• Rating:
I'm traveling on Route 66 with my stolen black '72 Cadillac, the wind in my hair, my travel companions nursing a hangover from poor quality whiskey, and if it weren't for the seat holding them up a bit, they'd have collapsed to the floor ages ago. The road signs kindly inform me that there are still 47 miles to go to New Jersey. I check the gas and brilliantly deduce that we won't go much further. The bit about my drunk companions and the car asking for a drink could be a clever metaphor, a parallel with mankind along the lines of "those who have bread don't have teeth" and such, but it won't be.
Suddenly, I see a gas station, probably sent by God to save my ass. Thank you, God, for not making me push this heap in the middle of the desert, with 4 drunks inside. Thank you. One day I'll return the favor. After all, you know yourself that Jesus died for someone else's sins. I gather up the change and give the junk some beer, which thanks me with a puff. Suddenly, I notice this kind of biker pub next to the station, you know, with saloon doors that seem straight out of a John Wayne movie, you know what I mean? I decide to go in to refresh my tired limbs, tested by a journey across America that feels like a lifetime, and maybe it is. I enter and see this breathtaking redhead serving drinks at the counter and my heart stops for what might have been 2 seconds or three hours. I come to, approach the counter, light a cigarette, she turns to me. She already loves me. She comes closer and says...
"You can't smoke here."
What?
"I love you Maria"
"My name is Virginia"
"I call all the girls I meet Maria, but I'm only in love with Virginia. Always have been"
In the end, she lets me keep the cigarette, makes me a double whiskey as the conversation continues with talk like "Baby, I've got nothing to tell you but that story about the sound the rain makes on the floor.." but I don't know, she doesn't seem very interested. After a while, I go, "Listen baby, I came to dance with you. Let's throw a party here tonight, bring all your friends and let's have fun. I know I'm not the only one who hates being alone."
The night goes divinely. We dance all night to the notes of this ragtag band, with a singer who looks like Beckham after leaving Victoria and shacking up with Courtney Love, I'm with Maria, Virginia, or whoever she was, my friends get drunk again, while a dense, atmospheric smoke envelops the place. In the end, I kiss Maria (or Virginia?), tell her we'll meet again, and tell my friends "Brothers, if you want, you can sleep, I'm good to drive."
That's how I imagine the music of Gaslight Anthem. A generational anthem for the wrong generation. And this 4-track EP is their best expression.
Loading comments slowly
