A few days ago, I found myself explaining to my kid, Pickle, that Lenny Kravitz’s 1998 hit Fly Away wasn’t just the sample for some new song he liked—it was the original.
He looked at me like I was trying to convince him water used to taste different.
“But the Quavo version is the song,” he said, baffled.
And that’s when it hit me: for his generation, Fly Away is Quavo. It’s ad-libs, 808s, and a new car commercial. For mine? It’s Lenny. Distortion pedals, dreadlocks, and a song that felt like rolling the windows down and driving off with no destination.