I’m sitting in the living room pretending I’m going to wake up at some point. Liza Minelli is creeping me out on the TV. Mo is in the next room drawing a pig to illustrate a story about a cow. Don’t ask. BK is snoring in her office. Nobody is showing signs of a pulse. “I lost my coffee!” Mo says. “It’s in a white cup,” she adds helpfully. No signs of life anywhere.
Then, from the next room, a Rolling Stones song drifts through. I’m not really paying attention at all. But when the chorus rolls around, in a Pavlovian response, I find myself singing out loud, “Wiiiiiiiiiiild Horses, couldn’t drag me away.” In the next room, totally unaware, Mo is doing the same thing.
Three choruses later, we’re still doing it.
Sometimes you forget why some bands were so great. But it’s the songs. Great songs never age. Even when their writers do. Boy, do they.
I can’t wait till “Brown Sugar” rolls around so I can see Mo do her Mick Strut …