Songs I have been trying to rewrite for years

Every writer, every musician, every artist is basically a thief. We don’t mean to be, but we can’t help it. We create because we love, so naturally what we create resembles what we love.

Now, there are people who intentionally swipe someone’s words, music, and ideas and try to pass ’em off as their own. I’m not talking about these plagiarists, who are sad criminals indeed. I’m talking about the rest of us, who wear our influences on our sleeves, who create in a (probably) vain effort to capture that spirit that first drew us to the art we love. We may be thieves, but we’re thieves of passion.


Anyway, I just recorded a new album, All This Life, and it contains 15 songs that absolutely found their roots in other, better, songs. At this point in my old age, my thievery has created something of a pop-culture gumbo, a giant stew of musical contraband with too many influences (hopefully) to be traced to any one artist. In fact, it might someday be accepted as my own personal style. Until then, though, you can probably trace my creations back to any one of these wonderful songs, which are listed in no particular order (although the first song is undoubtedly first for a reason). There are hundreds more, but these are the first ones that popped (ha ha! “Popped!” Cause I’m writing about pop music!) into mind.

NOTE: I didn’t include certain songs that have informed my love of rock music from the start – “Johnny B. Goode,” say, or “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On,” or even the entire Beatles catalogue, because, well, that stuff has influenced EVERYBODY. Even Miley. Maybe not Justin.

“Back on the Chain Gang,” The Pretenders
Pretty much every song I come up with is my attempt to write “Back on the Chain Gang.” Chrissie Hynde hasn’t written a bad song yet, but even if she did, her delivery is so raw, sexy and honest that she could transform it into something sublime. But “Back on the Chain Gang” contains something so hugely emotional and transcendent that I get caught up in it every time. And oh, the song – a guitar lick at once jangly and melancholy (not to mention that amazing, descending triplet lead), a postpunk folk groove, a metaphorical lyric so sweet and mournful that it almost makes you forget the song is an upbeat rocker. Chrissie never overdelivers, and her restraint is as fascinating as the rest of it. I long to create something that contains so much emotion in such a pop-friendly package.

“Little Wild One (#5),” Marshall Crenshaw
Sweet, simple, and sexy, “Little Wild One” is a hard-rock screamer disguised as rockabilly pop. Crenshaw’s nifty ode to seething heartbreak seems so simple, but his delivery is full of such an intense, restrained passion that you cannot help but fall into it. Then you realize how well the melody blends with the lyrics – the high notes in the chorus just make the whole thing more emotional. And then comes the bridge, which almost feels like another verse, in which Crenshaw’s yearning can’t be contained in one vocal track – it becomes three. And the whole time, it’s a rocker with a great, twangy guitar. “Little Wild One” is everything pop/rock should be, and proof that the simplest melody and changes can allow for the most direct, intense communication.

Tie, “Vienna”/”A Matter of Trust,” Billy Joel
Billy’s The Stranger is the first album I remember buying on my own. I like to think I used my own money, but how does a 7-year-old make money, besides scanning the couch cushions every few hours? Anyway, I wore that sucker out, even if I generally tuned out on the last two tracks (and who could blame me). “Movin’ Out” was the song that attracted me, but more and more I was haunted by the gorgeous “Vienna,” which combined a folk-ballad aesthetic with enigmatic lyrics and a tough-as-nails delivery. To this day, I haven’t been able to figure out the mysteries of the melody, but I’ve written a lot of songs trying.

Meanwhile, “A Matter of Trust” is just the perfect pop song. Great groove, simple but effective changes, a fantastic, circular melody, and is there a better key for power pop than D? The weak production on The Bridge lessens the punch, but it’s there on 12 Gardens, Billy’s latest live album. It’s amazing – the groove is right there from the beginning, and there aren’t a lot of detours, but man, does it soar.

“Darling Be Home Soon,” The Lovin’ Spoonful
Simply the most romantic song I know. Sebastian and the boys start with a calm folk melody and capture what it means to be in love in such a beautiful and mature way that it still brings tears to my eyes – and best of all, there’s not a trace of sentimental pap. I’m still trying to learn how to build a song so honestly.

