| | Miley Cyrus Climb (Maxi) CD Single - Import Miley Cyrus Discography of CDs
3 tracks. Includes "Album version", "Stripped version" & "Full Pop Mix". Climb (Maxi) Music | List Price | $17.99 (You save $0.90) | | Category | Rock Albums | | Label | Phantom | | All Time Sales Rank |  377787  | | CD Universe Part number | 7935349 | | Catalog number | 1514963 | | Discs | 1 | | Release Date | May 05, 2009 |
Climb (Maxi) Review
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\" I go to open mike night at the Bucket Shop. I don’t like the music, they know I don’t, and I usually just walk in, go through the motions of complaining and the bartender serves me up a watered down Presbyterian on the house -- I drink it and leave a quarter as a tip. I know a quarter ain’t what it used to be but I like the ritual of putting it flat on the counter, tails up, and put my empty glass down on top of it. I stand up, look at the quarter through the bottom of the glass, and leave. I figure you can forgive an old man for not knowing the value of a quarter, and you can forgive an old man for willingly cheating a working woman out of a fair tip to do a meaningless ritual one more time. Maybe I think as long as I leave that quarter under that glass it’ll be like it was back then and the so-called Good Lord will pass me over one more day. Funny thing is, maybe I really do it because the last time I felt alive was when a quarter actually was a fair tip and Presbyterian was still a drink. I don’t like the music: it’s always people playing other people’s songs on an acoustic guitar, not one of ‘em can pick a guitar worth a darn; these days they just strum all the strings at once until you can’t even tell what chord they’re playing. Maybe they do it to cover up how flat or sharp they are. That’s every singer with an acoustic guitar -- flat or sharp. There used to be baritone and tenor, now there’s flat and sharp. Tonight’s different, as I start my slow and careful procession down the steps, two hands on the railing, knees shaking -- imagine that, ain’t a man alive ever made my knees shake -- only to be bested by stairs. My pride ain’t the point though. I can’t quite make out what it sounds like yet but I can feel it. The hard pack of smokes and lighter in my breast pocket are vibrating into each other, buzzing like a bee. Bass frequency. We used to just play bass in between the snare hits to keep the guitars together, real quiet. Everything just keeps getting louder, nobody listens, so things just keep getting louder, but what the hell, every once in a while a full band comes through and I’ll listen, at least for the time it takes to finish my drink. Of course, the time it takes to finish my drink does sometimes depend on whether I feel like listening. Sit down, a nod and a drink. Take out one of my shaken up smokes and light it, sit it and just let it burn down. I can’t enjoy them no more, but I like the smell and the feel. I turn my stool, focus in on the young boys playing and start hearing.Now I wouldn’t exactly say I liked it, but I was listening and I was looking. Chalk board said “Big Attack! from Philadelphia,” well ok boys, you got my attention for one drink. They all dressed the same, rather like musicians in my day, all in jeans and jean jackets a bit too tight, not like my day. Kinda looked like what I guess they would call a cowboy look in New York City. Now I ain’t gonna try to describe the sound or any of that, I don’t even know what they call the music these days and I ain’t much interested. There was something about that boy singing, or screaming or both. He strummed on chords I remembered from my day but he played so hard the sound came out wrong, and he held that neck so hard that he bent all of them strings too much. He was strangling the life out of those chords and asking questions ...
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