This is one of those moments where I had a post all lined up for today and then, last night, I heard something awesome.
I’m immediately back in a rickety old pick-up truck; black on the outside with orange and yellow stripes you would find only in the 70s or 80s. I remember bumpy, dirt roads and the bouncing red/green/orange lights of an old equalizer, haphazardly jammed up under the dash. The inside was grimy, the outside covered in dust, and the rides were always fast and rough.
This was the jam truck.
The jam truck was often the highlight of our weekend visits with my dad. He and I have never had the best of relationships, but I can never deny the influence of my time with him, in that truck and elsewhere, on my tastes in music. From an appreciation of “classic rock” (and, in my mind, that still means rock from the 70s), to the strong feelings that four guitars is not too many, to the constant flavor of twang, folk, Southern rock, and Americana in my musical choices, his stamp is there.
This track is reminiscent of the loud rock he would often play in my presence as a child, of the music I’d find when I’d sit alone and dig through his stacks of records.
The band is High Spirits. The track is called I Will Run. And, though I’m sure it’s obvious in the first few seconds, be sure to turn it up.
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