From Two-Bit Monsters, 1980. This is one of many gems from the days when John Hiatt was known only to his fans, and they – okay, we – got proprietory. We didn’t want to share. Nor did we want him to get much more successful, as that would change the whole vibe.
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He was then, as Elvis Costello called him, “L.A.’s best kept secret.” We wanted him to remain our secret hero.
That secret soon got out.Soon he was living in Nashville, making landmark Americana albums, and giving Bonnie Raitt some of the greatest songs she’s sung. He went from secret hero to national treasure.
But I’ll remember him at The Palace in Hollywood, with a four-piece band burning through this and other quirkily manic rockers like this classic, and “I Spy [for the FBI].”
“Pink Bedroom”
By John Hiatt
She paints her fingernails forbidden tones
She wants nervous youth on the telephone
He don’t call
She sticks another pin
In her doll
And puts him next to her stuffed animalsShe got the tube top
She got the french heels
She got the blow dry
She got her eyes peeled
She got the tight jeans
Seventeen magazine
She got it all
She got it all
She got it all
In her pink bedroomShe thinks all her boyfriends are so dumb
She drinks coca-cola with her Valium
Mother calls
She sticks another pin
In her doll
And lets those fingers talk her into itShe got the lip gloss
She got the short-shorts
She got her records and
They’re all imports
She got her good looks
She got her yearbook
She got it all
She got it all
She got it all
In her pink bedroomThey say they got her future down at the desk
And now they’re drawing blood for the grownup test
Something crawls
Beneath her lily skin
And her doll
Is so relieved she’s lost her innocenceIt was a teen game
Now we’re serious
It’s all customized
Don’t get curious
We got your pension
And your attention
We got it all
We got it all
We got it all
We got it all
We got it all
We got it all
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