Right now, I’m listening to a lot…and I mean, a LOT…of Toto. Yes. Toto. It's totally Toto Appreciation Day. All day, every day, in fact. For some reason the sweet, sweet words that Paich and Porcaro skillfully blended into the megahit Africa fills the massive void that would otherwise be lining my stomach. That and whiskey.
The wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what’s right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure whats deep inside, frightened of this thing that I’ve become
It really is all about the fantastic rhyme scheme and word choice. Let's not kid ourselves. It was 1982, I was seven, and I didn't know what exactly Kilimanjaro, Olympus and the Serengeti actually referred to, but it didn't matter: The words were fucking fantastic. I remember asking my pops how to spell the words and then going to town with the corresponding volumes of our Encyclopaedia Brittanica. (Also of note is that, within the same year, I was also floored by the use of the word "Vegamite" in Men At Work's Down Under, and couldn't figure out what that shit was for the longest, as our Encyclopaedia set neglected to cover Australian foodstuffs at that time.)
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