If you are following this blog (doubtful, but I remain hopeful), this week marked my 50th birthday. There’s a hilarious post about it, but I can’t remember where I put it. They tell me to click the “Back” button.
A long, long time ago…
The day the music died. Is this metaphorical…? On the 134 Highway. Heading East. In traffic? Hahaha. Hang on…
And, I can remember how that music used to make me smile.
I am now a firmly middle-aged father. In a Prius. In the parking lot. Picking up a 3rd grader. At 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon. With the milk and eggs in the back. And, quite probably a case of maybe some wine. I can practically hear the guitar strumming. Pling.
Read nothing into that, hipsters, because that is not my point.
I know the tune. The melody. The whole song.
The next time you hear American Pie, listen to the bass the line. It is an absolute clinic in bass playing by Rob Stoner (neé Bob Rothstein, but Rob Stoner is the Best name of all early ’70s musicians. Maybe ever). By the 11th or 12th verse, he totally doesn’t care what the root of the chord is, he is writing a magically musical line of his own. It is brilliant.
Pianist Paul Griffin usually gets credit for giving American Pie its soul. And, he deserves the accolade. And, of course, the writer, Don McLean.
But, Rob Stoner drives that puppy home. Absolutely.
And then I read the news. My dear friend Ray Colcord died just a few months ago. He played on this album. I didn’t know he had done that until I started googling this post. In February, and it made me shiver. He had played on that Album. And then my eyes became a faucet… The day the music… you know…