The owls have been talkin' to me. But I'm sworn to secrecy. I woke up in a burned out basement.
Sleepin' with metal hands in a spirit ditch. It's the fourth of July in the Year of the Replicant. I've been listening to raw punk demos from Age of Desire along with my 1950s Punk & Rockabilly 4-disc set Rockin' Bones from Rhino. A ton of killer rockin' tunes from this fresh era of repressed individuals reacting the best way they know how to, by rocking in sheer defiance of their straitlaced times. Ronnie Dawson, Billy Eldridge, Gene Vincent, Larry Dowd, Sonny Fisher, Roy Orbison, Elvis Presley, Jesse James, Gene Summers, Johnny Burnette, Peanuts Wilson, Kip Tyler, Tom Tall, Carl Perkins, Buddy Holly, Wanda Jackson, John & Jackie, the list goes on and on.
My friend Vinnie back east has this killer underground band going by AD (for Age of Desire) in the cryptic realm of script, where we meet more than halfway here when you come to think about it enough. He sent me three demos they'd just recorded and they sound great, just straight up jamming on the spot no hold barred like it ought to be.
Same thing could be said for Old Fezziwig, another underground staple in Philly and its splatterpunked surrounds. Right now I'm kicking it to Sparklehorse's debut album Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot. Hammering the cramps, oh yeah. Great music for a self reflective suicide tinged 4th of July. You are the most beautiful widow in town.
As the sun burned down the west, there's one thing we still got, there's one last dance in this parking lot, oh yeah I gotta heart of darkness. When she woke up in to a fire and the flames kept dancin' higher, Satan would laugh at his screams, then she woke up from her dreams, oh yeah I, I got a heart of darkness. ~ Mark Linkous RIP
Keep dreaming on as we all unwind along this road together. Forget about what we're going to do someday and just do it now. No dream we can imagine lies beyond the reach of our finger tips. That's just the nature of the whole beast, the entire trip and caboodle. We're all caught up in an evolving paradigm shifting from one interlaced combination of elements to the next. We've been here the whole time now we're just waiting for the next refrain to rhyme. When it jumps off course we tend to ignore we were listening to a song and get it wrong. All these twisted circumstances are just the rollicking sound track to our lives.
Take the very stars out there beyond the sky for example. They're analogous to the shadow of an extension of an idea, the idea being ourselves, of course. We can't normally see it that way of course because our natural born inclination toward split mind objectification gets in the way from our hearing the subtle beauty of the forest growing around us for the trees. In this interlaced network of living post-protoplasmic biology enraptured by the mycelium fortified kingdom of plants we dare to stand apart from each other while dreaming together our lives on this insulated planet suspended in outer space.
Whatever you think about what's going on around you today in this extremely twisted Year of the Replicant, try not to get all too caught up in very slowly wound-up silky strands of the world wide web pulling you into its comfy cocoon. You can see where this is leading, I hope. Of course the arachnid in question must be the AI we've dwelled upon long enough to fear.
Arachnid Interface
That's what 'AI' really stands for. Arachnid being a good euphemism for what it really is. Something to strike fear into the heart of all human beings. So the real question becomes once again, "which pill will you take? The clear one--which will render you comfortably numb enough to avoid knowing the horrific truth--or the one as black as ink--which will lead you to think down the ever reducible pathway of logic, knowledge, and ultimate wisdom? You must choose, but choose wisely. Declare your independence from others and think for yourself. This has been a random, impromptu entry in my Crossover Vinyl blog for July 4th.
