flying jump. Maybe it was because it saturated the airwaves, or because the chorus “All Night Long” started to feel like it was taking all night long to get through, thanks to its relentless repetition towards the end. This kind of ultra-commercial ’80s pop was worlds away from my sacred Dylan and Springsteen immersion, so I completely tuned it out.

Fast forward 40 years, and there I am pedalling away in my spinning class when this song comes blasting through the speakers – and suddenly, I’m in second heaven. “Where have you been all my middle adult life?” I practically shouted at it and bopped on my stationary bike like a man possessed. Well, the song’s back now, making its long-overdue resurgence. Giddyup!

All Night Long is the ultimate party anthem from a bygone era – an international dance jam bursting with the percussive flair and festive spirit of world music. The song incorporates phrases from various languages to evoke a global party atmosphere. “Fiesta” is Spanish for “party,” “Karamu” is Swahili for “party” or “banquet,” and “Liming” is a Caribbean term for socializing.
The song’s composition was a process of trial and error, with Richie struggling to find the central hook for weeks. The breakthrough came when he was leaving a dinner at a friend’s house in Jamaica, saying he had to “go back and work all night long,” which provided the now-iconic chorus.

I love how the song goes off on tangents in different parts – it’s got not one but two pre-choruses besides the verses and post choruses, and the bridge is to die for, complete with glorious African gibberish. Richie admitted in interviews that he lacked the time to hire a translator for authentic African phrases, so he invented words like “Tam bo li de say de moi ya” and “Jambo jumbo,“. The music features layered backing vocals, including contributions from Richard Marx and other session singers, who were initially misled into believing they were singing in Swahili.

The song, released as the lead single from his 1983 album Can’t Slow Down, marked a shift from his earlier ballad style towards a more dance-oriented, pop-funk sound with strong Caribbean influences, blending his Commodores roots with calypso and reggae elements. It featured a large ensemble of session musicians, including several who had worked on Michael Jackson’s Thriller, contributing to its polished, percolating groove.

[Verse 1]
Well, my friends, the time has come
To raise the roof and have some fun
Throw away the work to be done
Let the music play on
Everybody sing, everybody dance
Lose yourself in wild romance

[Pre-Chorus 1]
We’re going to party, Karamu, fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along
We’re going to party, Karamu, fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along

[Chorus]
All night long (All night, all night, all night)
All night long (All night, all night, all night)
All night long (All night, all night, all night)
All night long (All night)
Oh, yeah (All night)

[Verse 2]
People dancing all in the street
See the rhythm all in their feet
Life is good, wild and sweet
Let the music play on
Feel it in your heart and feel it in your soul
Let the music take control

[Pre-Chorus 2]
We’re going to party, Liming, fiesta, forever
Come on and sing along
We’re going to party, Liming, fiesta, forever
Come on and sing my song

[Chorus]
All night long, oh (All night, all night)
All night long, yeah (All night, all night)
All night long, yeah (All night, all night)
All night long, ah (All night, all night)

[Verse 3]
Yeah, once you get started, you can’t sit down
Come join the fun, it’s a merry-go-round
Everyone’s dancing their troubles away
Come join our party, see how we play

[Bridge]
Tam bo li de say de moi ya
Yeah, Jambo, Jambo
Way to parti, o we goin’
Oh, jambali
Tam bo li de say de moi ya
Yeah, Jambo, Jambo
Oh, yes
We’re gonna have a party, yeah, uh

[Chorus]
All night long (All night, all night, all night)
All night long, yeah (All night, all night)
All night long (All night, all night, all night)
All night long, oh (All night, all night)

References:
1. All Night Long (All Night) – Wikipedia

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Live is Life (1984) – Opus (Ft. Maradona)

Today, we watch the most iconic warm-up in football history – Diego Maradona’s dance to Live is Life by the Austrian group Opus. I remember when I was 16, my father and I were up in the wee hours in Australia, about to watch the 1990 World Cup opener: Argentina versus Cameroon. I’ll never forget seeing, for the first time, the late Argentine football magician Maradona strutting his stuff in the warm up to that game.

