Moving Out - Billy Joel
I'd taken off my tuxedo print t-shirt, eaten something from a can by Crosse & Blackwell, chewed on a stick of Juicy Fruit, poured myself a Pernod and orange and popped in a VHS of
Arthur 2: On the Rocks when I started musing on
Noel Coward's theory about the potency of cheap music.
At least I think it was Noel Coward. It could have been Chris De Burgh.
Billy Joel, pug-faced Piano Man, and his very own
E Street Bland; the musical equivalent of an oil painting of a crying clown; the prince of bluecollar bathos. It's gloopy, rich and irresistible, like
the 99 cent shrimp cocktail or the House Rose with the Italian name that's bottled in Chanadaigua, NY.
My silk pyjamas are starting to itch.
> Download this (3.2 MB)