Had so busy a weekend that I almost let one slip in late; tis not the midnight hour yet, so I still have time to drop a line 'fore Mr. Pickett takes me tumbling down.
But let's make it brief, shall we?
The lyrics for this Swedish band's best song (almost said hit; it wasn't--never charted anywhere. Go figure) don't make much sense, but then again, love often doesn't either. What does make sense is singer Bjorn Dixgard's breathless scat-and-scream pleading, the drummer's restless rolling propulsion, and Daniel Haglund's fantastic throwback organ. Yeah yeah yeah!
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