Calling all lovers of paisley and owners of big sunglasses...

Some of my earliest music listening memories involve Jeff Lynne productions: that magical first Traveling Wilburys album, George Harrison's Cloud Nine, Roy Orbison's Mystery Girl. I knew even then that Lynne was a shitty dresser, and it was no surprise when Paul McCartney, eight years too late and three after bad-mouthing him, hooked up with him hoping for a hit (it kinda worked); but as long as I didn't have to listen to any ELO hits beside "Evil Woman" and "Xanadu" I could forgive his missteps. Here's my attempt at justice.