(Just to clarify — the warm-up featured in today’s article is from another match playing vs Bayern Munich in the UEFA Cup, which I’ll get to shortly.)

My father and I just sat there, staring in stunned disbelief. To this day, Maradona is the only footballer I can recall who seemed to have the ball magnetically drawn to him – like a lost limb joyfully reuniting with its owner.

Now I live in football heartland – Colombia – where the sport is the country’s great passion, endlessly swooned over and debated until the commentators turn blue in the face. You might remember the horrific incident involving Colombian defender and captain Andrés Escobar, who scored an own goal at the 1994 World Cup and was murdered in his hometown of Medellín just five days after Colombia’s elimination from the tournament. There was a brilliant documentary made ESPN about the intersection of Colombian football with criminal activity called The Two Escobars. The other Escobar, of course, refers to the drug lord Pablo Escobar, who unleashed a wave of terror on Colombia the likes of which the country could never have imagined. The documentary showed how Andrés Escobar – a young man – lost his life over an honest mistake, and how football became stained by illegal money amid the nation’s tumultuous war on drugs.

Fast-forward to today, and the next World Cup in 2026 is fast approaching. Both my homeland, Australia, and my adopted home, Colombia, have qualified. My kids hold dual citizenship – Colombo-Australians, if you like. It frightens me to think what would happen if Australia and Colombia ended up in the same group – or faced each other later in the tournament. Who would my children barrack for? Basically, it feels like a small domestic crisis waiting to happen.

Now, back to today’s featured song – Live Is Life. I first heard it while watching the video below of Maradona strutting to it, performing football drills and skills that would make any fan (including yours truly) drool in admiration. It’s an iconic video from Maradona’s playing days (in terms of his legacy) – certainly comparable with his legendary 1986 World Cup goal of the century versus England where he took the ball from his own half and dribbled past 5 England players and went on to beat goalkeeper Peter Shilton with a feint before slotting the ball into the net. On the topic of football documentaries – for you football nuts out there – there’s another fantastic one when former England player Gary Lineker visited Maradona in Argentina.

Opus, the band behind Live is Life, was formed in Graz, Austria in 1973. They began as a rock group playing local clubs before breaking through internationally in the mid-1980s. Live is Life was recorded during a live concert in 1984 and captured the spirit of that moment perfectly – the audience clapping in time, the energy of the crowd feeding the song’s infectious rhythm. The song became an unexpected global hit, topping charts across Europe and reaching the top 40 in the United States. And for me, it will always bring back the image of Diego Maradona smiling, swaying and performing magic on that pitch.

References:
1. Live Is Life – Wikipedia

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Thinking About You (2007) – Norah Jones

It’s Norah Jones, not ‘Snorer’ Jones – right! So lets just leave the shenanigans behind shall we? But I will say, today’s featured track is a nice one to curl up to on a lazy Sunday morning with a warm cup of chocolate. Her breezy, catchy sound and relaxed demeanour bring to mind the Mexican singer-songwriter Julieta Venegas, whom I also featured not too long ago. Norah’s music has often been pigeon-holed as lounge jazz – a style I wasn’t too keen on back when Don’t Know Why was everywhere. But I’ve warmed to it a bit more as I’ve mellowed with age – much like one does when new hairs grow increasingly fond of appearing in places least expected, and less so in the ones I’d prefer.

Thinking About You drifts along with those chilled-out jazz sounds – a bit of laid-back soul, and jazzy horn countermelodies thrown in for good measure. Norah takes the departure of her lover as lucidly and sweetly as she can, cradled by feelings of longing and a lingering connection with her special someone. The composition unfolds slowly and deliberately, creating a tender, intimate atmosphere for the listener. It’s a wonderfully relaxed sound – quietly affecting.

Despite the song’s easy, laid-back feel, it was actually a long time in the making. Norah wrote it way back in 1999 with Ilhan Ersahin, her then-bandmate in Wax Poetic. She said the song had “always been in the back of my mind“, but she thought it was too much of a pop song for her and preferred if someone else were to record it. According to the producer, she “found a way to make it work” during the recording of Not Too Late.

