20-odd years ago, I left my beloved Wellington seaside community (hey there, Breaker Bay) to study in Australia.  To help say goodbye to so many people I loved so much I organised an informal night of music at the local hall, with lots of friends providing the music.  The final act was a 5-piece (or maybe 6) band brought along by my friend Robbie Duncan {bandcamp link added by SFW}.  I remember standing at the hall door watching as they carried all this big time gear into the hall during the set up.  Amps, speakers, keyboards, mixing desk, mic stands, lots of drums and guitar cases, cables everywhere.  And thinking "What the hell have I done?  This was supposed to be acoustic!".

The early part of the night went better than my wildest dreams.  By the time the final act came on, about 100 people were laughing, singing, dancing and having a great time.  I was standing at the back of the hall, musical duties over and pleasantly ripped thinking "This will be interesting, could go either way" when they launched into a cover of this song as their opening number.

Well, sometimes, the universe just comes up with things so special we are transported by the moment.  The band was tight from the first notes, the female lead singer nailed the vocals, all that fancy gear and sound system sounded incredible, the hall's acoustics were just right and the room went off.  I remember turning to my friend Kerry, no lover of the commercial pop song, and we both had huge smiles because everything was so right.  It sounded and felt fantastic.

Now, it may be cheesy.  It may be clichéd.  It may be commercial pop.  But if anyone slags this song within my hearing I will take them aside and forcefully explain how I once saw a performance of it define a moment for 100 people.  And yes, maybe you had to be there and possibly stimulant-affected but for those who were, it was transcendent.

Everyone's special music has it's own story.  Let's listen to it knowing that we all have our own stories, or gracefully PSD if you can't.  But let's stop dissing people here because their stories are different from ours.  We have social media and politicians for that.
Full respect to Bill and Rebecca!

Turns out it was the chorizo.

Well they're doing a "retro" thing just like Sha Na Na doing 50s music in the 70s, these kids are doing, um, 70s music in the, um, 20s and that hurts some of us in our hearts or maybe that's the chorizo I'm feeling.

Some old guy called SfW

With some trepidation I thought I'd have a look at the comments, but I'm delighted to see that most folk share the same adoration for this remarkable track and album. It is exquisite, and will no doubt be playing quietly in the back of my mind when I finally draw my last breath as it's been the theme tune to much of my life.

This was one of my father’s favorite albums. He passed at 87 last November. Will always remember cranking this up with him. Funny thing is, he was a professional jazz bass player. Blew me away when he asked me to get him a copy of this album when it came out. Great memories. Miss you dad.

Plodding. Dull. Bombastic. Pretentious. Artless.

Just the best. So uplifting to be exposed to all these diverse tunes throughout the day. So many of them just beg to have me interrupt my work and get up and dance (or at least sit up and dance - I'm in a wheelchair at present). This brings back a trip to Europe when I was 12, turning 13 while away, and my mother taught me to dance the Rumba box step. Well, she had actually taught me years earlier but, now that I was becoming a 'young lady', she let me join her in The Palmcourt, which was the lounge on the ocean liner, and danced with me, and let me stay up quite late, joining her while she enjoyed her Rum-and-Cokes. Super-good memories. Thanks, Bill. As always.

The year is 1994 and I'm doing business in Omaha. At night, I usually try to find live music which is very tough mid-week in small cities in the U.S. Live is playing at this city hall and I buy tickets last second and find myself in the balcony. I'm sitting with a lot of older men and woman (only slightly older than I was.....I was 40 at the time).....and this one lady points down at the mosh pit and asks me ....."which one is yours"?  She meant which kid dancing down there was yours? I said I came here by myself to listen to the band and she looked at me like I was crazy. There must have been over a 100 "older" men and women at this concert watching their teenage kids thrash around at the mosh pit. I have never seen this before or since.