“Worrying is like paying on a debt that may never come due.”
--Will Rogers
I’ve got a few albums from the 80s on my list, and I’m guessing that quite a few will fall into the “had to be there” category. CANDY APPLE GREY is just not one of them. The album has caused me untold anxiety over the course of my life, and if nothing else, I’m glad that I can put this chapter to rest.
I really wanted to like it. The title and the cover art were both pretty cool. And the band name had not one, but two umlauts. There would have been an excellent story arc here if I ended up enjoying it.. After all, the tape sat in a drawer in my bedroom for years, lend by that weird Southern dude who moved to Long Island during my junior year. I felt bad every time I opened the drawer. I felt guilt over keeping the tape for so long. I also felt the loss of opportunity, the shame over neglecting this tape when, let’s face it, all I had to do was pop it into the stereo. I had no idea what it was going to sound like. For all I know, it could have evoked an awesomeness that could have rivaled the Replacements. And yet I passed it over each and ever time I opened that one drawer, as if I were the Angel of Death, and that drawer were smeared with lamb’s blood.
The album caused me stress once again this past week, as I could not bring myself to listen to it the six times that I’ve committed to previewing each album I review. I made it through twice, but then that was all I could do. Meanwhile, I put off writing the column, and the album once again became a source of anguish for me.
In the end, all of the stress that the album caused me was for naught. It was never going to be something that would touch me, make my life better in any way. I’ve learned a valuable lesson, though—one that Will Rogers knew long before I was born.
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