I've heard that song, which I really like by the way, so much lately, covered by someone, performed in concert on PBS for a nostalgic audience by the old but identical-sounding Zombies, or on TV in a car/drug/phone commercial, that I'm almost sick of it.
"But she's not there!"
More evidence. I own a copy of George Harrison's solo triple album "All Things Must Pass" - not the vinyl but the CD set issued thirty years later with altered cover art, new liner notes, and additional tracks added by the older Harrison who was not long for this world. Not only do I own it but I listen to it and respond to it's over-produced wall of sound, against all reason, like getting the willies from hearing a Puccini aria and not understanding a word of Italian, but still.
Certain tracks, the predictable ones, still speak to me in the same ways they always did, both viscerally and spiritual, if that's possible, and no one can tell me it's not. The first few songs on Disc 2 - Beware of Darkness, Apple Scruffs, Let It Roll, and the knockout punch, Awaiting on You All. I'm a product of my time, and I guess cultural forces (whatever that means) have a real and lasting effect on individuals, try as they might to get outside them.
Don't the songs take themselves a little too seriously?
It can hit you, it can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for
Yet others hold up pretty well...
Let it roll across the floorI confess, in this confessional space, that songs from 1970 still ring true; that the extreme reverb in recordings by the villainous Phil Spector still shake me up somatically; that I still respect the quiet Beatle; and against all reason still buy into his transcendent vibe.
Through the hall and out the door
To the fountain of perpetual mirth
Let it roll for all it's worth
Let it roll
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