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I wore these pants to the Carole King concert at Northrup Auditorium in
1977—the same place I would see the Minnesota Orchestra and the
Metropolitan Opera. I was composing music at the age of 13 in June
1975, when a family trauma forced questions of musical taste into my
first real commitment issue. I felt caught between the old and the new,
loathing and loving all of it. Pop songs from that time—indeed, as I
have re-discovered, love songs that reached the top of the charts the
very month my world turned upside-down—have lingered in my limbic
system ever since. Peabohemia works it out. My date for the Carole King
concert in 1977 was the prettiest girl in school. 20 years later, I
recorded additional dialogue for a major motion picture in the very
same Times Square studio where Carole sang now my tapestry's
unraveling.
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