Linda Rocks

Linda had the hottest band. Waddy Wachtel on guitar, I forget who else. Most of them were in Warren Zevon's band, top studio players. They smoked behind the hottest lady rock star in the business. Linda could do it all, sweet, tender ballads, folk, rock, or anything she wanted. She was really big that year, and on that tour, she was rocking. She belted out a raunchy "Tumblin' Dice" that would have made Mick blush, topped it with "Poor, Poor Pitiful Me."

John Bonham had just died. Zeppelins mighty drummer, gone. Disco was still king in Miami, but New Wave music was everywhere, unfamiliar sounds flooding the airwaves. Kurtis Blow, the original rapper, ruled the nightclubs with These Are the Breaks while ACDC was screaming about Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap. Music was getting weird. The seventies were over like last year's shoes. For some of us, the changes were kind of abrupt. I wasn't even thirty and already I was looking back on the good old days, when I understood what was going on in music, when it wasn't all about weird hair and thin ties.

Then here came Linda on roller skates in hot pants, America's sweetheart celebrating old-fashioned rock and roll with L.A.'s hottest band and Chuck Berry's "Living in the USA." It was like she was saying, "Yeah, the seventies are over, but we'll never forget them."

She could do no wrong that night. She put a smile on every face. When she did "Alison," I started to "get" Elvis Costello. Maybe the eighties wouldn't be so bad.