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I'm gonna go a bit esoteric... even for me. This is Clock DVA's cover of the Velvet Underground's 'Black Angel's Death Song' off the album 'Advantage'. Though I feel they kept to the spirit of John Cale's influence (making it a tad more symphonic than cacophonic); the vocals here, however, have a slight Shane McGowan drinking song tinge to them, as opposed to Lou Reed's original laconic speed-freak delivery. A great song to play on a cold night, in a poverty sparse apartment, where the heats been cut-off and you've burnt the just slid under the door eviction notice for warmth.

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Though I certainly enjoyed 'Only Theatre of Pain' & 'Catastrophe Ballet' - 'Ashes' remains my favorite of the Rozz Williams fronted Christian Death albums (which for me are the only ones really... sorry Valor). When I was stationed at NAS 1 in Sicily (back in the Nav), I would wander through the streets of Sigonella blasting this on my Walkman. I can't say why exactly, but 'When I was Bed', quickly became my favorite track off 'Ashes'. Maybe because of the way it oscillates between the crunch of Deathrock fueled guitar riffs before drifting back into these sensous ghost moans and gothic choir chants that perfectly reflected the mood swings of a lonely 18 year old me drifting around Europe on borrowed time.



Okay, time to get ready before I head out with my buddy Johnny Lawless, for an evening of decadent hell-raising!
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Getting into my 'October Music', digging up some old favorites they just don't play at the clubs anymore and dancing around the room like it was 1994 again. Tear Garden was the alchemical genius of cEvin 'Skinny Puppy' Key and Edward 'Legendary Pink Dots' Ka-Spell, creating a barrage of dance floor friendly beats driven by Rilkesque-bittersweet lyrics. Though 'In Search of my Rose' seems to be their big hit (least here in Terminus, GA), my favorite was always 'Romulus and Venus' - reminding me of beautiful ex's sitting naked with their cats and doomed lovers who painted their lives with the most delicate of shadows.

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Heading out to do some work and make some money. Here's a little traveling music by way of Johnny Cash and Eazy E!

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Here's a little eye (and ear) candy to get us through the rest of the day:

I loved Blockhead's debut 'Music by Cavelight' but then I didn't hear much from him outside a so-so track off 'Uncle Tony's Coloring Book'. Luckily for me [livejournal.com profile] vomikronnoxis posted his latest single on Facebook a few weeks back and I haven't been able to stop grooving to it since -


Switching gears now. This is possibly one of the best 80's pop songs to come out in 21st century (so far) -


... maybe my inner-DJ is off but 'Melancholy Hill' reminds me a bit of Strawberry Switchblade's Since Yesterday for some reason.

My Dad played this for me recently and it's been stuck in my head since -


... the 'John Songs' are the best!
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Actually I think the Watchmen movie would've been much improved if it had a scene where Doctor Manhattan began singing the 'Galaxy Song' to Silk Spectre when they were on Mars. Of course I also think having Rorschach sing 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life' (from 'The Life of Brian') would've been sheer genius.


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I've had this song stuck in my head all night since Vee played it for me yesterday. For one thing I've always been fascinated by the myth of the great ghost trains rumbling through the depths of sleeping America. Second I love the juxtaposition of mid-west hip-hop flow with rag-time piano rhythms:

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"Now the winter comes down
I can't stand the chill
That comes to the streets around Christmas time
And I'm buggered to damnation
And I haven't got a penny
To wander the dark streets of London"


Got the Pogues Dark Streets of London stuck in my head of late, despite my being conspicuously nowhere near just 'right of Iceland'. It started up on the way to work last Friday, the melody suddenly carving itself into a loop across the brain out of a stray memory. I like to think of it as a musical inocculation shot of sorts. Only an hour before hand I had caught a wicked variation of the Baby, it's cold out ear infection off the MARTA intercoms (cycling a steady broadcast stream of holiday themed muzak across the train platforms). It could've been much worse granted. I've seen men, strong men at that, gouge their ears with the tips of umbrellas in a vain attempt to silence the millionth chorus of White Christmas from running rampant through their skulls. Poor bastards never stood a chance... they were just born suceptible to music-viruses. Luckily I now have a fresh shot of Celtic Pub-Punk to cleanse the Christmas memes from my nervous system. A carol of the Wild if you will for those long, nocturnal walks in the cold.



