No. 995 -- Rock On

Performer: David Essex

Songwriter: David Essex

Original Release: Rock On

Year: 1973

Definitive Version: None

Geez, what’s with all the oldies? You mean the “Classic Rock”? There was no classic rock radio when I was a kid. And no self-respecting young punk listened to what his parents did (I mean Chuck Berry was great, but …). Now, not only are they encouraged to do so, it’s about the only choice they have. It seems radio figures that the kids are too busy with the Pandora anyway, so they cater only to old farts like myself, and who wants to hear something new when you can hear Layla for the 10,000^th time?

Anyway, when I got the gig at the Daily Herald in 1988, I still wouldn’t be making much money ($19K, give or take), so I looked to live as cheaply as possible, which meant sharing a place with a roommate. I found such a connection in Mount Prospect. I had a small bedroom, my own bathroom and we had a small terrace outside the living room. It was in a complex, which isn’t my style, but at $275 per month, the price was right.

I can’t recall my roommate’s name—I think it was Doug—but I recall that he worked for United in a desk job and that he had a moustache, and that was about it. Because I worked nights, we didn’t see much of each other, which worked out fine. It wasn’t bad, but when the time came to move on, I decided I never wanted a roommate again unless I was in a relationship. At 25, it was time to have my own space.

Doug had Rock On on tape, and I recall that I always kind of liked it when I heard it on the radio, so I taped it and played it quite a bit in the car. (I had recently stopped listening to music radio myself.) Naturally, I have a clear vision of my apartment—and its mostly gold tones—when I hear this song.

Oh yeah, one more thing about that apartment: Did I mention that it was in the flight plan for O’Hare? That’s why the price was right. Every other day in the morning, I’d be literally shaken awake by a 747 or somesuch airliner taking off. I once lived about 200 feet from the L, which was unpleasant at first, but eventually I got used to it to the point where, like Elwood Blues, I didn’t even notice it. You don’t get used to a 747 roaring over your head.