attack of the gpms: nine tonight (bob seger)

not, not bob saget. bob seger.

yeah, a lot of people my age are pretty sick of bob seger. his music has ended up implanted in the national psyche, i don’t even think i can think of so many songs anymore without the relevant visual. (let’s see: like a rock makes me think of chevy vehicles. old time rock and roll: tom cruise in his skivvies. night moves: a young matt leblanc. and i can keep going.) his stuff is the dreams that lite rock radio is made of. and except for some of his really old stuff, like ramblin’ gamblin’ man (go ahead and click the link and listen to it; i’ll wait. it’s that good), when i see bob seger’s name pop up on my radio, i tend to turn the page, er, station. it’s not that his stuff is inherently bad: he has a way with serious hooks. but it mostly has been played. to. death.

so how delighted was i when this little forgotten gem came on my radio, straight from the crappy 1980 film urban cowboy, a tale of a young country boy trying to make his way in the big, bad world of houston.  i suppose john travolta could be just as believable as a southern dude as he might be crossdressed up as edna turnblad, though i found his stint in the latter far more believable. (but i won’t go there.) don’t you love those amurican tales, where men are men and masseuses are scared? where your worth as a human can be proven by riding some mechanical bull the longest?

honestly, beyond the bull, i can’t really remember much about the film, but i do remember this song. and while it is much slicker than ramblin’, gamblin’ man;and while i will swear he ripped off the opening riff from hollywood nights, i do enjoy this little ditty. i think what i like best: it doesn’t really get a lot of airplay, so i haven’t had the chance to get sick of it.

and of course, not making me think of travolta in a ten-gallon doesn’t hurt, either.

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