Peter Frampton got me in trouble when I was a kid. My older brother’s record player was in his bedroom underneath the window. I would spend a lot of time secretly listening to his records while he was out of the house and I mean really listening to records (as loud as possible) for all the nuances and instrumentation. A turning point in listening to music came along for me when I first heard Frampton Comes Alive!. I couldn’t understand why I liked it so much; after all, it was a live record and sounded nothing like those studio recordings I was accustomed to. And I’d ask myself, “What is that weird talking guitar thingy on ‘Do You Feel like We Do’?” (At 3:41 is the Talk Box.) Even the sun coming through the window liked it, so much so, that it softened the large disc into an unplayable shape. I was going to be in unplayable shape if I didn’t find the money to replace it before he got home. I replaced it but didn’t escape my brother’s strength.
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