I’m going to let this LiveJournal community speak for itself:
Jeff [Lynne] shrugged and sat back on the stool. “Well, whatever you want, then. It’s your album,” he said, adjusting his dark glasses. “What’ye gonna sing about?”
“I dunno. Animals. Great sex.” He looked around the studio. “LA,” he said, a soft smile crossing his lips. “Let’s do one about LA.” Jeff shared his grin, standing up to peer over the music stand at what key Tom [Petty] was playing in.
I wanna glide down over Mulholland
It was like magic. Jeff’s steady guitar twined into Tom’s keys, his slick voice contrasting perfectly with Tom’s rough, deliciously unkempt singing. It was meant to be.
And at once the guitar was hanging loosely from Jeff’s neck, all but forgotten, as Tom’s left hand played a dissonant chord in effort to keep his balance. Long brown curls surrounded Tom’s fingers as he leaned over the music stand, and there was the sweetest tickle-scratching of a beard against his chin and nose, the gentlest brushing of lip against lip.
And this is the G-rated one. Good God. Think I’ll pass on the one where Bob and George take their pants off during the writing of “Behind that Locked Door” — which I just made up, but I’ve seen enough for one day.
Cuban Linx: All the news that’s fit to blog.