It must be a song, played with a curfew-cheating stealth and sung in those butt-strangled voices the old guys had. There shouldn't be any parts for fiddles or horns because the kind of music i mean doesn't live in halls or theaters. It's the personal music those old men talked more than crooned when they were entertaining themselves to fight the loneliness.
New York Post 1955
The Killers 1946