“Dried Up,” Ass Ponys
I love so many tunes by the Ass Ponys, the late, great combo from Ohio (which fortunately lives on, in a fashion, as Wussy), but I think “Dried Up” is the one I’ve been trying to catch up with the most. Like all the Ponys songs, it combines true Americana soul with a healthy dose of punk, and tells a novel’s worth of stories in just a few lines. It’s also painfully honest, a screed that captures the true, sad nature of nostalgia (“you’re moving like a poem/and it hurts to see you going”) like the best Carver story. Whenever I get caught up in my own metaphors (or, worse, “poetry”), I try to think of “Dried Up” and how so little can accomplish so much.

“Unsatisfied,” Replacements
I started listening to punk in high school, and fell in love with the fierce, stripped-down energy, the anger, and (of course) the huge chunky guitar chords. But it took the ‘Mats to teach me that true punk attitude and penetratingly honest lyrics with soaring melodies aren’t mutually exclusive. I suppose some churlish infidel could label this as a building block to “emo,” but really, it’s a burst of passion that just happens to kick ass.

“Don’t Wait Up,” Richard Julian
If you don’t know who Richard Julian is, I strongly suggest you stop reading this post right now and remedy that immediately. I was a fan of his even before I knew he grew up right down the street from me, and he just keeps getting better. Like all the best songwriters, he plays in all styles, from funk to blues to country. But while my favorite song of his changes every day, “Don’t Wait Up” is the one that continues to amaze me with how well it creates a mood, a time. Even before the line “there’s frost on Memorial Day,” you’re feeling it, thanks to the incredible guitar work and subtly descending melody. Every time I set out to write a new song, I think about how I can capture a feeling as well as “Don’t Wait Up.” Haven’t gotten there yet.

“Sleepwalker,” the Kinks
I’m not saying it’s my fave Kinks song, and it’s certainly far from their best. But at a time when I was just teaching myself to play guitar, that “Sleepwalker” lick – a variation of “Louie, Louie” (but then again, aren’t they all?) with a huge sound and a beat you can dance to – informed about 90% of my songs from the time. And even now, it reminds me that there is nothing like a great, simple, chunky chord sequence to kick off a 3-minute rock song.

“Buddy Holly,” Weezer
“Buddy Holly” is a simple, funny little pop song with the guitars turned up to eleven. As one who loves simple, funny little pop songs and guitars turned up to eleven, it was quite a revelation to hear one song that encompassed both. See also Veruca Salt’s “With David Bowie.”

“No One Like You,” The Scorpions
Okay, judge if you must, but I love this shit. I know the first line on my CD is “a winter’s tale plays in my head as I come undone,” but still…give me some crunchy power chords and a singer who knows how to wail about how chicks are hot and stuff and I’m one happy boy. And before they became the poster boys for wussed-out powerless ballads, the Scorpions fuckin’ ROCKED. And here’s how – they could switch from beautiful guitar ballad to pounding hard rock in the space of one song – thus, “No One Like You.” They never really got the respect they deserved from the metalheads, who like to poke fun at diminutive, balding Klaus Meine and his almost ridiculously high caterwaul (of course, those same lunkheads fawn all over Geddy Lee, who admittedly has better hair). But I love the Scorps because they brought a healthy dose of power chord punk to the scene; they were unafraid to mix complex, melodic guitar lines (“Still Loving You”) with the most basic, any-kid-can-play-that-after-one-month-of-lessons licks (“Rock You Like a Hurricane,” anyone?). So even in my most introspective shoegazer tunes, I’m always thinking about big, chunky guitar chords.

Rockin’ in the Free (if you steal it) World,



An ongoing list of overheard theater fallacies

I’m incredibly fortunate – I actually make money in the arts. As the administrator for a community theater and a published playwright, my paychecks are directly related to all things theater. It’s a wonderful thing.

It also lends me a particular perspective. I hear from all types, including eager young actors, cynical techs, disillusioned writers, egocentric directors – and you can pretty much switch adjectives and objects at will. And so when certain clichés start to take form, I have the advantage of placing them in a certain context. Thus, I present to you an ever-expanding compendium of theater fallacies. Have you said, or believed, any of these pearls of wisdom? I know I have.

“It’ll Sell Itself!”

Usage: We need a hit, so let’s produce ‘The Sound of Annie of Oz Grease Superstar.’ No worries – it’ll itself!
The Reality: No. It won’t.

