Cinematic Music with Pauly Deathwish
Season 1 Episode 4
Cinematic Music with Pauly Deathwish
Season 1 Episode 4
Recommended if you like The Who, The Killers, and …and you will know us by the Trail of Dead.
“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (closing music)”–Jack Nitzsche
“I’m Not in Love”–10cc
“Armenia City in the Sky”–The Who
“I Can See it (But I Can’t Feel It)”–my bloody valentine
“Trouble of the World”–Mahalia Jackson
“The Drugs Don’t Work”–The Verve
“In Germany Before the War”–Randy Newman
“The Kids”–Lou Reed
“Source Tags & Codes”–…and you will know us by the Trail of Dead
We are finally catching up with Pauly Deathwish.
Here on his sixth album, drugs.
Good psychedelic surf start.
The romance must have seemed possible.
A great opening track.
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.
After the party.
The party at the end of the world.
Certainly song lyrics reminiscent of Wayne Coyne.
Yummy Yummy Yummy.
Maybe the romance has faded.
Even Dire Straits.
Walk of life.
Track 2 with acrobatic chord changes.
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.
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.
But this dude is all about ‘merica.
And i got no problem with it.
Constitution of the USA.
“memes at the ready”.
Information warfare taken into the realm of head music.
This guy is a danger…to the lame liberal establishment.
THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS RELEASED 7 ALBUMS THIS SUMMER!!!!!!!
Martin Rev dipping Copenhagen.
“Latinas for Trump”.
Track 3 is a trucker song.
Set in Switzerland.
With production like Nigel Godrich.
It’s a long track.
Drum machine and acoustic guitar.
And funky clavinet.
Haven’t heard this since Jerry Lee.
But this is the kinda shit cognizant about There’s a Riot Goin’ On.
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.
Except Cortina d’Ampezzo.
NEU! meets Gram Parsons.
Who is/was this “Swiss Alps Truck-Driving Gal”?
Like French band Air.
Dancy filler track of highest quality.
Mike Lindell needs to hear this shit.
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.
And WHAT THE FUCK?!?
Like late-period Dylan.
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.
But with that San Antonio twist.
Pauly Deathwish from the Alamo city.
Is Trump still the President? 😉
When was this written?
Why that move to Bedminster?
A unifying song.
Ask Abraham Lincoln about “Dixie”.
Masked and anonymous.
QAnon line as money shot.
It don’t matter.
This record rocks the Walmart parking lot.
Richard Manuel tickling the ivories.
Band brown album.
Side two for all you vinyl lovers.
“Let’s Get Creative”.
Really special production.
Which just goes to show that anything can be done with an iPhone.
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.
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.
Edgar Wright needs to hear this shit.
Thurston Moore needs to hear this shit.
Watch the water.
Rollerskate Skinny appreciation society.
First Stereolab album.
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.
One if by…two…
First Eno record.
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.
Obviously, Pauly Deathwish loves the instrumentals from Bowie’s Low.
This is a constant touchstone.
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?
Hell to pay.
Criminal networks wiped off the face of the earth.
LeBron James is a worthless cocksucker.
I think I would get along with this Pauly Deathwish guy.
We have it all…in Utah.
“Bluffdale” like Marquee Moon.
Super Marquee Moon.
Even a bit of John Bonham.
Good drum sound.
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.
Hal Blaine back in the barn stoned on some world-class shit.
Ending album on serious note?
“Cotton Ball Soup”.
Will the masses win?
Against the vaccine passport bastards?
No heroes can be found.
Where’s Thom Yorke?
That glow in The World’s End.
But a sadness.
My Bloody Valentine.
Sloshy grunge hats.
I Am the Cosmos.
Yerself Is Steam.
The disappearance of Madeleine McCann.
You don’t know how it feels.
I can only give you everything.
Black magic warded off by honesty.
Serge on the way.
Lenny Bruce, even.
Hit to Death in the Future Head.
Wait at least until track three to break it down.
Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.
The confusion of ridiculous counterpoint.
Tonal, yet dissonant.
Thick Billy Corgan.
Definitely a sadness here.
All you need is hate.
The Inflated Tear.
Columbus, Ohio with duct tape.
Posing with a bass clarinet.
Did I ever write one?
Yes, I did.
Or is it contrabassoon?
Nadia Boulanger can tell you.
My teacher’s teacher (twice over).
The Left Banke.
Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements.
