Senior year in high school, I got jumped by this girl who was a junior at a different high school, but who I played with in a pit orchestra, because I played the saxophone, and she thought that that was sexy as hell because Supertramp was her favorite band, and they've got that guy who wails on the saxophone on "Fool's Overture". Well, I wasn't about to argue with logic like that, and I graciously allowed her to deflower me. I have to admit, this went a long way towards making me a fan.
We spent a lot of time in her room listening to Even in the Quietest Moments and Crime of the Century, but Breakfast in America had been played to death on the radio. Paris is actually a somewhat unbalanced live album, with some great tracks and some which really don't sound as good live as the studio versions, but it was easier to just put it on and let it go while we made out. Her parents always left for the weekend, literally gone Friday night and didn't come home til Sunday afternoon, so we spent hours and hours at her house, a lot of it in her room, and a lot of it naked. Damn, those were the days.
So anyway, I appreciate Supertramp for their quiet, pensive songs about insanity, and for finally getting me laid my senior year of high school.