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There's a little psychobilly goblin that hibernates in my soul. When that lonesome Autumn wind comes a knockin' on the door - up out of a leopard print lined coffin it jumps - reeking of stale whiskey after shave and molded black leather jackets. First things first; it releases a stream of fresh howling banshee piss into a recently emptied grave. Then with a switchblade comb made out of human bone it sculpts a pompadour slicked back with siphoned gasoline and bacon fat. Brushing his fangs with a severed finger of a toothbrush, it gargles cyanide and blood whilst muttering Poe verses into a broken mirror bought with seven years of bad luck. Next it werewolves down a candy worm and warm beer breakfast. Then the restlessness kicks in. Hung-over hungry for haunted surf guitar solos, B-Horror Movie thrills and righteous tattooed vampire pussy - the beer bellied goblin hops into its Big Daddy Roth tricked out monster hearse. With a rev of a hell fire engine the ride bucks and shudders under the power of 5000 phantom horses. The muffler dragon belches a sputter of brimstone. The goblin slip slides an old mixed tape into the stereo and stamps the pedal down a crush of it's elevated boots.

A speed demon bullet bursts out of my skull, the diminutive lil'bastard cranks up the radio (whose knob is a severed nose) and with a shrieking cackle, ricochets a wink off the rear view mirror at you. Side one clicks, hisses to life and the speaker crackles the goblin's soundtrack -











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You know the whole "Talk like a Pirate Day" thing seems kinda strange to me, especially in light of the recent outbreak of real life piracy attacks along the Somali Coast. One can only imagine the surprise the crews of the MV Sirius Star, MV Faina and Le Ponant experienced when they discovered that they weren't being boarded by Johnny Depp dressed up as Adam Ant or the cast of a Gilbert & Sullivan musical. After all galleons and Jolly Rogers are sooo last millennium... everyone knows speedboats, Ak-47s and RPGs are where it's at, savvy?

Still in the spirit of the day, I would like to share with you a little gem from my distant childhood. It's all pirates, sexual innuendo and pure 80's kitsch (so it's very much like going out to a goth club in 2005... only about 15 bucks cheaper). Ladies and Privateers, I give you... 1982's The Pirate Movie (which at the impressionable age of 11 was the funniest movie I had seen since Airplane).

Enjoy!Read more... )
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1994's ghost has been knocking on my door! For some reason I've been in a 'Cop Shoot Cop' mood here of late. Maybe it's because I've been feeling all aggro and retrostalgic these last few days. Been spinning CSC (along with Big Black, Jesus Lizard and the Skatenigs) solo skanking in the basement while the hounds bay at me in confusion. Only at night, choking on holy smoke do I finally unwind into some old Psychic TV or Nick Cave.

Here's my favorite two tracks off the Cop Shoot Cop set (both from the LP 'Release' if I'm not mistaken):



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Poetry: I like to think of this first video as a glimpse at my imaginary 1950's girlfriend. We'd lay in bed chain smoking tea while listening to be-bop and Lenny Bruce on the hi-fi. Later she'll leave me for saxophonist from Kansas City and I'll be stuck with the debt she racked up from her dealer. The broken heart and broken leg well worth the price of tiger dancing naked with her in my Greenwich Village loft.



Dance: This clip is from the 33rd Annual Henchman's Ball - a gala event where hired muscle and rent-a-goons take a break from getting beaten up in the service of low rent mod supervillains to indulge in a bit of choreographed fun. Keen listeners will of course recognize the song from the movie Ghost World.



Art: Part 3 of Early Abstractions, a Kabbalistic Kollage or art-school wank? You decide...



Music: It's been awhile since I've heard any decent new surf-guitar music. The last thing I really got into was a Satan's Pilgrims best-of compilation that I chanced upon in the used section last year. Sometimes I just need to hear something that sounds like it was on the soundtrack to a delightfully bad midnight movie... and Messer Chups delivers the goods in a style reminiscent of Man... or Astro-Man? with a slightly darker edge to it. Enjoy!

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What could be a better lunch break than having Christopher Lee break down the "Time Warp" for us? Sadly there's no pelvic thrusting to really drive you insane. Courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] weishaupt.

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