First there’s The Hand Story, or how Tom Petty learned that—as Johnny Mercer once wrote—when an irresistible force meets an old unmovable object, something’s gotta give.

He learned the hard way. What gave in this case were several bones in Petty’s left hand.

It was one night last October, and the 33-year-old Petty was in the studio of his Los Angeles home working double-time with two engineers, humping to finish the mix on his new Southern Accents album to maybe have a release by Christmasmeaning it would be his first record in two years.

Things were running late and Petty was getting a bit edgy. He rubbed his temples, took a deep breath and decided maybe a bit of fresh air might help.

“I was going up the stairwell from the studio to my house,” he remembered. “I was frustrated or something, so I just slapped my hand against the wall. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.”