This track was conjured from blues lessons learned firsthand from cutting class to go hang out on Maxwell Street in Chicago before the marketplace was torn down. For anyone who picks up a guitar in Chicago, there is nothing but the blues–the longing to escape the grind, of being short on cash, aching from all that love done wrong amid battery-powered amps and burning oil drum garbage cans. I’d come home with a sack of cheap socks & beautifully ripe tomatoes, which seemed to be perfectly calibrated to turn rotten by the time I walked through the front door.