Thinking About You was released as the lead single from for her third studio album Not Too Late (2007). In the US it reached number 82 on the Billboard, but wait for it – (drumroll please) it peaked atop the Adult Alternative Songs, becoming her Jones’ third consecutive number-one. Giddy-up.

Yesterday I saw the sun shining
And the leaves were fallin’ down softly
My cold hands needed a warm, warm touch
And I was thinkin’ about you

But here I am lookin’ for signs to lead me
You hold my hand, but do you really need me?
I guess it’s time for me to let you go
But I’ll be thinkin’ about you
I’ll be thinkin’ about you

So when you sail across the ocean waters
And you reach the other side safely
Could you smile a little smile for me?
‘Cause I’ll be thinkin’ about you
I’ll be thinkin’ about you
I’ll be thinkin’ about you
I’ll be thinkin’ about you

References:
1. Thinking About You (Norah Jones song) – Wikipedia

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More Than a Feeling (1976) – Boston

“The power an old song can have in your life”

– What Boston’s website says about the song

Back then, the radio played this kind of great music all day long. Well, so they tell me – since I was only two years old at the time. More Than a Feeling is one of those songs I hadn’t heard in aeons until it popped up in my YouTube feed under one of those “Listening to for the first time” videos that are all the rage these days (and which, more often than not, want to make me barf). I’m glad I clicked on this one though, because it reunited me with this ‘70s rock classic. And the “listener” in question – DeaDevi – happens to be a pretty good singer herself (check out a snippet of her cover of Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez).

Few songs capture the euphoria of hearing music that completely sweeps you away quite like More Than a Feeling. That’s the irony and the genius of it – it’s a song about the transcendent feeling of losing yourself in music, yet it creates that same feeling in real time. Watching DeaDevi tear up while listening almost feels like the song gazing at its own reflection – she’s reacting to the very emotion the song was written to evoke. A bit trippy, right? It’s like that hall of mirrors scene in Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon – music reflecting emotion reflecting music until you can’t tell which is which.

To my ears, the first verse and chorus are the song’s crowning moment – that soaring crescendo of guitar and harmony that hits like a burst of sunlight. From there, it has nowhere higher to climb. I’m not saying the rest is filler – far from it – but the song kind of peaks early. After that, it coasts along never quite reaching those dizzying heights again except in brief patches. Plenty of great rock songs take the slow-burn approach – building tension, layering emotion, and saving the knockout punch for the finale. Think of Dire Straits’ Tunnel of Love, which finishes with arguably the greatest guitar solo in the history of rock. But More Than a Feeling isn’t about restraint, rather it’s about that sudden rush – the moment the music hits and lifts us somewhere beyond words.

It took Tom Scholz, the principal guitarist and founder and only remaining member of the band Boston, more five years to write More Than a Feeling. He worked on it in his basement from 1968 to 1975, before Boston got its record contract. He wrote the lyrics based on the idea of losing someone close, and on the way in which music can connect a person to memories of the past. Scholz credits Walk Away Renee by The Left Banke as the song’s main inspiration.

More Than a Feeling was released as the lead single from American band Boston’s debut album. It peaked at no. 5 on the Billboard. The track is now ofcourse a staple of classic rock radio, and in 2008, it was named the 39th-best hard rock song of all time by VH1. It was included in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame list of the “500 Songs That Shaped Rock and Roll“.

[Verse 1: Brad Delp]
I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away

[Chorus: All]
It’s more than a feeling (More than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (More than a feeling)
And I begin dreaming (More than a feeling)
‘Til I see Marianne walk away


[Post-Chorus: Brad Delp]
I see my Marianne walkin’ away

[Verse 2: Brad Delp]
So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky

[Chorus: All]

[Verse 3: Brad Delp]
When I’m tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
And dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away

References:
1. More Than a Feeling – Wikipedia

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Casi un Hechizo (1992) – Jerry Rivera

The baby of salsa is back! Jerry Rivera’s music almost single-handedly brought romantic salsa to a worldwide audience in the 1990s. Influenced by his musically gifted parents and mentored by icons like Frankie Ruiz, the Puerto Rican’s breakthrough came with the album Cuenta Conmigo (1992) – one of the best-selling salsa records in history, which also features today’s track. Unlike the hard-edged salsa dura of the previous generation, Rivera’s style softened the genre’s toughness with melody, tenderness, and sentiment – making him not only a hitmaker but a cultural bridge between salsa’s golden era and its romantic revival.

