If you think last week’s post came from the distant past, this one is even older. Don’t ask me how. It just is. I don’t even know how the Cup’s turned out as I write this on the eve of the Brazil/Colombia match. I might be too involved with myself to even bring it around for discussion.
I feel like something’s gonna break but what do I know about anything? I’m a disembodied voice from a not-so distant past who has been responsible for some of the most atrocious and catastrophic incursions into the English Language and Her Grammars and Spellings.
I too deserve ruination but at what point in time I’m not sure. I’m feeling the Pilgrim Centrifuge as I come unstuck. There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere. But it’s in the future. And only Kurt knows how it unfolds.
626. Stinkerbell – They Do Exactly What You Think They Do!. I’m not sure if these fucked up Texas nurses have graced these digital codices yet but Lord do I like something in the gravely pit of their thorax. They’re aural ephedrine and it’s not polished enough to bring home to mom but it’ll do in a severe pinch. I’m slowly easing into the nursing home and I’m gonna be quite the handful.
627. Desi Arnaz – The Best of Desi Arnaz, The Mambo King. I think old Desi here gets relegated to kitsch because of I Love Lucy but in his defense, he did a lot to disseminate Latin sounds into the US at a time when Hispanics were exotic fruit and not on every street corner like now. I won’t speak about his powers as a singer or musician but his larger-than-life charisma shines through in these recordings without question. Go ahead and get this collection of tunes; a fine entry-level comp highlighting different styles.
628. Grief – Depression. Nurses got me thinking about Thorazine and as such it reminded me of the track by the same name on this, Grief’s first EP. It’s amazing how the human mind works and how it has rallied for years to steer me incorrectly in every possible life-choice direction that has ever presented itself to me.
629. Donna Summers – Love to Love You Baby. The title track of this album, in its sixteen-plus minute glory is what it is all about. Danceable? Yes. Could it easily be transformed into a romantic sludge song? You bet. Will I tackle such a project. Hell no. Stuff like that is best left to the experts.
630. Sunn O))) – The GrimmRobe Demos. It’s hard to believe that these guys have only been around for the last fifteen years or so. Why does it feel like Sunn O))) has been around forever? Could Sunn O))) reawaken a lost passion for the visual sex of e. e. cummings’ poetry? If old e. e. were with us today would he be having as much fun typing out Sunn O))) as I’m criminally having right now? Sunn O))). I’m pretty sure he would, but it would look like this: “[su,nn o)))]…”
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