There are certain staples out there that community theaters know – just know – will be successful. We learn this from experience. JCS always seems to bring the crowds, right? And hell, the grandparents alone will pay back the exorbitant royalties of Annie or Wizard of Oz – so bring on the moppets! But it don’t always work out that way. Sure, parents and grandparents will come see their precious little snowflakes, and rock musicals tend to bring out the curious non-theater types. But hoping the name alone will entice the crowds is a big mistake. After all, once a title is part of the zeitgeist, it’s probably been turned into a movie and produced into the ground by every theater in a 30 mile radius…so much of your target audience has been there, done that. Your particular production might be the greatest thing since that bass solo in “You Can Call Me Al,” but the name alone won’t be enough to entice the crowds.

And here’s the trickier part – the people choosing theatrical seasons are, by definition, “theater people.” They possess a certain taste and insight that much of our target audience does not. You and I can name the musical that won the Tony last year – can they? When it becomes available, we theatergeeks will jump all over it, but we’re not the ones buying tickets, we’re the ones auditioning and finagling our way into free seats. Things like “Tony and Pulitzer winning” look great in marketing blurbs, but they don’t translate into sales. And I won’t even get into the production itself, except to say word-of-mouth is a powerful tool…few things can kill a show like a cast who discourages friends & family from coming to see it.

So what DOES sell a show? Damned if I know. Damned if anybody knows. Hell, look on Broadway, where it’s all movie tie-ins and celebrities – even Disney can’t tell a hit from a flop until it’s way too late. On a local scale, the only thing that really seems to work is the unadulterated enthusiasm of the production crew itself. Seems that if the cast & crew love what they’re doing, people will come.

“If the cast & crew love what they’re doing, people will come.”

Usage: See above entry.
The Reality: Not so much.

I’m not saying it hurts. I’m just saying that no amount of cast loveydovey is going to promote a show. If said loveydovey translates into grassroots promotion – poster hanging, phone calls, impromptu street performances – it helps. But I’ve seen many shows that faltered despite the genuine enthusiasm of the cast & crew. Sometimes, the audience just doesn’t feel the love (in simpler terms, the show ain’t as good as the cast thinks it is). But often, I think those producing the show begin to assume their love is contagious, and will spill out into the atmosphere, enticing viewers like the smell of a bone entices Tex Avery dogs. It doesn’t. I’m thrilled for those in theater who have a wonderful experience – that’s what it’s all about. Now go hang some posters, willya?

“It’s all politics.”

Usage: You know why no one will produce my play and/or cast me? I don’t know the right people. It’s all politics.
The Reality: Yes, but not quite like you think.

Theater people are notoriously…unique. Think about what we do – we devote much of our lives to either pretending we are someone else or enabling others to pretend. At some level, we are constantly auditioning, showing someone our most vulnerable side so that they may judge us and decide our fate. Or, worse yet, we ARE the judges, watching person after person (often our friends, but not at that moment) parade their talents so that we can decide whether or not they fit into our “vision.” Our level of personal security is…oh, let’s say “skewed.”

Therefore, when things don’t go our way, it is very easy to blame the politics of theater. No one will produce my script because I don’t know the right people. They won’t cast me because I don’t have a chummy relationship with the director. And there might be some truth to the matter.

However, there’s an inherent surrender in comments like these. The truth is, theater – local or otherwise – is a small business, as the awesome Gary Garrison will tell you. If you don’t have connections, MAKE THEM. Lord knows I knew nobody in the playwriting biz when I started, and I can now count many amazing and successful writers among my friends…and those friendships have led to opportunities I never imagined. And really, all I did was send emails, go to productions whenever I could, and generally make an effort to connect with my fellow writers, to learn from them, to listen to them, and (especially?) to drink with them. I’ve had the luck and fortune to be able to travel, to take classes and seminars, to visit – granted, not everyone has that luxury. But isn’t that (along with odd abbreviations and kitty pics) what the internets are for?

