Cinematic music 3/28 [2022)

https://share.stationhead.com/EfsvX7iV94J

“Tema d’amore”–Ennio Morricone

“13 Angels Standing Guard ‘Round the Side of Your Bed”–Silver Mt. Zion

“Let’s Get Lost”–Chet Baker

“Pablo and Andrea”–Yo La Tengo

“I’m a Fool to Want You”–Billie Holiday

“Purple Rain”–Prince

“Moonlight Mile”–The Rolling Stones

“Expecting to Fly”–Buffalo Springfield

“Holes”–Mercury Rev

“The Light Before We Land”–The Delgados

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TkK9YTwAjFgEg0sBv5qd3?si=f7ac3a85d5044581

IMG_5112

41020 [2021)

A silver mt. zion.

Montreal.

Hotel tango.

Sighing synths.

Leonard Cohen.

Getting cold.

Lee Hazlewood.

Arizona into the Rockies.

Wyoming.

Road music.

Music of wide open spaces.

Charles Mingus checks in.

Bob Dylan.

Tumbleweeds.

Was QAnon bullshit?

WFMU seems to think so.

And all their hipster listeners.

Missing the Godspeed You! Black Emperor.

Chris Isaak.

My Bloody Valentine.

R.E.M.

Automatic for the people.

Rightly asking if this guy, Pauly Deathwish, is Borat.

Elvis working at the truck stop.

Nevada.

New Mexico.

Into French philosophy at a Barnes & Noble.

Film criticism.

Cinematic music.

The great philosophers.

Taking on Philip Glass.

Rachmaninoff.

Swedish version.

Poor girl with grey teeth.

Dirty bra.

Addicted to Kardashians.

And meth.

Smoking candy cigarettes.

Brutal, cold world.

No fall back.

Withdrawal back.

Wanna lock me for blood pressure.

It ain’t no cakewalk.

Ripoff.

Tech moves fast.

Write anything.

Better than nothing.

Bad press.

No press.

You have a printing press.

The Innocence Mission.

Miles.

Porgy and Bess.

A thousand planes.

Two ambient instrumentals to start this album.

Setting an amber tone.

Pensive.

Ex-pensive.

Time is a luxury.

And Miles comes in.

Bending notes.

Sighing again.

Like music from Big Pink.

John Simon.

Leonard Cohen.

Very much of the Deserter’s Songs type.

Song cycle.

Van Dyke.

And Coltrane leaps in.

No bends.

Solid sax.

Honky.

Low mids.

Leaping up.

Transposition.

A little noodling.

And WHAT THE FUCK.

Now we are in Blue Hawaii.

On a jukebox in Nashville.

Sawdust on the floor.

Just spit that tabaccy anywheres.

It really is Elvis.

Loaded.

Lou Reed.

Doo-wop.

We’re in east Texas with George Jones.

Straight country.

Classic country.

Bona fide redneck interpolation.

“Daisies on Your Doorstep”.

Troubled relationship.

Robert Altman.

Nashville.

Hitchcock.

Traut.

Birds.

Grandaddy invades!

Modesto!!

And back to EXPANSIVE verb.

Cathedral.

Serious shit.

Country gothic.

Phil Spector would have loved this.

The plandemic that killed Phil Spector.

Biggest celebrity to buy the farm.

Buy the farm?

Or sell the farm?

During this whole plandemic.

Write copy.

Boilerplate.

You have no publicity.

I block all reposts.

I wanna EARN it.

Organic.

Diminished 7th.

Dissolve into what?

More Mercury Rev homage.

Drums from “Desperado”.

Another lonely bloke ended by “Holes”.

Favorite song ever.

Happy end.

Drunk room.

Tom Waits.

The chord.

Spring.

Le Sacre.

Back to regularly scheduled programming.

Knife in the Water.

Austin.

R.E.M. again.

Big Star.

John Cale droning away on the viola.

No tremolo.

Swing it.

Ragged time.

Texarkana.

Arkansas.

And Texas.

Definite Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci nod.

Nick Drake.

Again The Innocence Mission.

Birds.

Pink Floyd.

Fairport Convention.

Psych barn.

The Byrds.

Gram Parsons.

Neil Young big time.

Stooges meet Beach Boys meet Messiaen.

But the Bowie knife is orange.

Made in Germany.

Kanye West and Wayne Coyne drop in.

An anti-hit.

When you can sing, but you get raped by auto-tune.

Loosen that shit up.

Going all Arabic on me.

Raga.

Spinal Tap.

Clouds of sound on almost every track.

A very ambient album.

Mood set.

Mood retained.

Mature.

Duran Duran.

Peaches DJ Berlin.

Where’s Warhol?

Nigel Godrich.

Jonny Greenwood.

Thom Yorke.

Grinderman.

Roger Waters again.

Microtonal blues.

Straight into Bjork.

Does she umlaut?

Sounds of a Mac.

Swan.

Alarm clock.

Gentle waking.

Paganini.

Rachmaninoff.

Elton John.

Stevie Wonder.

Sly Stone.

James Bond in Rio.

Drax.

Os Mutantes.

Jobim.

Korean frogs.

Shinto.

Spy guitar for reprise.

Tom Verlaine.

Richard Lloyd.

Paul Simon.

Rhythm of the saints.

Graceland.

Beethoven emperor concerto.

Slow.

Beloved.

Tokyo.

Press roll.

Sushi.

Kill bounce.

Phil Selway.

Colin Greenwood?

A masterful track.

“Icelandic Pastiche”.

NOW WE’RE TALKING.

Papa Trump back in the house.

For the apocalypse.

Rocky Balboa.

L.L. Cool J.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Second coming.

To save.

Vengeance is his.

Everyone given a chance.

A fair chance.

NASA.

I hear a single.

“Landslide”.

Wisconsin decertified.

Ramthun came through.

About fucking time.

There’s a riot goin’ on.

Paperclip Nazis.

Eric Carmen.

Smokey Robinson.

Tears of a motherfucking clown.

Oboe.

Michael Stipe.

Gil Evans.

Having the French horns get groovy.

Amelie.

Sketches of Spain.

Sunday morning.

Loveless.

Kevin Shields.

Belinda.

The Soft Bulletin.

Christ coming down from the clouds.

Like a ton of bricks.

Anvil.

Don’t call it a comeback.

Not all the way.

Staple Singers.

Rick Danko.

Rocket pans across stereo field.

Jesus talkin’.

Crucified.

Died.

Buried.

AND ROSE AGAIN, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Jesus more space than NASA.

Really a masterpiece of sample placement.

Crystal-clear mix.

Clouseau.

Peter Sellers.

Bass solo.

Absolute Mingus.

Bloody jaw-dropping.

This is like a fucking lost Roland Kirk album.

This track!

Concerto for Booty and Orchestra.

Montreux.

Can never spell.

System hacked.

No more spelling.

Adieu au langage.

Flute loops.

Cocteau Twins.

Ties together album.

Last track coming on like Faust.

Built to Spill.

Silver Apples.

In memory of a bloke who bit it.

End of Night on Earth.

Real recorder.

Charity.

You will live forever, my friend.

I never knew you.

You aren’t forgotten.

Thought of you put in this track.

Catharsis.

Yerself is steam.

Smashing Pumpkins.

Siamese.

Great album by Pauly Deathwish.

Spotify.

iTunes.

Solid.

-PD


drugs [2021)

We are finally catching up with Pauly Deathwish.

Here on his sixth album, drugs.

Good psychedelic surf start.

The romance must have seemed possible.

Christian trappings.

A great opening track.

Psychedelic Christianity.

Think of those private press releases from the ’60s and ’70s.

I’m hearing the joy and gravity of Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

The breakdown of this song “An Ocean of Cough Syrup” is where it’s at.

Maybe a bit of Kevin Ayers.

Wasted innocence.

After the party.

The party at the end of the world.

Certainly song lyrics reminiscent of Wayne Coyne.

Sonic Youth.

Yummy Yummy Yummy.

Pop psych.

Monkees.

Maybe the romance has faded.

Tabloid.

Even Dire Straits.

Walk of life.

Track 2 with acrobatic chord changes.

Music school.

Straight-up Fort Leavenworth presentation.

A pop song about biological warfare, economic warfare, psychological warfare, and divide/conquer.

This is some serious shit.

Not sure whether to call Billy Bragg or Glenn Greenwald.

This is the kind of shit that wins Nobels.

So maybe we are hearing the new Dylan here.

Imagine if Thom Yorke actually had something to say.

The bends.

Lift.

Leonard Cohen.

John Cale.

Anthemic.

This dude is definitely right-wing.

I guess you could say.

Imagine if Bob Dylan was actually in the John Birch Society.

That’s what you get here.

Hey, take it or leave it.

Ezra Pound!

But this dude is all about ‘merica.

And i got no problem with it.

Climax.

Constitution of the USA.

Time’s up.

“memes at the ready”.

Information warfare taken into the realm of head music.

Songwriting.

This guy is a danger…to the lame liberal establishment.

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS RELEASED 7 ALBUMS THIS SUMMER!!!!!!!

Kraftwerk.

Jon Spencer.

Martin Rev dipping Copenhagen.

Ministry?

Butthole Surfers?

Dabbling.

“Latinas for Trump”.

Wow.

Track 3 is a trucker song.

Set in Switzerland.

With production like Nigel Godrich.

It’s a long track.

But enjoyable.

Drum machine and acoustic guitar.

And funky clavinet.

Jerry Reed.

Amos Moses.

Yodeling!

FUcking hell.

Haven’t heard this since Jerry Lee.

Dwight Yoakam.

Chris Isaak.

But this is the kinda shit cognizant about There’s a Riot Goin’ On.

Spaced cowboy.

Travelogue of Swiss sites from cinema history.

I have a feeling this guy would drink Klaus Schwab’s blood.

This conspiracy platter is fine listening.

Variety.

French/German.

No Italian.

Except Cortina d’Ampezzo.

No Romansch.

Motorik.

NEU! meets Gram Parsons.

Who is/was this “Swiss Alps Truck-Driving Gal”?

Cosmic funk.

Like French band Air.

Great bassline.

Dancy filler track of highest quality.

Mike Lindell needs to hear this shit.

mark_packet.

recieve_good.

What if Wayne Coyne and Dave Fridmann actually made songs that spoke to something larger?

They’ve hit it occasionally.

You gotta have Jesus in your heart.

Brian Eno first four records spun out again and again.

Cornelius.

Stereolab.

And WHAT THE FUCK?!?

Delta blues?

Country blues???

Yes, indeed.

“COVID-19 Blues”.

Like late-period Dylan.

Seriously.

If Dylan passes, this dude is next up.

I know it sounds implausible.

Communism used to be risqué.

Now the tables have turned.

Paul Joseph Watson needs to hear this shit.

The human condition.

Dr. Steve Pieczenik needs to hear this song, “COVID-19 Blues”.

This is Stax.

Muscle Shoals.

Atlantic.

Booker T.

But with that San Antonio twist.

Pauly Deathwish from the Alamo city.

Augie Meyers.

Flaco Jimenez.

