This Life

Thankfully for daddy, no more questions regarding eternity or the lack thereof. Just questions about whether Animal or Fozzie is the more silly muppet. Thank God.

Working on a Dream has been spinning nonstop. Tomorrow, as I have a day off, I'll write when the little ones are down, I'll break down my thoughts more in-depth. I like the record and I think I like it quite a bit. There's much from WOAD to rave about and I will. It's an oddity, though, as many reviewers have already stated in that Bruce doesn't give us a "message" per se; no fist-pumping anthems nor truims on the mass scale. WOAD is a personal record, like Tunnel of Love, in which I believe Bruce the man is singing and not through characters so often. This is a BIG record in the sense of the orchestration; Bruce has never done a record like this. The songs and lyrics and overall 'oomph' take a backseat to the sound of the record. It's big like Roy Orbison and Phil Spector and, yes I'll say it, Abbey Road. On the flip side, part of me believes that WOAD and Magic are the same album. Or, actually two albums in two - half the songs from each album belong with the half from the other. Or, there's WOAD and then several political nadir-of-the-Bushies songs that needed a home. The greatest criticism is the production. Rather the PRODUCTION. The record's so over-produced it makes Jeff Lynne sound like a garage rocker. Please, Bruce, fire Brendan O'Brien. Now. And then have Little Steven do the next one.

More to come tomorrow.