At a certain point, it gets hard having to hold it together,” he says of the group’s breakup. “I feel that this can be fun [because] it’s not going to take over our lives completely again. After 10 years away, you can recharge your friendship. After years and years in a band, it puts a strain on your friendships, because you’re not just friends; you’re in business together. You remember why you all like each other.”
As for what the group will play at those gigs, Wareham says the group’s recent reunion jam found them playing a career-spanning selection of songs. Among them were “Anesthesia” from Lunapark (1992), “Friendly Advice” from Bewitched (1994), “23 Minutes to Brussels” from Penthouse (1995) and “Tracy I Love You” from Pup Tent (1997). The group will have its first practice sometime next year, when it will decide the final set list for the Spanish tour, though it will likely include songs from all of their albums.
He also drops a hint that the first five Luna albums may be getting a release on vinyl:
Although Wareham does not want to give specifics, he says he’s been in talks to license the first five Luna records for vinyl release, though the deal has so far proven complex. “I’ll believe it when the papers are signed,” he says. He also says compilations of songs from the band’s vaults could also be a possibility, but that, too, is a complicated situation since the group doesn’t own the records.
Following on from Chris Stroffolino’s Piano Van session with Dean & Britta he’s wriiten a (long!) blog post opening up the song and having a poke around it’s innards…
As with many songs with catchy, sing along choruses, these lines are often the only lines of the song many casual listeners know, or have made it into long-term memory. They sink in, but on repeated listens, they call attention to the verses, especially if you’re looking for insights into unanswered questions about the significance of the chorus’s words.
The verses are certainly sad; perhaps tragic, but definitely ridden with pathos. The singer is non-judgmental and sympathetic with the struggle the “you” is going through, as if he’s also talking to himself. Since the sadness is at least as present in the second verse (after the chorus) as in the first, it shows how the chorus (despite their now calling you magic) didn’t really change much.
From the stage tonight I notice three different people crying as I sing “Blue Thunder,” which is a song about the power-steering action in my old 1975 Dodge Dart and doesn’t quite seem worth crying about, though admittedly it is also a song about being alone behind the wheel, and I wail about driving “so far away,” so maybe that’s what did it.
The review covers the a-side as well as the two ace covers on the flip (Victory Garden and Ceremony) and the article is more about ET revisiting his writing than about him revisiting the single – but makes for a fascinating read all the same…
The latter half of this sentence works fine, but really I should have said: Dean Wareham can’t quite hit the notes he’s reaching for, and man that’s disorientating over such a meticulous rhythm section. The sax just confused the hell out of me. Still does.