It belongs in every record collection. Twenty years ago, before vinyl had made its revival, whenever I found out that someone still had vinyl I would bet them that I could in three guesses name at least one of the albums in their collection. I always guessed this one, Carole King's Tapestry (which will be in this virtual collection) and Frampton Comes Alive. I rarely lost.
This album reminds me of a very acid-drenched night in August of 1989, or rather, the next morning. Glen and I were living in the then high crime east side of St. Paul, in the Hillbilly Haven, and on that night I met Nick Nelson for the first time. He and his buddy Paul had driven out from the Bay Area (they were the Two Rounded Tablespoons) and we had an epic bash that night. I won't bore you with the details.
When the morning came, we divided in to two camps to... for some reason.. venture out. I hung with my buddy Matt and my girlfriend Autumn and we went swimming at Lake Phalen and then went to Matt's house... really, his mom's house... and she made us pancakes. She didn't know we were trippin' (though, honestly, I imagine she suspected) and while we ate them we put this album on.
I have listened to it so many times since then, but that morning is so close I can touch it.
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