A little lo-fi.
Changes that pull at your heartstrings.
A fucking marimba solo?!?
Are you kidding me???
Pauly Deathwish collaboration with Gordon Gano of Violent Femmes.
Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Gordon knew him as Death.
I have become death.
Tim Gane tone.
Back to J. Spaceman.
Dirty ass rock and roll with pristine horns.
Is this the artist we’ve been waiting for?
R. Stevie Moore?
Sounds like Jack Nitzsche.
Major Velvet vibes.
Dylan with P-bass.
Too much attitude.
Let it Come Down.
Fucker kicked the bucket.
First to be vaxxed.
First Suicide album.
The Soft Bulletin.
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.
Gimme some lovin’?
La Monte Young.
First rehearsal tapes.
New York City heroin.
Warhol Factory torn down.
Across from YMCA.
Great throwaway lyrics.
Sound of universe.
Direct into mixing console.
Blood pressure rising.
I think I’m in love.
Will the circle remain unbroken?
When I had dinner with Roky.
First Velvets album.
But you gotta buy it.
Cop shoot cop.
On the jukebox.
Eat at the gas station.
First time in Texas.
It’s definitely Bowie.
Old is new again.
A fuck ton of flutes.
Flute loops literally.
Little fluffy clouds.
Gay glam chorus.
Boys peel out.
Gives me pants.
A Shot in the Dark.
Under the Western Freeway.
With Sean Mackowiak.
Comes back loud.
One song mastered soft.
The main influence of Pauly Deathwish’s debut album.
Chariots of fire.
Such a groove.
By the side of a freeway.
Under an underpass.
Not like RHCP.
How did a Trump supporter make this album?!?
I thought all Trump supporters were redneck morons???
This is way fucking better than Ariel Pink’s dabblings.
This sounds like a debut album.
Songs saved up.
Like The Strokes.
Cinematic as fuck.
Trail of Dead.
Because Pauly wrote the string arrangement on IX.
Snot on the crowd.
Lost Bayou Ramblers lost sessions.
This was all made on an iPhone?!?
Major 7ths in uppermost range of piano.
Almost indistinguishable from octaves.
Only for the sensuous ear.
Waters delayed bass.
No nonsense drums.
Humble Pie reference?!?
Predating new Bob Dylan album.
Check SoundCloud timestamp.
This is definitely the QAnon anthem.
This hook should be on a million conspiracy videos.
“10 Days of Darkness”.
Tell ’em Large Marge sent ya!
My end is my beginning is my end.
Great debut album (if I do say so myself).
Symptomatic of the times. Now. Then.
Read the news and it’s just about enough to depress you. If you’re not already cynical.
But here comes a boy and a little girl…trying to change the whole wide world.
If you find this film, it likely won’t be under its original title Sweet Toronto.
My copy says John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band: Live in Toronto.
Which shows you how much Shout! Factory thought of the director D.A. Pennebaker.
The changed the title of his fuckin’ film!
Sure, they tacked on a poignant interview with Yoko to the front end, but other than that it seems unchanged.
Reminds us of another director who got shafted making a music documentary: Jean-Luc Godard.
What is most widely available today as Sympathy for the Devil was originally to be called One Plus One.
The producers tacked on the title song to the end of the film (playing over largely inconsequential footage…at least initially) and retitled the sucker.
Godard allegedly punched the producer in the face after the premier…but I digress.
Why should you watch this film under consideration?
There’s a couple good reasons.
The first is Bo Diddley. Sure, it’s only one song, but it sets the stage (literally) for what follows.
Pennebaker uses Diddley’s music to usher in the motorcade of John Lennon and entourage.
And when we really get to watch Bo, he’s dancin’ and jivin’ and (by the way) doing a nice job of not stepping on his guitar cable.
It’s a long, jammy, droned-out piece: “Bo Diddley.” That’s right, the song is titled “Bo Diddley” by (who else?) Bo Diddley.
If you close your eyes you just might think you’re listening to The Velvet Underground. That won’t be the last time in the night for which those words are applicable.
Pennebaker keeps the train a’ rollin’ with a complete change of pace: Jerry Lee Lewis.
Again, it’s only one song, but the director builds the excitement of anticipation for the headliner.
Lewis…smoking his cigar…gold rings and jewelry on that pumpin’ right hand…up high on the piano…and occasionally a brown patent-leather ankle book (Beatle boot?) makes it’s way up to the top register to heel a little tone cluster of exclamation.