Is Trump still the President? ūüėČ

When was this written?

Why that move to Bedminster?

Cabinet meeting.

A unifying song.

Like “Dixie”.

Ask Abraham Lincoln about “Dixie”.

Masked and anonymous.

QAnon line as money shot.

Sweet harmonica.

Linn drums.

Beck.

Loop.

It don’t matter.

This record rocks the Walmart parking lot.

GUITAR SOLO!

Jimmy Vaughn.

B.B. King.

Richard Manuel tickling the ivories.

Band brown album.

Call Q.

Call Mojo.

Call Uncut.

Side two for all you vinyl lovers.

“Let’s Get Creative”.

Floyd delay.

Sexy song.

J. Spaceman.

Jeff Tweedy.

Kid A.

Really special production.

Which just goes to show that anything can be done with an iPhone.

Except privacy.

Tim Cook cocksucker.

In shitty record store.

Radiohead were our Beatles.

Or their Beatles.

Now many friends have left.

You can’t say White Lives Matter.

Can someone please tell Pauly Deathwish this?

Not that he SAID it.

Because he didn’t.

Trail of Dead.

Which makes sense.

Read this motherfucker’s bio on Spotify.

No slouch.

I happen to know some extra details which I may divulge at a later date.

Lots of training in music composition.

Multiple touches with Nadia Boulanger.

Sexy song.

T. Rex.

Bolan.

Jonny Greenwood.

Scott Pilgrim.

Edgar Wright needs to hear this shit.

No cap.

Dead ass.

Trans.

Neil Young.

Dead Man.

Thurston Moore needs to hear this shit.

Funny mention.

Watch the water.

August 20.

Rollerskate Skinny appreciation society.

St. Johnny.

Boo Radleys.

First Stereolab album.

Grandaddy.

Harvest drums.

Like it!

Like a Sonic Youth country album.

Made in a barn.

Nothing Ween about this shit.

Except for the trucker song.

Which is funny as fuck.

This dude definitely a QAnon.

“Midnight Rider”.

Paul Revere.

One if by…two…

Mercury Rev.

Suzanne Thorpe.

Applied memetics.

Oh shit.

First Eno record.

Desert island.

THIS is impressive.

Turns out to be motto of 4th Psychological Operations Group (4thPOG) at Fort Bragg.

The PSYWAR just got real.

Vietnamese ghosts amplified.

But this is Chinese.

China bio attack.

Fauci through China.

Focus on Peter Daszak and his absurd opera-singer brother.

There is going to be hell to pay.

Q-uantum of solace.

PCAPs.

Obviously, Pauly Deathwish loves the instrumentals from Bowie’s Low.

This is a constant touchstone.

Trance.

Meditative techno.

Ugh.

When the bass drops in on “Verbum Vincet ’72”.

Who was Q?

Who is Q?

Was Q a psychological operation?

From whence might it have emanated?

Roger Waters.

Hell to pay.

Criminal networks wiped off the face of the earth.

Peking opera.

Sue me.

LeBron James is a worthless cocksucker.

I think I would get along with this Pauly Deathwish guy.

8964.

We have it all…in Utah.

“Bluffdale” like Marquee Moon.

Meets chiptune.

Super Marquee Moon.

Even a bit of John Bonham.

Good drum sound.

Dubstep?

Riots worldwide.

No vaccine passports.

Here’s where BLM and MAGA come together.

Don’t vax us, man.

A unifying event.

The real racists are the totalitarian Democrats.

Am I doing this right?

Pepe Lives Matter needs to hear this shit.

Klaus Voorman bass.

Leave it in.

Smacked out of your gourd.

Phil Spector murdered by the Rona.

Lee “Scratch” producing The Clash.

People want to sleep forever.

Sleep through this global nightmare.

Gotta wake up.

But the reality is crushing.

So God gives us solace here and there.

Black ark.

Meandering.

Oar.

Moby grape.

Hal Blaine back in the barn stoned on some world-class shit.

Nodding.

Space-age.

Astral weeks.

Nick Drake.

Ending album on serious note?

“Cotton Ball Soup”.

Will the masses win?

Against the vaccine passport bastards?

Montreal.

Where’s GYBE?

No heroes can be found.

Where’s Thom Yorke?

Radiohead?

Bob Dylan?

WWIII.

iTunes.

Spotify.

-PD

glitch [2021)

Cobra and phases.

Emptying a sampler.

Pierre Henry.

Schaeffer.

Always Flaming Lips.

A twist on bass.

Fridmann.

The church of Michael Ivins’ hair.

Jazz odyssey.

He wrote this.

Straight up.

Bold start to Pauly Deathwish’s 5th album.

Stretching out.

Space jazz.

Squiggle.

Sonic Youth.

Watch for upcoming single.

Cleared.

Glenn Branca.

Bitches brew.

Live eviL.

Mercury Rev.

Grassy.

Hit to death.

John McLaughlin.

Tribute to Jack Johnson.

Steve Gadd slow nerve action.

Hendrix.

Chuckin’.

Television.

Tom and Richard.

Hippies cool at CBGB.

Makeover.

Bowery toughened.

Are you experienced?

Paul Simon never sounded this tough.

Or desperate.

Always too cool.

But the lyrics give him a run.

Into Radiohead.

Another COVID album.

The best.

Pauly Deathwish.

Headlines.

Zeitgeist.

Epstein.

McAfee didn’t uninstall himself.

Charlotte Gainsbourg.

Lady Godiva.

A dentist chair in Florida.

Soros’s scumbag Rubin.

Forgot a fuck.

Not for kids.

Not safe for work.

F-bomb Ferguson.

Plastic Ono.

Primal.

John Paul Jones keys.

Real.

Frustration key of E.

The pitched song.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor.

Remember this connection.

“Montreal Heartbreak”.

Pure perfection.

Repetition.

Bravery.

Transient random-noise.

Hal Blaine on Harvest.

Trying to make it pay.

Hotel to Tango.

Stopped in Oklahoma.

Back when concerts were played in Austins.

Tonight’s the night.

Neil in Ontario.

A Canadian pastiche.

Bowie low.

Cohen Quebec.

Visconti.

The cure.

Ivermectin.

Hydroxychloroquine.

Disintegration.

The only artist to review his own albums.

Because, you know, fuck it!

9/11 will come out.

Everything building to a head.

First Zeppelin album.

Black mountain side.

Jimmy’s eyes glowing magenta.

They tell me he’s evil.

Maybe.

But you gotta know the story of the blues.

I tried to sell my soul to the Devil.

But I am saved by the blood of Jesus Christ.

Jesus protected me.

Satan wasn’t buying.

Down in the basement of the Gunter Hotel.

I tried to sell my soul for the world.

But God didn’t let it happen.

Thinking it was bad enough.

Only through Jesus am I saved.

The worst among sinners.

Trying to gain the whole world.

Willing to forfeit my soul.

God is good.

And I can out-produce Jimmy Page.

Because God is my guide.

I have a dirty mouth.

Mary Magdalene.

Go and sin no more.

We’re in a fucking war.

We gotta put Jesus first.

On the battlefield.

Out greatest stealth.

Delta blues.

Emerald Mound.

Barbecue.

Poor.

Rural.

I don’t know how to make copies.

And my black neighbors don’t know how to use the internet.

Joe Biden can get fucked.

But me, I like women with big tits.

Alex Jones quote.

I relate.

I don’t wanna be a part of this sick cult.

We need God on the battlefield.

Mercy is waiting even for Jimmy Page.

Turn from the evil ways.

Recognize King Jesus.

The sky is crying.

Hound dog.

Muddy.

Wolf.

Flange.

Phase.

Straight Thelonious.

With Coltrane.

Miles.

Pre-electric.

Second jazz tune.

Straight off blues.

The Monk solo.

Dissonant as a motherfucker.

MTHRFCKR.

Acciaccatura.

Who, me?

Carnival.

Honing in.

D.

Watery solo.

Buttholes.

Kuntz.

Is a joke?

Weird Al.

The Residents.

Don Cherry.

Malachi Thompson.

Soprano trombone.

Roland Kirk.

Reeded brass.

Klang.

Straight jazz.

Philly Jo.

Watch for first cover.

Unpredictable.

Mercury Rev.

John Peel.

Straight into a QAnon song.

Reggae.

Durham.

CodemonkeyZ.

Flynn, in fact, did not go to jail.

Spy dub.

Bob Marley gets all conspiratorial.

Haiti.

Obama gets arrested at his own birthday party.

Strzok blocked on Twitter.

Army Counterintelligence.

A bunch of cunts?

Not Seth Keshel.

The real deal.

Tony Shaffer.

Counterterrorism.

Will the FBI be shut down?

Department of Justice is the very heart of the Deep State.

Rosenstein is linchpin.

Bill Barr was miss.

Cymbals Eat Guitars.

Each given a chance.

Lou Reed.

Rollerskate Skinny.

Music like this hasn’t been made in 30 years.

Bowie would be proud.

The debris from the Nirvana signing.

The truly good bands.

Some Boo Radleys here.

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

Beach Boys.

Good production.

Lee “Scratch”.

Black (Oak) Ark.

A disgusting record collection.

Mildew.

Lovingly preserved in filth.

Vinyl still good.

Cop shoot cop.

Strong statement against Antifa.

Dylan.

This guy is bold.

Deserter’s.

Amy Helm?

Rambo.

J. Spaceman.

Jack Fate.

Dylan tongue cheek.

Summer 2020.

BLM.

Only person to listen to this.

Pet Sounds.

Bellingham.

Fredonia.

SUNY.

Boces.

Wanker jazz.

Deep.

Boys peeling.

Give the anarchist a cigarette.

This is a fucked up record.

Calling David Lynch.

Gonna be hard for the Left to write off this guy.

Paradigm shift.

This dude troublemaker.

Name fits.

Trail of dead.

We know you, but do you know us?

Debord, eh?

Capitalism!

Soundgarden.

Chossudovsky.

Deep Pieczenik research.

9/11.

Space Force.

Satellites.

Leonardo.

NRO.

NGA.

And the beloved NSA.

More accurately: CYBERCOM.

Not yet split?

Nakasone double duty?

Architecture?

Who could bring down?

Two QAnon songs in a row.

Beatles.

White Album.

Magical Mystery.

Macca bass line.

Welcome to the revolution.

Sgt. Pepper.

Euros Childs.

Megan Childs.

Gorwel Owen.

Beautiful breakdown.

Bert Williams.

Good shit!

The jazz and blues build up into rock and roll.

Conspiracy songs.

Fort Meade on repeat.

780thC.

Army G2.

Cheyenne Mountain Alerts.

Air Force Cyber.

MARSOC.

Strobo.

Marquee Moon.

Big Pink.

Rhythm of the saints.

Tuatara.

Crime podcast.

Tettix Wave Accumulator?

The Supremes.

Berry Gordy trippin’ balls.

A Lisbeth Salander ballad.

Noomi Rapace.

FBI + CIA.

Both worthless.

But serves to delineate.

Interior and exterior.

Intel romance.

Smarter than Strzok and Page.

Richard Lloyd.

Too fucked up to catch Velvets.

I hear you.

It’s a bitch.

Rick Danko.

Thom Yorke knob twiddler.

Eno in Roxy.

Bogart.

The big sleep date.

Noir and chill.

Mulholland.

Breathless.

The harder they fall.

Shoot the piano player.

Doug Sahm.

We are here in San Antonio.

We are making the best of it.

Driving around.

Eating ZZ Top nachos.

Beer drinkers and hell raisers.

A real jalapeno.

Australia to steam like teapot.

Last song.

Spiritualized?

Joshua Tree.

Bono.

Epic.

Adam Clayton.

Comes with new iPhone.

An anthem like U2 ain’t written for a bit.

This is Dublin territory.

Sexy God believers.

Cigarette.

Irish whiskey.

A Guinness.

Cloves.

The wraparounds.

Luna.

My heroes.

Sterling Morrison.

And Jack Nitzsche.

But Bono can sing opera.

A good dude.

Needs to drop the carbon bullshit.

Global warming is giant fucking hoax.

Just like COVID.

The Edge knows.

Grow some balls.

Stop kissing the Pope’s ass.

This commie Pope is a fucker.

Jesuit dipshit.

Epic lift.

Pauly can play guitar!

Fucking hell!!!

Album builds up to last song.

Even last song builds up.

Fucking brilliant.

Glitch.

iTunes.

Spotify.

-PD

zenith [2021)

Jesus and Mary Chain.

Black tar.

Caramelized sugar.

A dangerous confection.

Hit to Death in the Future Head.

Summer is here.

I hear.

Vacuum cleaner solo.

Theremin.

Race cars.

Boys peel out.

High-speed boats.

And again with the UPC scan.

Breaking up on reentry.

Serious audio fuckery.

And from this right into kung fu.  Peter Sellers on Bowie’s Low.  Trance.  But really what we have here is excellent counterpoint.  Lunatic Harness.  Polyrhythms.  Album breaks down soon.  Fast.  Abruptly.  Mental block regarding Wuhan origin.  Harmonic outline you would never find in China.  Terry Riley.  A Rainbow in Curved Air.  Eno.  Visconti.  And the others involved.  A beauty that inspired Philip Glass.  This is what we have.  Low and heroes.  Symphonies.  Glass.  Riley.  Minimalism.  Album called zenith.  Track two already hits “Nadir”.  What’s the arc here?  Arc-en-ciel?  Arkansas?  Immediately pensive.  Very unnerving.  Pop rock track.  Into existential oblivion.  Abrupt modulation.  Uncomfortable.  Eccentric.  Was there a thought process behind this?  Commerce ruins everything.  Imperfect masterpieces.  The rules of the game.  Radiohead.  Joseph Arthur?  Sparklehorse.  The Magnetic Fields.  Gay baritone.  Sad sack confessional poetry in the world of Berryman’s Dream Songs.  Brian Jonestown Massacre.  The Verve.  Strung out in heaven.  J. Spaceman shooting up while praying.  Don’t knock it…  Drug addiction is real.  Mental problems are real.  Here we are.  2020 fucked us up.  And now we wait for the next shoe to drop.  Smashing Pumpkins.  “Silver Fuck”?  Into Sonny Rollins?  Epstein.  Gene Ammons.  Hard to tell it’s (not) real.  Which parts?  Yes.  No.  Fooling the ear with Dave Fridmann.  A totally schizophrenic record so far.  Here we go!  “Belgian Lace, Pale Black Mascara…”  This is more like it.  Rollerskate Skinny.  Martin Rev.  Lots of counterpoint here.  Fux me up.  Disney xylophones.  Internal rhyme-sanity.  Dylan puking up brilliance.  Always Roger Waters with the bass.  Always The Wall.  Pompeii.  Hail to the Thief.  Again and again.  Trying to break new ground.  And it does.  Yerself is Steam.  Album starts to make sense after five tracks.  1 & 5.  This is not bullshit.  I don’t know about the jazz.  I don’t know about the monotonous instrumentals.  Absolutely “Car Wash Hair”.  Suzanne Thorpe would be proud.  Seems to be talking about tits.  A good ride.  Drum machine chugging away.  Can still have a good groove.  Wild Acoustic Chamber Orchestra.  W.A.C.O.  Woodwinds and glockenspiel.  Boces.  What the fuck is this shit?  O.K. computer.  Sounds like some QAnon stuff.  I feel Carlos Santana coming on.  This is what Assange jams out to.  Lots of plays at Fort Meade.  Salsa.  James Brown.  Puerto Rican funk.  As AOC goes to jail.  Serious national security issues for lyrics.  Fictional charges?  Tracers everywhere.  This theory involves an actual conspiracy.  Criminal conspiracy outlined.  By players.  Event 201.  Short circuit.  Johnny 5 is alive.  Legalistic funk.  QAnon wet dream.  FISAgate.  “Spy Gate”.  Somebody send this to Sean Hannity.  Obamagate.  Where is John Durham?  Ryan Dark White knows the truth about Rosenstein.  How many coup attempts by the Left?  Back to Billy Corgan.  Ok, so we have an Alex Jones connection.  Early-’90s goodness.  Butch Vig.  Dream pop.  James Iha.  Bet this guy knows the real story about the Standard Hotel(s).  Great lyrics!  Must be some inside jokes here.  But HOLY FUCK!  He nailed the “Holes” trumpet solo.  Deserter’s Songs.  God damn it.  How did they do this?  The liner notes say Pauly Deathwish has also produced all four of these albums.  Kind of a Jimmy Page thing going on.  Great drum sound.  Yo La Tengo.  “Mayonnaise”.  Siamese Dream.  Benjamin Britten reference?  Slick!  So this guy basically had a music education on par with Jack Nitzsche.  And then went for scumbag rockroll like Phil Spector.  Gotta respect this weird marriage.  This fascination with grunge.  Dinge.  And the facility to clean it up like a chandelier.  Very fucking impressive.  No record label.  Kinda sounds like no funding.  No budget.  The Delgados.  Hate.  The Great Eastern.  More Spiritualized telephony.  The Wall.  Which is to say, Bob Erzin.  And as dark as Berlin.  Which is to say, Bob Ezrin.  Neil Young vibe.  Tonight’s the Night.  Some dark-ass shit.  Nick Kent, where y@t?  IV Thieves.  Coulda done this.  What if Chris “Frenchie” Smith had produced this?  This kid like a protege.  I hear the moniker (stage name) was bestowed by Frenchie Smith.  Strings good.  Eastern European orchestra.  Must have cost a small fortune.  Arcade Fire.  French cinema.  Romantic-era harmony.  But pierced.  Sophisticated.  Absolutely Floyd.  “In The Flesh”.  Last track on Harvest.  Words between the lines.  The promise of the ’60s went to shit in the ’70s.  Where’s QAnon?  Where’s Nakasone?  Where’s CYBERCOM?  Keith Alexander on Amazon board.  Velvet Underground feeding back.  Les Rallizes Denudes.  Primal Scream.  “Swastika Eyes”.  ADAT.  DAT machine.  Sampling.  Stereolab.  Back to another standout track.  “Chaconne”.  Will Smith in the summertime.  Some slick shit.  Messiaen.  Jonny Greenwood.  Lyrics world-class.  All those sand paintings.  Write and destroy.  Suicide girls.  Thom Yorke’s brain doesn’t have this facility.  He’s a great stylist.  Definitely an homage.  And to Godard.  Snow white and psycho.  Heavy shit for Laetitia Sadier and Tim Gane to check out.  Not far from Faust IV.  So sweet.  John Paul Jones.  Ramble on.  Charlotte Gainsbourg.  Keren Ann.  Last track noisy as fuck.  Lo-fi.  Tom Waits.  Sticks together.  Some sad shit.  Music from Big Pink.  Mournful trombone(s).  John Simon.  “Bird on a Wire”.  They don’t make records like this anymore.  David Bowie not dead.  Great phrasing.  Sinatra.  Mark Linkous.  It’s a Wonderful Life.  Believable bass.  Upright citizen.  Bayou curious.  Noise floor drops out.  Some perverse humor here.  An “album”.  It is.  Ten songs.  Ten different directions.  Some tracks stick together.  Like a deck of cards shuffled.  Lots of variety.  Circus peanuts.  The orange ones.  Pure sugar.  Chewy.  Strange texture.  Lots of melancholy here.  What’s this bloke so sad about?  Tell Thurston Moore.  You gotta hear this shit.  Pauly Deathwish’s 4th album (this summer!).  Is this guy trying to set a Guinness record or something?  And he already has a 5th one out.  Christ!

-PD

MZFPK [2021)

Breakfast cereal video game.

Pauly Deathwish’s 3rd album.

I am behind.

I can’t keep up with this guy.

Out of the gates like Flaming Lips.

30,000 feel of despair.

The gash.

Right into Isao Tomita.

Doing Debussy.

Marching.

Martial.

Fantastic noises.

Like first Stereolab album.

Here Come the Warm Jets.

Cheyenne Mountain jams.

I can no longer see what I’m typing.

  • What if I type in white? ¬†Ahh, yes. ¬†That does the trick. ¬†But it ruins my style. ¬†Louis-Ferdinand would not be happy. ¬†Totally Air. ¬†Pocket Symphony. ¬†Who is Kevin? ¬†Shields? ¬†Ayers? ¬†Fairlight. ¬†Synth clouds. ¬†Rich chords. ¬†Very sophisticated harmonies and arrangements. ¬†Cornelius from Japan. ¬†This sounds very modern. ¬†OH FUCK! ¬†Groove is in the motherfucking heart. ¬†Vogue! ¬†So on track two, we are straight up on a catwalk. ¬†But it could be Alan Vega or Martin Rev. ¬†Kinda Sun City Girls. ¬†Zoviet France. ¬†Fridmann never gets this crazy with bass. ¬†Wayne is driving it weirder. ¬†This was, from what I hear, done with ZERO budget. ¬†Is this a dance album? ¬†First you have poetry. ¬†Then you are prose. ¬†Amateurs. ¬†Into¬†Odelay. ¬†That was a good drum break. ¬†The Strokes. ¬†Fuzzy vocals. ¬†Paliament/Funkadelic. ¬†Sly Stone! ¬†Later Stereolab. ¬†Tim Gane processing. ¬†Counter melody! ¬†For fuck’s sake. ¬†Somebody listen to this bloke. ¬†Whoa. ¬†What is up with this chorus? ¬†Roland Kirk? ¬†Like in Switzerland? ¬†Definitely hitting some Os Mutantes twee. ¬†Lo-fi as fuck. ¬†Great Godard tongue in cheek. ¬†Apparently about Neil Young and Rick James being in a band together when they were young and still in Canada. ¬†Yonge Street? ¬†Beats. ¬†Drake needs to hear this. ¬†Bit crusher lisp. ¬†Spiritualized at the grocery store. ¬†Swipe barcode. ¬†Song peaks at end. ¬†Masterful mix. ¬†A true climax. ¬†Savage mastering on every album. ¬†Whole mix jumps. ¬†It works. ¬†Needle skipping. ¬†American Supreme. ¬†Claustrophobic. ¬†COVID. ¬†Sad. ¬†Scared. ¬†Apocalyptic. ¬†The concept of the gaze in cinema. ¬†Bass drops in. ¬†Feel it in your sex organs. ¬†A sexy song. ¬†“Cobra Strike”. ¬†This is unequivocally a dance album. ¬†EDM all up in here. ¬†Lots of panning. ¬†Spliff it. ¬†Micro gestures. ¬†Pandemic planning. ¬†How long will it last? ¬†Soul-crushing. ¬†Zombie metaphor. ¬†Shaun of the Dead. ¬†Masterpiece. ¬†Beatle drums. ¬†First Velvets album. ¬†Rat trails. ¬†“Black Angel’s Death Song”. ¬†“The New Pollution”. ¬†Dr. No. ¬†Walther PPK. ¬†What does this kid know? ¬†He can’t possibly know, can he? ¬†Pure phase. ¬†Visconti. ¬†Lanois. ¬†Acid jazz. ¬†Nick Cave. ¬†Montage, mon beau souci. ¬†Flaming Lips. ¬†Jeff Tweedy drawl. ¬†Jesus and Mary Chain team up with The Cure. ¬†Disintegration. ¬†Heartbreak here. ¬†Who broke his heart? ¬†Bleeps and bloops. ¬†Robot noises. ¬†Heartbeeps. ¬†Jazz funk ’70s experimental upright. ¬†Great lyrics. ¬†Superimposition. ¬†Steenbeck! ¬†Fucking great lyrics on “Snip Snip”. ¬†Oh, damn. ¬†Glockenspiel at just the right time! ¬†Icy. ¬†Air. ¬†Virgin suicides. ¬†Dazed and confused. ¬†Blonde. ¬†Braids. ¬†Like glazed bread. ¬†German. ¬†Texas. ¬†Floating world. ¬†Old world. ¬†No one to smoke a doobie with and stare up at green trees. ¬†No tits. ¬†What is wrong with this world? ¬†Rambo. ¬†Fort Bragg. ¬†Delta. ¬†Boykin. ¬†Intelligence Support Activity. ¬†Send me. ¬†George Crumb. ¬†Black angels. ¬†Jungle echoes. ¬†4thPOG. ¬†Ghosts. ¬†PSYWAR op. ¬†Make it loud. ¬†Romeo foxtrot. ¬†Shall we dance? ¬†Charlie don’t surf. ¬†Death on the dance floor. ¬†Public Image Ltd. ¬†Modes of limited transposition. ¬†Messiaen. ¬†Primal Scream. ¬†Standing with Johnny Rotten. ¬†#Trump2021 . ¬†But this is more about big tits. ¬†Giant opals. ¬†Garth Hudson. ¬†Telegraph. ¬†Total loss. ¬†Persona non grata. ¬†Window still missing. ¬†Swastika eyes. ¬†Paul Weller. ¬†XTRMNTR. ¬†Shoot speed. ¬†Kill light. ¬†Eyes owned 2020. ¬†The ugly had a chance. ¬†Masks work…if you’re ugly and need to get laid. ¬†Back with another block rocking’ beat. ¬†Private psychedelic reel. ¬†War metaphor. ¬†Is this about election? ¬†No. ¬†Too early. ¬†Look at liner notes. ¬†Living in COVID times was like a world war. ¬†War just beginning? ¬†Got my pina colada. ¬†Fuck it! ¬†Arizona. ¬†Living boldly. ¬†Masks have lost. ¬†Two weeks. ¬†Could have been a contender. ¬†Circuit bending. ¬†Talking about big titty schizophrenic. ¬†All footwork ruined. ¬†Toys. ¬†Falling apart gremlin workmanship. ¬†Awkward line about Thora Birch. ¬†Explicit warnings a little lazy. ¬†Getting a bit Lenny Bruce up in here. ¬†Russ Meyer. ¬†Second line. ¬†Double time. ¬†Crazy drums. ¬†Smooth as Sade. ¬†Tambourine is the star. ¬† One organic element. ¬†Wrote a song. ¬†She didn’t care. ¬†Wrote her 200 songs. ¬†She didn’t care. ¬†One has zero plays globally. ¬†She never bothered listening to it. ¬†Some things not meant to be. ¬†Liberals and conservatives. ¬†Go and create. ¬†Lobster. ¬†Work wasn’t. ¬†Bought her every flower imaginable. ¬†Thousands of dollars on flowers. ¬†Yoshimi laser warfare. ¬†A piano not standard. ¬†Some Tori Amos bullshit. ¬†Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli. ¬†Only the finest pianos. ¬†Internationally famous. ¬†Neither deserve it. ¬†Pulled the plug at the wrong time. ¬†Would he have still kept the same track listing? ¬†Maybe so. ¬†Heartbreak to rehash. ¬†Goes by quick. ¬†Good drum programming. ¬†James Bond future theme. ¬†Brian Wilson. ¬†Phil Spector. ¬†Absolute Nigel Godrich. ¬†Cinematic. ¬†The album that never was. ¬†But this one is worldwide, motherfuckers. ¬†Third this summer. ¬†And a fourth already out. ¬†I can hardly keep up. ¬†I need to review movies. ¬†Doesn’t Pauly Deathwish know I don’t have time for Galaga? ¬†Falling apart. ¬†Short-circuit. ¬†Charlotte Gainsbourg. ¬†Flashback to Bucolic. ¬†
  • -PD

Tropic Thunder [2008)

Jim Marrs fought the good fight.

