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It was the spring of 1997 and, as usual, I was navigating my car through the rush hour traffic in New York City on my way to work. To distract me from the frustrations of the road, my car radio was tuned into a local rock station. This morning, a song that I had never heard before started to play. I remember the lone drumbeat, then the guitar and finally the singer's voice. That voice was so distinctive; it was low, raspy, almost talking rather than singing. The opening phrases of this song - a tale of the death of a friend, images of "cemetery trees" and a "broken heart disease" - were depressing. "What strange song is this?" I asked myself. Just as I reached for the radio dial to search for something more cheerful - after all, I was already upset about being stuck in traffic, why did I need a song to make me feel even worse? - the song's chorus began to tell a story about hope, about trying a little harder and making things better. It was so positive. As the song continued, I was intrigued, captivated, almost hypnotized by the singer's words and his style of singing. When the song faded out, the deejay reported, "That was `One Headlight' by The Wallflowers . . ." and then continued on with his usual morning antics. I had never heard of the band before, but I was curious enough to want to know more.
The Wallflowers' brand of modern rock music was eloquently presented in its 1996 album, "Bringing Down the Horse." Applauded by critics and fans alike, the album sold over four million copies. In 1996 and 1997, rock stations across the country regularly featured not only "One Headlight," but also to "Sixth Avenue Heartache," "The Difference" and "Three Marlenas." None of the other songs matched the success of "One Headlight," which became the most played song of 1997 and earned two Grammys - one for best rock song and one for best rock group performance. |
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