When I first came to Colombia back in 2009, Jerry Rivera was one of the first Latin artists whose music I instantly connected with. To this day, his songs are still a staple on Colombian airwaves. I feel a real nostalgia toward tracks like Casi un Hechizo – not just for their charm, but because they remind me of my early days immersing myself in Latin culture and its vibrant, animated life.

My project already features quite a few Jerry Rivera tracks – such is my fondness for his music. He’s often regarded as the prince of salsa romántica, or salsa rosa, a subgenre that emerged in the mid-1980s. The “rose” in salsa rosa is a fitting symbol – delicate, fragrant, and romantic. These songs lean toward themes of love, seduction, and emotional longing, painting softer portraits of masculinity compared to the fiery energy of salsa brava or salsa clásica. Critics sometimes dismiss this style of salsa as “watered down,” saying it’s made less for the dance floor than for a slow, lingering embrace. But hey, that doesn’t sound so bad to me.

Casi un Hechizo captures that magnetic pull between two lovers – one that borders on the supernatural, as though love itself has cast a spell. It tells of a man completely captivated by the magical presence of his partner. Every glance, every word she speaks, enchants him further. Her love holds such power that he can no longer tell whether he’s living in reality or within her spell. Casi un Hechizo becomes Rivera’s declaration of devotion and surrender – a celebration of how love can blur the line between the spiritual and the physical.

[Intro]
Mi amor, una vez más soñé contigo
Y a la verdad, necesito decirte

[Pre-Coro]
Mira mis manos, tiemblan así por ti
Sé que tiemblas por mí
Siento el encanto de una noche entre tus brazos
Ven y dame al fin de tu amor, de tu corazón
Que ya es hora de ser feliz
Mira mis ojos, brillan así por ti
Te deseo a morir
Mira la gente, mira la gran ciudad
Se detienen por ti y por mí si nos ven besar
Sonriendo dirán: “Qué par de locos”

[Coro]
Darme un beso así
Es ir al paraíso
Es casi un hechizo
Darme un beso así
Me llena de calma
Me llega hasta el alma

[Verso 1]
Mira mis labios, acércate un poco más, de manera casual
Muerde un suspiro, aprovecha mi descuido
Ven, bésame sin dudar
Sin hablar, dame más calor
Lléname de tu amor
Te necesito

[Coro]

[Refrán]
Dame un beso así
Que me llegue hasta el alma y me haga perder la calma
Dame un beso así
Que lo que esconden tus labios quiero descubrir
Dame un beso así
Llévame hasta el paraíso
Dame un beso así
Porque yo quiero ser parte de tu dulce hechizo
Dame un beso así
Oye, tu boca en mi boca quisiera tener
Dame un beso así
Mira que brillan mis ojos y te deseo, mujer

[Refrán]
Dame un beso así
Bésame ahora mismo aunque hable la gente
Dame un beso así
Si estamos locos de amor, que comenten
Dame un beso así
Necesito de tu amor, lléname de tu calor
Dame un beso así
Que no exista la duda de que este amor es una locura
Dame un beso así
Acércate niña linda que yo te quiero sentir
Dame un beso así
Y si notas que yo tiemblo, estoy temblando por ti
Dame un beso así
Dame agua de tu fuente, estoy sediento de ti
Dame un beso así
No me hagas desfallacer, dame un beso, please

References:
1. Jerry Rivera – Wikipedia

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Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd (2022) – Lana Del Rey

The lyrics contain strong language. Reader / listener discretion is advised.

“What can I say! I’m so grateful to be present and feeling effervescent today…With a mind full of violets and a forehead warmed by the sun as I pray in the garden.”

