If Edith Piaf were alive today she would be touring the country singing this song and only this song each night live for four hours straight before shooting a perfectly-formed arc of spit out at the front row and then storming off the stage. Also Maria Callas. It's THAT REAL. [Via]
Forrest Richard Betts turns 70 today. "Ramblin' Man" is one of those songs we have all heard too many times to have any kind of valid opinion on (I have finally come around, but I can see the thinking behind all the other opinions, although in the end what does it matter? Dickey Betts don't care what you think and we are all gonna wind up in the ground regardless of our postion on "Ramblin' Man" anyway.)—"No matter how you feel about the song 'Ramblin' Man,' remember that nobody else is interested and someday you will die" is a good approximation of my philosophy of life at this point; if you are interested in following my teachings please drop me a line at our general address—but this here is probably unfamiliar enough to some of you that you can listen to it without a ton of distaste, if that is indeed how you listen to "Ramblin' Man," which I should once again point out in no way changes the fact that death lurks around each corner waiting for the perfect moment to pop out and snatch you up into its dark and terminal embrace. Anyway, happy birthday Dickey Betts!