Waxing Nostalgic Connecting The Dots: The Who, “Won’t Get Fooled Again” (1971)

By Jeffery X Martin

The John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge connects Covington, Kentucky (the town of my birth) to Cincinnati, Ohio (the town that, as a teenager, became my stomping ground). At the time of its completion, in 1866, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world, with a span of 322 meters (1057 feet).

Let’s get down to brass tacks here. Driving over the Suspension Bridge is scary as shit. As soon as you hit the surface of the bridge, the road surface changes. No smooth blacktop or asphalt here; it is nothing but closely spaced thin strips of steel. That’s all keeping you and your car from pulling a Mothman Prophecies and plunging hood-first into the Ohio River. When you drive over it, the car begins to vibrate, and this hideous hum begins emanating from your tires. Rubber meets metal, and the entire vehicle shakes and swerves.

It’s not pleasant.

Unless you’re two years old and don’t know any better.

Here’s the odd thing. Depending on how fast you go, the friction of the bridge against the tires produces a musical note. I know for a fact that as my mother drove across the bridge that day, she was playing an open A chord without realizing it.

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Waxing Nostalgic Connecting the Dots: Phasing

By Jeffery X Martin

In 1971, I was two years old the house was awash in mild psychedelia. We had an aluminum Christmas tree, all silver. The branches were metal spikes that fit into a pre-drilled steel tube. Reflective bits of Mylar replaced the false pine needles. We also had a color wheel, four plastic cels of colored plastic revolving slowly in front of a bare light bulb. Groovy? Yeah, man.

The living room awash in color, my father had the music playing as usual. I was sitting on the couch under my own power, which was a relatively new thing for me. The speakers were huge and he liked it loud. He took a sip from his drink, looked at me levelly, and said, “Phasing.”

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Waxing Nostalgic Connecting The Dots: The Moody Blues

By Jeffery X Martin

I can’t remember the first song I ever heard. It seems like very few people would. I can remember the first song I remember hearing, but I know that’s not the first song I ever actually heard. There’s no way to divine the actual first piece of music I ever heard, but I can get close.

From what I’m able to gather, the first album my parents bought after I was born was To Our Children’s Children’s Children by The Moody Blues. That record came out in November of 1969. I came out in June.

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Waxing Nostalgic Connecting the Dots: An Introduction

By Jeffery X Martin

I was born in 1969. When we imagine 1969 now, through the shattered lens of revisionist history, we think of hippies and acid and the overuse of the word “quagmire” when describing the Vietnam War. I look at things through a pop culture filter, always, so it isn’t really a surprise that I would, one drunken night, check the charts to see what the number one song was the week I was born. It had to be something cool, with lots of flanging and sitar and lyrics about flowers.

The number one song the week I was born was “Love Theme from Romeo and Juliet” by Henry Mancini.

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