“Money For Nothing” by Dire Straits which clocks in at 8:26.

There are very few songs that initiate a reflexive response within me similar to the old York Peppermint Pattie commercials (”When I bite into a York Peppermint Pattie, I get the cool sensation of ___”); and for those who are often in my company, I’d consider this a very good thing. The induced reaction I’ve had in the past to certain songs by Rush, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, and Black Sabbath is equal parts repressed metalhead and untamed Woodwose. It’s something best enjoyed from a distance, like Amy Winehouse, Cleveland, or the Duke lacrosse team. If you’re interested in witnessing the behavior for yourself, the best bet would be to have someone record the phenomenon on videotape so you can enjoy it later on YouTube. In fact, the resulting air guitaring alone has been known to cause minor injuries including (but not limited to) shock, awe, jealousy, and double stress fractures. Sorry Tiger.

The word ‘impressive’ does a poor job of conveying what I’m referring to here, but it’ll have to do because I’ve got to move on to something of a much grander scale. This isn’t about a simple “Immigrant Song” or “Master of Puppets”; no, this is about the most unbelievable of things: that which happens when “Money For Nothing” by Dire Straits is played in my presence. It’s nothing short of magnificent, massive, majestic, memorable, manly, and moving. My oh my.

In standard York Peppermint Pattie phrasing, I’d like to detail for you the sensation I get when I hear “Money For Nothing” by Dire Straits… 

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I get the cool sensation of ‘playing the guitar on the MTV’ and cruising around in my own jet airplane: money for nothin’, chicks for free. Ain’t nothing stopping me with this mind-dream; I close my eyes, bust out some air fingerpicking and Sprechgesang, and mentally change my name to Matt Knopfler. 

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I get the sensation of slamming down four quadruple vodkas and attacking a drum kit à la John Henry “Bonzo” Bonham. ‘Bangin’ on the bongoes like a chimpanzee’ - a fury of power explodes forth from my imaginary Ludwig kit. I am legend.

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I get the sensation of the life draining out of a bat’s body as I crush his windpipe with my teeth and bite his head clean off. “Oops, I thought it was a toy,” I tell the press. My fans in Des Moines know the truth.

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I imagine myself in the studio with Sting as he repeatedly sings ‘I want my, I want my, I want my MTV’ in partial parody of his own song “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”. It pisses me off that he can’t nail his single line in less than thirty takes, so I run off for a weekend of tantric sex with his wife Trudie Styler. Soon after that, his publishing company insists on a co-writing credit (and royalties) for the song. Our friendship hasn’t been the same since.

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I feel the sensation of having an experimental treatment that amounts to a complete blood transfusion in order to detoxify myself of drugs and disease for an upcoming European tour. I need this so that I can load up on more drugs and disease.

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I get the sensation of reaching the crossroads of US 61 and US 49 in Clarksdale, Mississippi and selling my soul to the devil in return for a style of guitar playing that, for all intents and purposes, will remain unmatched for eternity.

When I press play and crank up “Money For Nothing”, I get the sensation of flying down the FDR at 140 mph in a red Corvette, narrowly dodging motorcyclists, taxis, and the monster from Cloverfield as I speed away from the secret life I was living underground in unused subway stations with the mutant mole people. We had to install microwave ovens, move refrigerators, and make custom kitchen deliveries just to get by. Our initial bond grew out of a shared adoration of the first decade of MTV and together we lamented its decay into the nothingness it has become ever since. Almost every other night we would venture above ground to go to Times Square and stand outside of the MTV offices whispering “I want my, I want my, I want my MTV” in unified silent protest. My people!!! I will miss them.

“Money For Nothing” - get the sensation.

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*above photo is a screen grab I did from the music video found HERE.

EAR FARM’s 8+ is a weekly feature that showcases songs longer than 8 minutes. Click HERE to see the songs recently featured in EF’s 8+.