– From a typewritten letter Lana wrote to release her new album Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd.

I’ve listened to my fair share of Lana Del Rey over the past couple of years as a relatively new fan, and her songs have been coming out here like hotcakes – something I don’t see abating anytime soon. Let me just say it: today’s featured track, Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, stands above just about any other song I’ve heard from her, showcasing her melancholic beauty and cinematic sound all in one package. It’s a bit like Dostoevsky’s short story White Nights – a perfect gateway into his world. If you like White Nights, you’ll likely love Dostoevsky; if you don’t, probably not. The same goes for this song and Lana’s artistry – to me, it’s a full immersion into who she is as an artist.

Did You Know… carries a melodic and lyrical lucidity that feels utterly original. Lana weaves an atmosphere that’s both intimate and vast. She seems to be expressing herself as if she was a by-product of her place and the inherent materialism associated with our age – yet determined to transcend it through the alchemy of her own voice, talent, and sexuality. In that sense, she’s not unlike Argentinian artist Nathy Peluso, both of whom are reshaping the modern musical landscape as we speak, through fearless self-expression and artful provocation.

I don’t know why, but as soon as this song unravels into the chorus, I feel that lump in my throat, the eyes becoming watery. It’s irrepressible, quintessential Lana Del Rey – that Americana music whispered from the static of a dying radio. It’s the same reaction I get when she sings, “America, I need a miracle,” in Arcadia – pure cinematic yearning. To me, Lana’s like an old siren from a 1950s screen who’s drifted into the modern world.

The following was abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
Lana shared that the song and title Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd were inspired by a sealed tunnel under the Jergins Trust Building in Long Beach, California, and a 1974 track by Harry Nilsson titled Don’t Forget Me. She had read that “the [tunnel’s] mosaic ceilings were still perfectly preserved, but no one could get in“, and was compelled to write a song inspired by Nilsson’s track using her own metaphors.

The song is the title track and lead single from Lana’s ninth studio album. Commercially, the album topped the record charts in eight countries and reached the top-five in over 20 countries, including the United States, where it peaked at number three on the US Billboard. Work on the album started shortly after the release of her eighth studio album, Blue Banisters, in October 2021. 

In the album Lana departed from her signature colorful language and world-building, found in her other work, in favor of a conversational style. The album is an Americana and alt-pop album by experimenting with a fusion of ‘Seventies FM piano pop’, hip-hop, and dance production, as well as influences of gospel, folk, trap, electro-jazz, soul, and psychedelic music. Del Rey called the creation of the album “totally effortless“, saying that she wanted the music to have “a spiritual element“.

“If people think my music is good it’s because there’s other people involved in the songs and in the process of making it. So many people” 

– With 16 tracks, the album includes collaborations with everyone from Father John Misty to Bleachers, Tommy Genesis to Jon Batiste.

[Verse 1]
Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard?
Mosaic ceilings, painted tiles on the wall
I can’t help but feel somewhat like my body marred my soul
Handmade beauty sealed up by two man-made walls

[Pre-Chorus]
And I’m like
When’s it gonna be my turn?
When’s it gonna be my turn?

[Chorus]
Open me up, tell me you like it
Fuck me to death, love me until I love myself
There’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard
Therе’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulеvard

[Verse 2]
There’s a girl who sings “Hotel California”
Not because she loves the notes or sounds that sound like Florida
It’s because she’s in a world, preserved, only a few have found the door
It’s like Camarillo, only silver mirrors, running down the corridor

[Pre-Chorus]
Oh, man
When’s it gonna be my turn?
Don’t forget me
When’s it gonna be my turn?

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Harry Nilsson has a song, his voice breaks at 2:05
Something about the way he says “Don’t forget me” makes me feel like
I just wish I had a friend like him, someone to give me five
Lennon in my back, whisperin’ in my ear
“Come on, baby, you can thrive”
But I can’t

[Pre-Chorus]
When’s it gonna be my turn?
Don’t forget me
When’s it gonna be my turn?

[Chorus]

References:
1. ‘Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd’ – Rolling Stone
2. Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd – Wikipedia

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