And as for you actors & directors – yep. All things being equal, a director will choose someone they know & love over working with an unproven entity. Again, though – theater is a small, small world, and your rep, good or bad, will get around. Trust me. No one wants to work with people they…don’t want to work with, whether the gig is paid or volunteer. So how ‘bout your connections? Take a good, honest look at yourself and your history. Did you spend time complaining about the production to your fellow castmates, people who were actually having – or trying to have – a good time? Did you talk smack about your fellow actors to your friends, leaving said friends wondering what you’re saying about them to others? Were you obnoxious during auditions? A frequent absentee during rehearsals? (Let me tell ya, folks – if you must have a vice, make sure it ISN’T being the guy who calls in sick all the time.) Trouble-makers come in all shapes and sizes, and “insecurity” is no excuse…we’re ALL insecure, brother. When it comes down to it, them what duz the castin’ are going to choose the nice, supportive person over the talented painintheass every time. Politics? Not really. Just common sense. Being at the helm is a hugely daunting task – every move gets second-guessed, not least by yourself. Those of us who do it want to make things as stress-free as possible, and that means keeping the nasties at bay.

Now, this doesn’t mean there aren’t back-scratchers out there, just like there are in every gig. And it doesn’t mean good actors & writers aren’t getting screwed out of great roles & shows because those in charge had their blinders on. But if they’d rather work with an old buddy over you, hey – it’s their loss. And probably a theatrical venture you’d rather not take. In the meantime, please remember that the best, most lasting connections start by being friendly and supportive, even (especially) behind backs.

More shattered illusions coming soon to a post near you…



How to avoid playwriting by spewing a few meaningless opinions

Has it always been this way, and I’m just now figuring it out? Or is this a 2009 thing? When did pop/rock become dominated by women? Why is it men are stuck with heavy but banal dirges on finding second chances and being all hurt n’ stuff while women get to explore every avenue of music and emotion?

Beats me. But nearly every bit of pop that made an impact (on me, anyway) was delivered by women this year. Even the reliable rockers like the Foo Fighters and hip hop provocateurs like Kanye forgot to be interesting (on record, anyway). You have to head into indietown to find men who aren’t stuck in “everything I know, I learned from Nickelback” territory.

Fortunately, the ladies – and a few of the indie fellows – came through this year. Below are my choices for the good stuff – and some of the bad. Enjoy, friends!

Oh, and as always, these opinions are solely those of the author. Where do I get the nerve?


“I Do Not Hook Up,” Kelly Clarkson. Oh-h! No-o! Kelly’s defiant roar of pride is pop at its most pure, most joyful, most fun – it’s everything disposable music SHOULD be, and more. Heck, the only reason we aren’t unanimously crowning it “The Pop Single of 2009” is because “My Life Would Suck Without You” is so damn good too.

“Sober,” Pink. I know it was released in 2008, so it’s a bit of a cheat, but most of us found it after January, so it counts. Good thing, too…Pink’s finest hour is perhaps the best song of any year. Some of her rock tracks suffer a bit from quick-paced formula (short verse, loud catchy chorus, repeat), but “Sober” is so strangely complex, emotional, and lyrically & musically risky that it’s an instant classic. You hear it, and you want to hear it again. And geez, how about that video?

“Zero,” Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Listening to “Zero” – to all of It’s Blitz!, actually – takes you (well, me, since I’m old) back to the glory days of New Wave, back when indie music felt new and pure and not so damned self-conscious and ironic. “Zero” is a sincere delight – plus, thanks to Karen O’s very adult and sexy voice, it’s a great transcendent rocker.

“Single Ladies,” Beyonce. Overplayed? Sure. But not only is “Single Ladies” a magnificently punchy, genre-defying slice of attitude, it has a genuinely odd structure that keeps you guessing, even on the 300th listen. Listen to those changes under “if you like it/then you should’ve put a ring on it”…not exactly cookie-cutter chords, are they? Besides, nobody knows the power of a well-timed “oh-oh-oh” like our own Miss Fierce.

“LoveGame,” Lady Gaga. So what was YOUR favorite Lady Gaga song of the year? Many swear by the odd mashup of “Bad Romance,” some still love the sneaky “Poker Face,” still others prefer “Just Dance” or “Paparazzi.” All fine choices, but with its bold dance-all-night synth lick, sexy-sweet come-ons, and Grace Jones-evoking chorus, “LoveGame” is my fave Gaga jam to date. Still, what’s truly amazing is that we all have a pet song by Ms. Germanotta – love her or hate her, you still love her.

