We're here for ten more songs from the 1975 Hideaway 100. Today, we break into the Top 40 of our list with numbers 40 through 31. If you've missed any part of our 1975 Hideaway 100 countdown, you can catch up here.

I got to know the guy who oversaw the property we leased for The Drive pretty well through hours of early morning conversations when we were the only two people in the whole building. He was the longtime caretaker of the property and had seen many tenants pass through the building's doors through the years. He grew up here, an Air Force brat like me, and he loved music so he was thrilled when the radio station moved in. He was six or seven years older than me but we liked a lot of the same songs and albums though he made it clear more than once that the only concerts he attended now were country concerts because that was where all the pretty women were. One morning we were talking and "Walking In Rhythm" came over the station monitor and his eyes just lit up. He paused, rubbed his head, and said he loved this song. Said it reminded him of hanging with his three or four best friends back in the day. From then on, every time the song was played between 5AM and 3PM (my usual office hours), he'd make his way to my office and say "Thank You". It was pretty cool.

"Fight The Power" is another dose of straight-up funk. The song's in-your-face intensity is palpable and I'm always down for resistance against oppression & injustice. Been listening to this song more and more lately.

Not sure there was a bigger ZZ Top fan than my Uncle Sam in 1975. He constantly listened to the Tres Hombres and Fandango eight-tracks at home and in his baby blue Gran Torino. He dropped the band's lyrics and song titles into regular conversation and may have even driven into Houston to see that little ol' band from Texas. Despite all of this, Uncle Sam is not the first thing I think of when the mighty opening riff of "Tush" begins to play. Nope, I usually think How cool would it be to hear that scorching intro to "La Grange"?

Recorded in 1972, "Amie" wasn't released as a single until 1975 and Dad fell in love with the blast of country rock shortly thereafter so I came to enjoy the track through osmosis. It's been a staple on my country rock and southern rock playlists ever since and I lobbied hard to make it part of The Drive's initial playlist though the powers that be insisted we play the single version, arguing that it was the more familiar version. Due to listener demand, the longer album version soon became the one in our rotation.

After two ambitious but ultimately unsuccessful albums, Springsteen went all in on his tales of youthful rebellion and escapism with "Born To Run". Where some hear overblown production, others hear a well-produced Wall Of Sound. Where others hear strained melodramatic vocals, true believers hear passionate and dynamic harmonies that build throughout the song. Some say the lyrics are clichés but fans relate to the vivid imagery. "Born To Run" always sounded like a big IMPORTANT rock song to these young dumb ears but I had no skin in the game so I didn't appreciate it for what it was, what it is, until later. Is it my favorite track from The Boss? No, but I certainly get it, now more than ever.

"I'm Not In Love" sounded unlike anything else on the radio in 1975. Fifty years later, that still holds true. The song is lush, with ethereal voices washing in and out of the mix, leaving behind the simple haunting melody. The 3:47 single edit distilled the essential elements of the song down for this pop radio listener but once I discovered the just over six-minute album version, it was audio bliss. You know the feeling. It washes over you, through you, and you feel lifted, in touch with a higher level almost visualizing the music. No? Just me?

Love the way "Fame" comes fading in before hitting a funky stride. With lyrics from two of the most famous people in the world at the time, the tone is cynical and confrontational with the lyric "bully for you/chilly for me" standing out to my ears. I'm having trouble thinking of any song remotely funky in Lennon's catalog but Bowie conjures up the funk with guitarist Carlos Alomar's riff carrying the song. Each time I hear "Fame", I hone in on a different aspect of the song's performance and production as it reveals itself over and over, further proof that for all of Bowie's artistic gifts, it was his choice of collaborators and sidemen that set him apart.

We didn't hear "Fire On High" until late in 1981 on our new favorite radio station, 96.1 KLPX. Dad had two compilations featuring hits and highlights from Electric Light Orchestra but I had no idea they were behind "Fire On High" until I heard the jock back announce the track one night. My first guess was The Alan Parsons Project. If atmospheric conditions are optimal and I am in the right mood when this song comes on, it is the Greatest Song in the World, flipping and toggling all my switches. Today, it is merely their number 32 song on the 1975 Hideaway 100.

"How Long" was what I used to say when this song came on the radio as in How long until this song ends? Obviously, I wasn't a fan of it then but I grew into it and have come to appreciate it on several levels. Love Paul Carrack's smooth, relaxed vocals and the way the uptempo music still has a certain darkness to it. "How Long" is always welcome when it comes on; it has a unique chameleon-like ability to blend in with whatever came before and pass the baton to whatever comes next in a playlist. Plays well with rock, pop, country, jazz or soul.
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