It starts with a quiet, distant guitar line, so you turn your stereo up, trying to find the music. There's a little smudge of cymbal, a tiny note or two from the bass -- still, it's awfully quiet. So you turn it up a little more. That's when his voice arrives, mixed way above the instruments, echoing like it was recorded in St. Paul's Cathedral. "So it's not bloated stadiums or ballparks/ And we're not kids on swing sets on the blacktop/ And I thought at 15 that I'd have it down by 16/ And 24 keeps breathing in my face, like a mad whore/ And 24 keeps pounding at my door/ Like a friend you... More >>>