At this point, Shout! Factory (perhaps at the behest of Chuck Berry?) makes a decision to cut Chuck’s song.
And so we roll into Little Richard. Again, we can imagine…Prince, Michael Jackson…we are seeing the entire history of rock and roll compressed into 70 (?) minutes…from Jerry Lee singing a song made most famous by Elvis all the way to the headliner who will take us to far out, groovy places which may or may not still exist.
Little Richard has the most cracker-jack band. A couple of sax players…really tight.
And so after three fantastic performers in a row–three originators of rock and roll, we get the rag-tag Plastic Ono Band.
John starts ’em off nice and slow…reverent…”Blue Suede Shoes,” “Money (That’s What I Want),” and “Dizzy, Miss Lizzy” before the curve ball of “Yer Blues”…
So lonely…wanna die…ain’t dead already…know reason why.
Klaus Voormann hits a steaming helping of wrong notes throughout the early part of the set as bass player, but that’s why we love him, right? Reminds me of those bum notes which they left in (didn’t edit out) on John’s first solo album titled (what else?) Plastic Ono Band. But we also love Klaus because he drew the cover to The Beatles Revolver album.
But what Klaus lacks in precision is made up for by Eric Clapton on lead guitar. Clapton with his beard…denim jacket…a generally pensive look on his face the whole time which seems to read, “What the fuck am I doing here? Can’t believe I’m doing this.” Clapton never glares at Ono (at least not in the shots we receive through the miracle of montage), but one can’t help thinking that a musician of Eric’s caliber might have been perplexed (to say the least) regarding Yoko’s musical contributions to the night’s proceedings.
[Alan White is, of course, great on drums.]
And so we slink into “Cold Turkey”…premiered this very night in 1969. The rendition is like Booker T. & the MGs…very cool and groovy…laid back.
But most of all…about this film…John Lennon in a white suit…huge beard…long hair…little circular glasses. His presence…
Remember, this concert was about four months after the Montreal bed-in.
And so the band launch into “Give Peace a Chance.”
And it’s still the most revolutionary statement possible.
Musicians are the only ones who have ever done anything worthwhile…
Truth be told, the rendition of “Give Peace a Chance” is a little lackluster.
“And now Yoko’s going to do her thing all over you”
With those words (or something close to that effect), John takes us into the final act of this opera.
And it is powerful.
Yes, these grungy musicians actually succeed in making time stop.
Yoko wails like a woman on the sea lamenting her lost child.
For all the naysayers, Ono actually did have a good sense of pitch. It’s just that pitch (as the Western ear defines it…narrowly) is not her predominant concern (apparently).
It’s like the Damo Suzuki years of the German band Can…including their two Krautrock masterpieces Tago Mago and Ege Bamyasi. The same criticism that Ono gets for her far-out howling is rarely leveled at Suzuki. Listeners of Can know that they are getting into an experimental vehicle when they plop a Can album on the turntable.
This, arguably, makes Ono even more revolutionary. To go from “Blue Suede Shoes” to “John, John (Let’s Hope for Peace)” is truly high art. The conceptual mind-fuck is equal to anything John or Alice Coltrane ever pulled-off.
And so it is that the night ends on a most bizarre note…a drone…three instruments perched against amplifiers feeding back…as if one is watching…and you will know us by the Trail of Dead.
You’ve gotta see it. Either it speaks to you or it doesn’t. For me, there are few more poignant ways to remember the radical genius that was John Lennon than watching a document like this.
Residence: San Antonio, TX
Former occupation: musician
Education: BM music theory/composition, MBA management
Dream: direct films
Life soundtrack: Mercury Rev, Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, The Delgados, Suicide, The Band, The Velvet Underground, Amon Düül II, The Homosexuals, Primal Scream, Teenage Fanclub, Rollerskate Skinny, Silver Apples, Kevin Ayers, My Bloody Valentine, Spiritualized, Stereolab, …and you will know us by the Trail of Dead, Hawkwind, The Magic Numbers, Comus, Magma, Roland Kirk, Grinderman/Nick Cave, Teenage Filmstars, The Flaming Lips, Les Rallizes Dénudés, Oasis, The Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Jandek, Kanye West, Syd Barrett, 13th Floor Elevators, Skip Spence…
Favorite author: Nick Tosches
Favorite musician: Bob Dylan
Favorite director/intellectual hero: