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:: Wall Street ::

:: Mia Bella Roma ::

:: Portuguese Washerwoman ::

Well, this will be the last post of 2006 here on the Robot, so why not go out with some urbane jazz, presented in sparkling, uncomplicated mono? You can practically hear the clacking of wingtips on dirty pavement, smell the hot dog steam, and hear someone saying "Hey, Fuck you!" as you listen to the frenetic title track "Wall Street." You can almost smell your mama's fresh ziti during the romantic swells of "Mia Bella Roma." You can almost feel the long hours and imagine the insufficient wages when you listen to "Portuguese Washerwoman."



Actually, I dig this stuff quite a lot. I could dredge nothing up on this album or John Froman, even though I asked Lady Internet real nice-like, and in many different ways. Mr. Froman penned, or co-penned all the tracks I've put up here, except the one about the washer woman. It feels the only things I am missing when I listen to this is a putrid glass of Chartreuse on the rocks, and perhaps some house slippers. Goodbye, 2006.


Tony

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