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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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7 comments:
Fucksake. I'm thinking throat lozenges.
Do you think, Mr Ishmael, that Rebekah and he croon it late of an evening? Say it ain't so, Joe.
Heart lozenges, Dr, this is all the heartache of eternity.
It was my thought, mr mongoose...got what I paid for now...a wound that'll never heal.....down on my knees tonight. But no, it ain't so, these fuckers have neither the heart nor the soul to sing the blues.
This is from one of the best albums ever made. Never got sick of it yet. Genius, start to finish.
No, nor me, Lilith; Small Change, I suggest, is a work of unparallelled genius, and he was just a boy.
I think I prefer the recorded string arrangement to the 'sax on this version but both have their charms.
I first hear Waits on that Tony Wilson programme, So It Goes, and in the same series first heard Kate and Anna McGarrigle and the Sex Pistols; easy to forgive him, therefore, all his subsequent, overblown Mancunian rubbish.
"So It Goes", Mr Ishmael. Nobody but the heathen of us remember that. Fantastic. My God. The time of the old king indeed. They had great stuff. Proper edge bands - punks like, well, almost like me. It didn't prosper, of course. Fantastic music right on the pivot of the time. I had forgotten about it. Thank-you. I shall search youtube for it.
Time it was, and what a time it was....preserve your memories.....
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