Golden fog, er, smog, er ... what?!

My brother was recently writing that I am a better (or at least better educated) rock music fan than he is. I was very flattered to read this, but I am still hopelessly jealous at what a better writer he is than I am. He is able to write about his life and how he feels about things as he lives them, in a way that is very personal but not self-centered or smarmy - unique in the blogosphere.

But also, pretty much what I've always believed make the very best rock songs, or the ones that all the drunk people in the bar sing along with, 'cuz they think the song's about them - songs that tell the singers' feelings, but somehow make them universal ... Springsteen's Glory Days or REM's Driver 8 (though that one's not the words, since it's from that time when you could never tell what Michael Stipe was singing; it's the guitar & bass & drums, with this droning over it that move you ... or X - See how we are, that was in my head for a week in August and they did not even perform it when we saw them in Chicago, just played it in the car on the way down.

Anyways, wish I could do it.