The 70s: After the music had stopped, I still heard it playing

That's not my Pinto parked next to the Stone Pony;
my '74 Pinto was brown....

By the time I first got to Asbury Park in about 1975, it was starting to fade. The glory days were passing it by, fast.

But its soul remained intact, as evidenced by the music. The sound of the shore -- the soundtrack to those sticky summer nights, when freedom and possibility were straight ahead and not in the rear view mirror.

Hot dogs at Mrs. Jays, cars dragging up and Kingsley Avenue, Cokes at the HoJos, elbow to elbow at the Stone Pony and Fast Lane.

And this blasting from the Torino's 8-track.

All night long.