“Day ‘n Night,” Kid Cudi. Try to classify this one – stoner hip-hop folk, maybe? Kid Cudi takes us on a lyrically adventurous trip into his mind, letting the simple, hypnotic melody and haunting synth licks guide us into pop bliss. Even as it keeps a foot firmly in iTunes-happy territory, it could be the most original song of the year.

“Sometime Around Midnight,” Airborne Toxic Event. I know…they’re named “Airborne Toxic Event.” They wear wool caps and skinny jeans, too (I assume, anyway). But here’s a song that takes the offbeat observational skills of Okkervil River and infuses it with the kind of sincere emotion you don’t expect to hear from indie folks…and then the music just builds and builds until it surrounds your soul. Plus…it rocks. If there’s a post-hipsterdom movement in 2010, this song will kick it off.

“People Got a Lotta Nerve,” Neko Case. It sounds a bit like a throwaway at first…jangly guitars, subtle hook, an almost effortless vocal. But then you catch those lyrics and sneaky, sexy chorus, and you hear that really odd and disturbing second verse, and you realize Ms. Case knew what she was doing all along…and then, just as it’s soaring into pop bliss, it all ends. But oh, while it lasted…

“Battlefield,” Jordin Sparks. Every American Idol finalist record is loaded with pop potential – hooks galore, repetitive choruses, a chance for the singer to hit a money note or two. Unfortunately, they almost always sound like what they are – pop ditties composed by committee, stripped of idiosyncrasies and personality. “Battlefield” could have been one of those, but Ms. Sparks gives it just enough emotion to let it truly soar and become something sublime. It’ll get stuck in your head for days, but you won’t be sorry.

“Heavy Cross,” Gossip. I’m a big fan of Beth Ditto, but I was a little disappointed when I first heard the disco-singed “Heavy Cross.” I thought it too dense, too processed, too far removed from the awesomely spare, pokey dance punk of Standing in the Way of Control. But the more I listened, the more I loved – sure it’s disco, but it’s damned good disco, sexy, rocking and satisfying. And the Divine Ms. Ditto refuses to get lost in the mix – she delivers a powerful vocal that gives the whole enterprise a healthy dose of sexy soul.

“The Rake’s Song,” The Decemberists. You have to go all the way back to the Violent Femmes’ “Country Death Song” to find another awesomely catchy song about, er, murdering your own children. Of course, Gordon at least had the courtesy to feel bad about what he did…not Colin, who sounds relatively pleased. Creepy as hell…and really fun. Which just makes it more creepy. And fun.

“Waking Up in Vegas,” Katy Perry. Katy’s got a fantastic look, and she got off to a slyly provocative start with the strictly PG “I Kissed a Girl,” but with her limited range and by-the-numbers delivery, she’s going to have to count on great material until she finds her own voice (if she ever does). Fortunately, “Waking Up in Vegas” has got a killer chorus, a great beat, and a sense of humor – everything a disposable summer pop song needs to cross the line from good to great.

“1901,” Phoenix. Now that radio is in such a weird place and MTV and VH1 barely show videos, I suppose there’s a case to be made for licensing as a means for launching little-known acts. But what a freakin’ shame that Phoenix’s towering bit of electronica will forever be associated with car commercials.

Honorable Mentions:

“Honey West,” Betty. I don’t think it was ever a single, but man, it should be…Betty’s paean to a forgotten 60’s TV detective is a delightful rocker.

“What Are You Like,” Indigo Girls. Subtle production and a great groove make this one nearly irresistible – unless you’re a diehard Indigo Girls fan, in which case you’ve essentially heard it before. Still, it’s a good ‘un.

“Me With You,” Brian Turner. A great songwriter turns in one of his very best. When BT drops his CD, get in line for a copy – it’s gonna be awesome! In the meantime, go to Brian’s ReverbNation Page and give it a listen.


“No Surprise,” Daughtry. Look, I don’t object to the sentiment, or even the guy’s voice. No, my problem is that every note, every chord, every drumbeat in this humorless dirge is more predictable than the last. The absolute nadir of overproduced, oversung, oh-so-earnest white-boy “power chord” pap.

“Second Chance,” Shinedown. I stand corrected.

“Gives You Hell,” All-American Rejects. Damn you, Green Day – you see what you did? You inspired guys like the All-American Rejects, who think they’re being “edgy” with their braggy, twee little kiss-off song, in which they crow about sleeping all day while their ex has to, like, have a real job. Obviously, this little bastard struck a chord, since the song was a smash. But “obnoxious” and “slickly produced pop” are a bad combination, and “Gives You Hell” is the worst of both worlds.

“We Made You,” Eminem. Eminem’s “comedy” songs used to have some zip. But more and more they belong on the Dr. Demento show. He’s still got a raw talent, but this one’s dumb and irritating.

“I Gotta Feeling,” Black-Eyed Peas. My God, the Peas have grown lazy. If their habit of repeating a single word to fill in the gaps in poorly-metered lyrics isn’t bad enough, now they’re not even bothering to rhyme, write melodies, or provide an interesting beat. Sure, it’s catchy, but so is a pre-programmed drum n’ bass track on an old Casio keyboard.

“Use Somebody,” Kings of Leon. These guys came loaded with hype as the next big rock band, and hell, maybe they are. Truth be told, the only bad part of “Use Somebody” is the chorus, where the title is repeated in a choked whine over and over until the song becomes nothing but an aggravating little earworm.

“3,” Britney Spears. Shouldn’t a song espousing the manage-a-trois be, y’know…sexy? Not this time. Britney sounds as detached as ever, and the beats are tired and square. Imagine what Lady Gaga woulda done with this one and you can see the trouble Britney might be in.

“Fireflies,” Owl City. It’s okay to admire Ben Gibbard. It’s okay to ape his voice and inflection. It’s even okay to give your track the exact same cheap-synth sound you might find on any Postal Service song – we all gotta start somewhere. But it’s NOT okay to give your song the most maddeningly cloying lyrics in recent history. Seriously…the hilariously vague ”everything is never as it seems” is the best line on the track. Even Spandau Ballet would have rejected “Why do I tire of counting sheep/when I’m too tired to fall asleep.” (Maybe.) By the time 10,000 lightning bugs are holding a sock hop, you’ll want to heave 10,000 meals.

Dishonorable Mentions:

“Good Girls Go Bad,” Cobra Starship. I get that the, er, Cobra Starship (ugh) are going for humor with their contribution to junior-high dance playlists across the country. We should encourage that, as humor is too rare a thing in pop music. But still…what an inane little song. Too silly to be truly offensive, but too stupid to be anything but annoying.

“1 2 3 4,” Plain White T’s. I don’t think it’s horrible, exactly, and I give them all the credit in the world for miraculously avoiding one-hit-wonderdom. But Lord do I hate that chorus. It’s the equivalent of setting a 4th-grade love note to music.


“Party in the U.S.A.,” Miley Cyrus. You either love it or hate it. The haters find it pandering (absolutely) and overproduced (certainly). The lovers are too busy moving our hips like yeah.

“If You Seek Amy,” Britney Spears. I love the chorus, even though it’s based on an old joke. I love the throwback “oh baby baby’s” in the verses. But something so “outrageous” shouldn’t be so forgettable. I dunno…either it’s too dumb, or not dumb enough.

“Boom Boom Pow,” Black Eyed Peas. The epitome of “It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.” And it’s so big and infectious that yes, dammit, you even want to dance to it. But oh, the brain-dead lyrics…so stupid, off-putting, and unnecessary that they almost kill the fun.

“She Wolf,” Shakira. An infectious groove, clever lyrics, and a nifty chorus are compromised (for me, at least) by Shakira’s less-than-inspired delivery, making what should be a pop masterpiece into something mostly forgettable.

“21 Guns,” Green Day. Green Day were always a commercial-minded pop band in punk-poseur costumes – but there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as the music’s good, which it usually is. “21 Guns” basically picks up where “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” but it’s not quite soaring enough to make up for its soft-pedaled repetition and “perfect” (thanks to studio manipulating) vocals. Still, I catch myself singing it an awful lot.

Anything by Taylor Swift. She’s got a knack, that’s for sure, and she’ll be around a long time, but her songs tend to get away from her. “Love Song” is catchy but cloying and lyrically ragged (at best…has she READ the stuff she’s referencing!?), “Fifteen” walks the line between sympathetic and condescending, and not even her pure n’ innocent voice can keep “You Belong With Me” from sounding a bit creepy. Give her a few years and she may just be onto something.

Well there you go, my friends – keep on rockin’ in the new year!

Love & kisses,