i hate the sound of guitars

One of the reasons I never turned into a “real” music writer is that sometimes I get stuck, especially when a piece of music really hits me hard. I want to write about it badly, but because I lack clarity and objectivity, it takes a long time to come up with anything worth reading (and any relevant deadline would surely be long past).

So maybe the most useful thing I can about “Mom and Dad Play Rock’n'Roll” is that listening to it makes tears well up in my eyes more than anything I can remember since Wilco’s Being There. I do think the song has ample quality in non-subjective terms. The lyric examines the plight of gracelessly aging amateur rockers with an odd mix of precision and compassion. The arrangement is masterful — I’m especially fond of the way the bass comes in at 1:11, right before “move the boxes, find the Gibson, dusty rust along the strings,” and the Cheap Trick-ish doubling of the last word of “your neighbors come to watch the house, and New York’s just two hours away.” I even learned to love the (thematically appropriate) fade out/fade back in and ramshackle finale.

It’s painfullly obvious to me, though, that part why this song cranks up my waterworks is because I, personally, have been wondering lately if I’ve already played my last show. The lyrics are all about the possibility of putting a band together again — but the chord progression knows that the possibility will remain forever unfulfilled.

It’s also worth mentioning that the album this song is from, Class Dismissed also features “Outbored Motor Boys,” the single best Bob Pollard pastiche I’ve ever heard.

Hat tip to Brian Block for hipping me to Krieger to start with.