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Barry Manilow: Trying To Get the Feeling

Bob Spitz, Crawdaddy!, September 1977

IT'S ELEVEN-below-zero on the Avenue, pitch black and hailing glassy bullets the size of golf balls. Empty buses on the suicide run choke back jetstreams of ice-blue exhaust as they cruise blindly past miles of deserted passenger shelters. The Club Med billboards fastened to their sides seem like someone's idea of a bad joke; the Twilight Zone would be more like it. Either way, you've got to be stone wild to be out on a night like this. Even the hookers are in long pants.

Total word count of piece: 2123

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