A ten-tube Grundig and the days before rock and roll

I did the right thing today: kept the top down through the dark and fog on the way in.  Yes, the heater had to be on, but the drive is all the more visceral for the exposure to the elements.  It wasn't especially cold (I like those top-down drive, too, but then the heater is on full and the side windows must be up to trap the heat in for that outdoor-hot-tub like experience), but the light fog swirled in and around my little cockpit, bringing the morning scents with it.  The smell of breakfast cooking in one spot, more leafy decomposition in another, and the running-rich exhaust note of a little MG I followed for a few blocks.  He also had his top down: that guy deserves a convertible!  None of this oh-I-have-a-convertible-but-the-wind-messes-up-my-hair-so-I-never-drop-the-top stuff for the likes of us.  His top-down drive was all the more risky because you don't simply pull the top up and over your shoulder in an MG, it is a pull over, park, and get-out affair.  So my cap is off to my fellow top-down on a dark and foggy morning driver, except that my cap was on.

This morning's sound track was decidedly in its own face, from delicate classical to edgy rock.  It finished up with Van Morrison's In the Days Before Rock 'n' Roll, one of my all-time favorites of his.  An odd song with a mostly spoken cadence, it recounts the days when dialing up good music required time on your knees before the wireless knobs. It makes me think of the old ten-tube Grundig stereo system my dad had shipped back from Germany, and that I grew up with.

That is exactly what the dial looked like when you lifted the center lid on the birch wood cabinet. Each of the dials shifted a red dot on the back-lit screen, with each column of dots connected by little lines.  There was a definite heft and click when you depressed those Bakelite keys. It took time to warm up the tubes, and the the glow coming from that screen was warmer than any digital device will ever be able to match. Much of what it was designed to do was wasted in the airspace of our little corner of the U.S., but it was a total wonder to a young kid who loved music.  It still amazes me when I look at that picture, considering the technology of the day.

Van Morrison's song pays tribute to the likes of Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard, and the days of Radio Luxembourg:

Justin, gentler than a man

I am down on my knees

At the wireless knobs

I am down on my knees

At those wireless knobs

Telefunken, Telefunken

And I'm searching for

Luxembourg, Luxembourg,

Athlone, Budapest, AFN,

Hilversum, Helvetia

In the days before rock 'n' roll

and...

Fats did not come in

Without those wireless knobs

Fats did not come in

Without those wireless knobs

Elvis did not come in

Without those wireless knobs

Nor Fats, nor Elvis

Nor Sonny, nor Lightning

Nor Muddy, nor John Lee

Good stuff, I say.  Today's full playlist:

Pink Martini: Clementine
Jacques Loussier Trio: Gnossienne No. 5
Turtle Island String Quartet: Nocturne from String Quartet No. 2
Weezer: Keep Fishin'
Van Morrison: In the Days Before Rock 'n' Roll