Lots of interesting (if pointless) bests I encountered today:
Sound Opinions asked for the best live album ever a few weeks back. Jay-Z Unplugged got a white boy from Missouri interested in hip-hop, but there isn’t much cooler than the electric version of Like A Rolling Stone that Bob Dylan cranks out after a stunned audience member calls him “Judas.”
Which brings to mind one of my favorite hypotheticals: if you could see any band live, in their prime, who would it be? I pick The Who.
He could move fast, and the back porch gave onto the kitchen, and before the screen door had banged shut behind him the Daddy had taken the scene in whole, the overturned pot on the floortile before the stove and the burner’s blue jet and the floor’s pool of water still steaming as its many arms extended, the toddler in his baggy diaper standing rigid with steam coming off his hair and his chest and shoulders scarlet and his eyes rolled up and mouth open very wide and seeming somehow separate from the sounds that issued, the Mommy down on one knee with the dishrag dabbing pointlessly at him and matching the screams with cries of her own, hysterical so she was almost frozen.