Deeply flawed, but fundamentally decent, I approach life with an irreverent attitude toward certain modern social conventions, while harboring a profound nostalgia for bygone traditions of honor and decency. We each have our own code, and I succeed and fail by mine.
Phil Collins and Genesis are just fucking awesome. The werewolf can't emphasize that enough. Seeing them live before he dies –more realistically before they all croak, but who knows what tomorrow will bring– is a serious component of his ever growing bucket list. Anyhow, this appropriately self-deprecating song seems so fitting at the moment. Phil Collins has that classic presence where he is able to properly self-parody, while maintaining his classic rock-star cool. It’s a gift.
As has been mentioned, the werewolf’s tour of duty in Nashville turned him into a bit of karaoke fool at the legendary Lonnie’s Western Room. There are few things the werewolf would embrace with pure alacrity more than an encore tour of Nashville and all of his old haunts. Although he developed a deep repertoire of songs he was willing to desecrate on that small stage, three go-to songs emerged and become synonymous with what to expect during a night of appropriate drinking, honky tonkin’ and karaoking. Beyond being a perennial favorite of the werewolf, “I Can’t Dance” has the dubious honor of being on that list. Watching it done right by Phil Collins and the maestros of Genesis always brings a smile to werewolf’s haggard face.