Tramps Like Us and We Like Tramps

I spent the end of last week in the bustling metropolis of Columbus, Ohio.  While my Thursday was spent congregating with thousands to bear witness to Band of Horses and Pearl Jam***, Friday involved a quick trip to the thrift store.  While we unsuccessful in our attempt to find a cheap couch for Dan, we found a surprisingly decent amount of vinyl gems mixed in with hundreds of castoffs from the likes of Mitch Miller and various mid-60's man bands.

I was pleased with my take from the lot.  The Goulet purchase was a 50-cent investment in kitsch, and the Mellencamp purchases were fueled by a mixture of good fortune and resentment.  (A pristine copy of Scarecrow shouldn't be sitting in a damn thrift shop next to some post-Lionel Richie Commodores album!   In fact, I resent this thrift shop for only charging me 90 cents!  Show some fucking respect to the Coug!)

But the highlight purchase of the trip was Bruce Springsteen's The Wild, the Innocent, & The E Street Shuffle.  Not for it's content (though it's a far better album than it's more popular follow-up), but for the amazing photo on the back of the album.

There is nothing NOT amazing about what Clarence Clemons is/is not wearing here.  Every clothing decision he's made just leads to more and more questions.  He's a one man wardrobe version of LOST.  Sorry, guy in the doorway.  Not only are you wearing shoes, but you're missing a cabbie hat AND ascot.  And you call yourself a rock star?  For shame, sir.




***Bad Idea Show mini-Review:  Pearl Jam are fucking fantastic.  An "Eldery Woman" singalong had everyone grinning like fools, and the guitar solo from "Alive" still carries more nostalgic resonance than any instrumental passage has a right to hold.  It's time that we all admit that in the canon of 1991 albums, Ten is better start-to-finish than Nevermind.