Something For Sunday

The calendar! What mysteries lie behind its ordered, boxy facade? Plenty, but we're here not to question the very essence of the idea of sequential time but to celebrate the arrival of an old friend called Sunday. Sunday sleeps late, pads around the house in a worn-out robe nursing a mug of java. Sunday considers the twenty million things to do from a philosophical distance - hey, no rush - that shit'll be there tomorrow. And Sunday pulls out a certain kind of album he'd play no other day.

Today's Sunday Selection© is a real test of your humanity. If you can listen to this in a simple state of relaxed pleasure, with no taint of irony or guilt, then kudos, pally. This is as good as it gets. If your mood is complicated by notions of taste, hipness and critical stance, then maybe Sunday ain't your day just yet.

Going Places, from '65, was a Number One album everywhere in the world. From Khazakstan to Constantinople, From Yemen to ... to somewhere else beginning with a Y [how about Yugoslavia, you moran? - Ed.] ... its breezy melodies wafted from the nailtician, the drive-thru, the bowling alley, the cat-house, and the carwash. And boy, did the gals ever swoon for Herb's handsomeness! Mr Alpert wasn't only a dreamboat, he had business smarts out the ass. You know he's the A in A&M, but did you know he's also the A in AT&T? You should be so smart. And check that cover. You think Abbey Road is iconic? Four blokes crossing the street? Pffft. Here's Herb being served a sky-high cocktail by a leggy waitress posing on the wing of his own plane! That's what I call in-flight entertainment! Have an irony-free Sunday, folks!