Montag, 26. Mai 2008

Transkript eines Anfalls um 4 Uhr morgens

Once I thought they were on to something - with their anti-romance stance they made a big impression on this frustrated adolescent.

Your kiss so sweet,
Your sweat so sour.
Sometimes I'm thinking that I love you,
But I know it's only lust.

Aber das ist doch wirklich nicht die großartige Erkenntnis, als die sie uns seit 28 Jahren verkauft wird.
Heute würde ich sagen: Ja, blöd gelaufen.
Heute würde ich sagen: Streng dich gefälligst an und tau dein Herz auf, du Arschloch!

Die ganze Generation der Gang of Fours, Slits, Au Pairs, etc., etc. hat von der Denunziation der vermeintlichen Liebeslüge gelebt und ihre nunmehrigen Wiedergänger und -käuerinnen ziehen als schick gepanzerte Roboter, 28 Jahre nachdem die entsprechenden Lektionen durchgepaukt worden sind, in den selben Krieg. Für Sauberkeit und Anstand, Wahrhaftigkeit (schau mal bei Moliere nach, was den Misanthropen ausmacht) und blasiert-glasierte Distanz!
(Ach ja, so eine Eifersucht ist wirklich ein unnützer Störenfried, die gehört ins 19. Jahrhundert, das geht auch ohne, am besten geht es ohne alles, 0% Fett, 0% Schweiß, 0% Tränen, Leichen hinter Balkenbrillen!)

Wider euch tiefgekühlte Idiotinnen legen Zeugnis ab:
Carla Bozulich, Irma Thomas, Lucinda Williams, Sylvester, Mia Zapata, Aaron Neville, Melanie, Billie Holiday, H.D. Lawrence, V. Nabokov, Conor Oberst, Sally Timms, The Mekons, Dolly Parton, Christine Lavant, Hank Williams, A Subtle Plague,...

Lucinda Williams - World without Tears

Her voice, that at the height of it´s power on Carwheels and a Gravel Road , really knew how to reach you in certain lower bodily regions and generate there these special prickling sensations, here seems mangled by years of heartache (and possibly corroded by pills + alcohol as well). It´s still all about sex, as every music of the rock persuasion that´s of any use is (with the possible exception of Burzum).

A great album with much better - more tangible - songs than the ones on the overrated Essence.

Sensuality in desperation - or some such thing -, get it here in abundance:
Lame, VBR, Sharebee:

(Don´t get distracted by the shitty opening riff in Real live bleeding Fingers)

Some Videolinks:

Sonntag, 4. Mai 2008


seems to be a joke to most people, embodying all that is ridiculous about hippie culture - namely the barefoot naivety and the simple-minded desire for the unadulterated immediate real.
To most, except for Stephin Merritt and me. We know that Miss Safka's voice, if applied right, is capable of shredding the armour of cool our fellow convicts pride themselves with.
While on most of her records, especially the early ones, there's stuff you will cringe from, still you'll get plenty for avoiding her cow loving side and her "Bo Bo Parties" for Christopher Robin and the other five year olds.

Now let's go over to the record player, shall we?
Two songs from her second album:
Any Guy is a surprisingly acrid little "I don't care" song, that's put back on its feet with it's final "is she as pretty as me, HA?".
Now, hear her roar on Tuning my Guitar. Getting goosebumps?

As the 70's progressed, she left the large Woodstock audience behind, her songs seemed to withdraw into a more private setting and got a little darker. On 1974's Madrugada you can hear both. This sombre album talks about resignation and offers resource in the consolations of a kind of humane short range devotion/submission, it's intimate songs mainly adressed at the one other.

Get saved by Melanie, Maybe not for a Lifetime, maybe for a reason. Perfect suicide prevention song with an ending that rhymes with ABBA.
Holding Out, it's never easy, hold me down. Her phrasing reminds us of Van Morrison, doesn't it?

Ta Ta, till next time, when the brotherhood continues on it's crusade against cool.
(Remember kids, coolness is evil.)