For those who don't know, the quote is from the original version of The Taking of Pelham One Two Three.
Thought I was going to be miserable for a couple days.
Finally started going back through my iTunes library in reverse 'date played' order. Apparently, I last played it in May this year!
It's this, by the way. I recommend loud volume and gently swaying with eyes closed.
Then I heard it, the other day.
Turns out it's L'Enfant, by Vangelis.
And it's still awesome.
AIIIIGH.
/me starts trying to shove travel and tickets around...
By the way, this reviewer pleases me when describing Alabama 3: "They swing like the devil’s own dick."
Damn right they do, bitches.
Pfffft.
Imagine my happiness, though, to find that there are two remixes of the track on the project album Block Rockin' Boots, both by Copycat - "I Always Begin Without You" and "Where Do I Begin (A Copycat Remix)." Both preserve my beloved Beth's vocals. The prior is a mash-up of (obviously) "Where Do I Begin," and U2's "With Or Without You," among others, and the latter is a straight remix.
But it hurts to watch those videos.
WHY? Why only two dates in the Eastern U.S., on consecutive nights? WHY THAT WEEKEND? **sob whimper moan**
See, GM's forgotten all about The Noise and what it means.
But we haven't. Check that shit out.
That is a sound so pure, so manly, that my ovaries, yes my fucking ovaries quiver in my foppish body at the very wavelengths of it. I am detesticled at its wondrous bassline. I stand before the Noise and my masculinity is not worthy.
To Ride the Noise?
That would be to wear the balls of Steve McQueen while punching with the fists of Clint Eastwood from behind the sneer of Yaphet Kotto and insulting with the voice of James Earl Jones.
There would be no lesser run around the fucking track.
Okay, okay. Chrysler. I know. I know. The SENTIMENT FUCKING STANDS.
Then, at some point simultaneously, PA systems all over the place would suddenly start broadcasting a version of Underworld's incomparable rez/cowgirl.
The unexplained rez event.
It would rule.
Maybe if you were ambitious the kit would have speakers too. I dunno. Maybe for logistics purposes you could concentrate on one public area and spend a week planting 'em around that area, trying not to get caught and beat down for terrorist activities by our new security conscious overlords.
Still. It would kick.
"I was there / When they crucified the lord / I said "Hello! Hello Jesus, / I'm Johnny Cash."
Alabama 3, despite many rumors to the contrary, are not dead, nor are they gracing the inside of various penal institutions (well, at least, they weren't on May 21st, 2005). I was privileged to attend a full session of the First Presleyterian Church of Elvis the Divine (UK), presided over by The Right Reverend D. Wayne Love, along with Larry Love and Daisy Love and various other pimps and hos of the congregation as they preached to a willing choir. Despite a near-total lack of advertising, the gig (at the Carling Academy Glasgow) was packed fairly tight.
I've been a willing devotee of the Church since several years before their rise to media notice with The Sopranos; I found Woke Up this Morning on a sampler CD from a record company and chased down Exile on Coldharbour Lane with the drive of a man promised a beer for herding irate camels across the midst of the Gobi desert in June after being fed a meal of salt pork and pretzels.
I found in their music something I had been missing, up to then. One of the tracks on Exile spoke to me - no, two did, really. I had been (and still am) a fan of some electro and pure techno dance music. I've been known to waft through more laid-back venues as well. D. Wayne Love he spoke to me, though, when he said
You don't dance to techno anymore
I don't see under the strobe light on the dance floor
it's been a while since I saw your ultraviolet smile
you don't dance to techno anymore
...and before I could recover from the truth he was speaking, he continued, saying to me
child-
Don't you go to Goa.
Before long I was looking for his wisdom on the shelves with every trip to the record store, with every surf to Amazon.com. I found a darker side of D. Wayne and Larry in La Peste, their next full album release to hit the U.S. shores, with shivers moving up my spine as I heard about the Mansion on the Hill, Too Sick to Pray. I knew that Cocaine (Killed my Community) when I found myself Walking in my Sleep, waking up as I was about to Wade into the Water - and it weren't for no baptism, neither, brother. The Sad-eyed Lady of the Lowlife was watching me from across the canal, standing in The Hotel California - and it was Sinking.
Year or two later, nursing a whisky and holding my hurting head, and a disc of wisdom and folksong was laid down on my doorstep by UPS. Told me about the problems I was having, and told me about what I had to do, and what I had to call upon - the Power in the Blood. Woody Guthrie was Reachin', and it was Year Zero; I took my Two Heads and made a deal with ol' Scratch. Buttoned a Yellow Rose into my lapel, and me and The Devil went Down to Ibiza. Them was some Badlands, brother, but he'd made me Bulletproof and they wouldn't Let the Caged Bird Sing. I cried for D. Wayne, saying Lord Have Mercy, The Moon has Lost the Sun, and they let me Come on Home, and off I went into R.E.H.A.B..
Now it's 2005, and I went to Scotland to see the Boys and Girls preach the creed. I can say unreservedly that I went to Scotland to see a band - and it was good. I took the Last Train to Mashville from Buchanan Street station; The Gospel Train that is. I made it to the Academy with my mate in time to hear the Intro, and as the Adrenaline began to hit we warned each other to ' Keep Your Shades On, brother.' Waved my arms Up Above My Head when D. Wayne asked me Have You Seen Bruce Richard Reynolds? but Let it Slide during the Terra Firma Cowboy Blues, because Larry Love had a question for me. How can I Protect You, he asked, when there's Honey in the Rock? I didn't know but didn't care, because as I had greeted him when he stepped out on stage, Hello, I'm Johnny Cash. But we staggered to the pub, tinnitus in our heads and music in our souls, and drank pints of 80 shilling until the sound settled into a warm long hum before meandering back to Partick.
Alabama 3 have a current info page (including discography) up at:
written originally for Everything2.com
Wise man.
My only annoyance is that the BitTorrent tracker for their other albums doesn't seem to be working at the moment. Hmph. Must keep trying.
Newman's Own Suicide Mind Eraser
like, pronto. Capice? Now.
It is by the inestimably awesome Don Red and can be purchased for the low low price of six clams here. There are a few tracks available as full mp3 on that website as well.
This genius is not safe for work, bitches.
...I present my creation: the Archetypal Car Chase.
Mix.
Burn.
RIP.