They were playing Warren Zevon in the pizza joint where I sat nursing a Chinese cola: a little "Mohammed's Radio" in the afternoon to help digest your shrimp-and-anchovy special. A few more of his toe-tapping near-hits wafted from the speakers, 20-year-old sagas of defeat, dissolution, and romanticism all shot to hell. Cool, I thought. And then out of nowhere came the sickening death-rattle grin of "Ain't That Pretty at All," a 1982 song that never grazed the charts or the anthologies, a roar of spleen, contempt, and dismay that summed up Warren Zevon's noble philosophy, not to mention his illustrious career. "So I'm gonna hurl myself against the wall/Cuz I'd rather feel bad than not feel... More >>>