We knew a woman whose charismatic lover was rumored to be a coke dealer, woman beater, demon in the flesh, etc. This is their story as I imagined it. Sometime during the 1987–88 winter I wrote the lyric over gimlets in the lobby of the Eastland Hotel on a snowy afternoon while waiting for my girlfriend, Gretchen Schaefer, to get out of class. One of my favorite songs I’ve written and, I think, one of the Fashion Jungle’s best. Too bad few people ever heard it. I recorded the first part of this track in The Basement in August 2020, and the coda is extracted from a videotape that Gretchen made of the FJ in Steve and Jeri Chapman’s basement early in 1988. Steve, bass; DH, guitar; Ken Reynolds, drums.

Don't Sell The Condo

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