Straight out of The Party.

And later Being There.

Full retard.

Ritardando.

Waiting with bated breath.

After just five days.

Seven days in May.

I didn’t recognize Tom Cruise.

Impressive invective.

What is it with these Scientologists?

Why they gotta be such good fuckin’ actors?

Travolta.

And musicians.

Beck.

Never mind.

Fuck ’em!

A bunch of nut jobs!!

‘Bout to rub tiger balm on this bitch.

Coogan spontaneously combusts.

But he had the right idea.

Strait out of Spies Like Us.

Strait out of The Three Amigos.

Massive influence of John Landis on Edgar Wright.

But here, Ben Stiller.

Straight out of Blair Witch.

Homage-o-meter.

Like Pavement.

I can relate.

Restecp.

Dgfffcf.

Real bullets.

One round.

Rock and road.

Full metal jacket.

Guarding the poppy fields in Afghanistan.

Pat Tillman.

Now comes the pain.

Why were McConnell and McCain in Burma?

ASSK.

toBurma.

https://wikileaks.org/clinton-emails/emailid/23471

First Secretary of State to visit Myanmar in 50 years.

Big feather in her cap.

She came, she saw, he died.

Her foreign policy achievements.

Think the CIA isn’t capable of stoking race riots?

Princess Diana.

Is this real world or exercise?

NEADS.

NORAD.

USSF.

Child soldiers.

Borat with video record.

VHS.

No more LARPing.

Thoughtful Americans can no longer have any confidence in the U.S. voting system…unless they are Democrats.

Which may be mutually exclusive to “thoughtful”.

Regardless, the machines are rigged for Democrats.

Democrats never get in trouble.

Especially the big ones like Hillary.

But also the ones like Ruby Freeman (who get $100 to stuff the ballot box).

Just as busted as Derek Chauvin.

Ruby Freeman with her knee on the neck of our vote.

And Shaye Moss.

Asphyxiating democracy at the State Farm Arena in the early morning hours of November 4, 2020.

And Ralph Jones Sr.

And an as-yet-to-be-identified fourth suspect.

Suspected of committing massive ballot fraud.

The whole country has seen it.

But Ruby Freeman walks free (apparently).

No consequences.

Because she’s a Democrat.

And it would be racist to not let a black woman cheat.

Maybe there was no Q.

Or maybe Q is about to unleash hell.

Don’t ask me.

I don’t know.

Consigned to play the role of Simple Jack for eternity.

Colonel Kurtz, I presume.

Loyalty.

Are there shifts?

I love America.

But my vote no longer counts in America.

Because of Ruby Freeman and (even more so) Dominion Voting Systems.

But also Hart InterCivic.

By way of the SolarWinds hack.

[Austin]

And even ES&S.

Why was Smartmatic interested in Burma’s vote in 2015?

Twitter.

IMG_7614

You think we are weak and defeated.

QAnon was merely boot camp for digital soldiers.

Willing to die.

How die?

Rounded up by Biden’s death squads.

How die?

Targeted by Antifa.

How die?

Imprisoned on trumped up charges.

Better to burn out than to fade away.

Rust never sleeps.

Never stops oxidizing.

We know you, but do you know us?

We took down the Soviet Union with rock and roll.

Who are we?

We scoured Zbig’s big tell.

We will win the culture war.

You squash us, but we are Levi’s jeans in Gorky Park.

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

You have to have balls.

To be a rock and roller.

Fuck it.

Let it roll.

Heads.

Call it in the air.

Tumbling into the basket.

Fish and loaves.

By the power of Jesus Christ.

We rebuke you.

Satan.

Q-uantico.

Larry Silverstein.

What a disgusting prick.

Human slime.

Warren Buffett too.

NetJets in Flight 93 neighborhood.

Nearest bird.

Golf tournament.

At Offutt AFB?

Lloyd Austin giving Donald Rumsfeld a run for his money.

As most pathetic, treasonous SecDef in U.S. history.

Forrestal is rolling in his grave while quoting Ajax.

Frank Olson has never been avenged.

What does Fort Detrick make of COVID-19?

Asymmetric?

Certainly unrestricted.

Warfare.

False-flag STAND DOWN.

Fake woke.

Lloyd Austin.

Traitor.

Trained actors.

Trained musicians.

Trained artists.

Information warfare.

Strategic intelligence.

CIA is Wall Street.

Hit ’em where it hurts.

GameStop.

Game continue.

The kabuki of war.

Willing to die.

Because I love George Washington.

And I love “one person, one vote”.

Because I am not a slave.

King Gary.

Gay.

Something in the Civil War.

Fog.

Bridge wired.

Stabbed by Mini Me.

War is hell.

All is fair.

I cannot accept a fake president.

How am I to participate in democracy if my vote no longer counts?

I lack “standing”.

My state lacks “standing”.

And all Democrats (and most Republicans) have also passed the buck.

Shirked their duties.

There is no justice at the Department of Justice.

But I still believe in the FBI.

I don’t believe in Comey.

I don’t believe in McCabe.

I don’t believe in Strzok (or his wife who just got a cherry position at the SEC).

I don’t believe in Lisa Page.

Clinesmith handling is a blatant double standard.

I still believe in the military.

I believe in law enforcement.

I shall remain peaceful.

I ask for the help of the military.

I ask for the help of law enforcement.

Make us proud.

Go out on the same limbs we do.

I have nothing in this life.

I am a “racist” just because I voted for Trump.

I need to be “deprogrammed”.

I need to be “re-educated”.

I will fight till my last day.

The word is mightier than the sword.

-PD