He may not have been converted yet, but he's singing the gospel of divorce. Builds to savage side two. Don't cross this man. A howl.
maandag 28 september 2015
Capsule review: Bob Dylan - Hard rain (1976)
He may not have been converted yet, but he's singing the gospel of divorce. Builds to savage side two. Don't cross this man. A howl.
zondag 27 september 2015
Capsule review: Captain beefheart - Bat chain puller (1976, 2012 released)
With five tracks re-recorded for Shiny Beast, three for Doc at the Radar Station and two for Ice Cream for Crow, this doesn't have the impact it would have if released as intended. More like a nice and bluesy rehearsal for the real thing. The manic energy of the re-recordings (and their respective albums) is noticeably toned down. But that just means it has its own mood. Good to have it out in the public domain, or at least upon payment of a hefty contribution to the Zappa estate.
Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks: 37/38 - 2003
37
2003/03/31 Barcelona & 2003/04/13 Brussels
2 early versions of 'It kills'
Two more 'in progress' versions of 'It kills'.
'It kills' is a difficult song for everyone involved: the band, Stephen himself, they're just starting to get a handle on it. It's a difficult song for the audience too.
Just a quick digression: I don't think all of Stephen's songs have lyrics that are primarily meaningful. Some of them are just wordplay, or chaotic poetry (which I love), or howls (I like what Stephen once said about 'Wowee zowee' – that one of its defining characteristics is that a lot of the songs have vocals but not really lyrics as such). It's just that music critics (them again) seem to have decided that's all he does, and he's never written a song with a meaningful lyric. So you get this one-sided view that's repeated in reviews ad nauseam – the king of puns and weird rhymes. And Stephen doesn't talk about that stuff at all in his interviews. It's a little weird to write down my interpretation of songs that I think have coherent and meaningful lyrics with well-thought out arguments. It feels like engaging in flights of imagination, like I'm making it up, desperately reading something between the lines. But I think they're wrong, I'm not making it up, I'm just reading some very straightforward lyrics and engaging with them. And I think Stephen puts time and effort into those lyrics to get them to say exactly what he means.
'It kills' is a heavy song, in its finished form. It talks about growth, growing as a human being, and about the pain of growth, casting off ancient layers of skin, leaving behind the person you were to enter a new phase. It talkes about the difficulty, about hesitation and uncertainty.
In the Barcelona version Stephen's tackling the eventual theme in some half-finished lyrics ('What you gonna do?... Where you gonna go?' is in place, as is the word 'kill' in the chorus – 'she kills', 'they kill'). But in this early draft it talks more about societal exploitation (2nd verse) and I think, about the love/death interface (1st verse – 'she kills').
The Brussels version has dummy lyrics again (strange as it seems) about 'Frank Lloyd Wright' and a girl with 'false hair' and a chorus of 'my little sister knows her ABC'.
Musically they're straightening it out. Interestingly enough, the one part where I feel the studio version falters is the bridge (both lyrically and arrangement). On these early versions (especially Barcelona) Mike plays some very low piano notes, which suggest another direction for the bridge, that's the way I think it should have gone.
38
2003/04/13, Brussels
Old Jerry
By now you know how much I dig this tune – but I'm about to jump into wild psychological conjecture to convince you this is one of the most important songs in Stephen's book.
Side-note: I told you of my 2001 Jicks concert trauma. If not for that, I would 've probably been at this Brussels concert. I only know one other song they played, but just the thought that they played 'Old Jerry' so wonderfully and so near my home... and I decided not to see 'em again! It's enough to reduce a buddhist lumberjact to tears (so you can imagine what it does to me!).
Skip back to note 27 for my general impressions of this song. I mention unfullfilled longing, open-ended desire, the kind of subconscious emotional reflexes a lot of Pavement songs are build on. It's an adolescent feeling, when you're looking for a place in the world.
How much songs from 'Face the truth' onward emit that emotion? I don't know any.
I mean, let's not dwell too much on biography (I ain't A.J. Weberman), but Stephen was settling down, taking on the responsibilities of adulthood and family. Found a place in the world. As people do.
And the tone of his meaningful lyrics reflects that change. There's a whole new discourse on 'Face the truth' and beyond (a great one, which has given me as much guidance and recognition as the Pavement songs).
So, it's the end of an era.
Actually, he plays it like the era's already passed. I may not have gotten it if I'd been there in the audience. The song's taken at a brisk pace, moving along breezily almost, not dwelling on the lost feeling, almost valedictorian.
It took me a few listens but then I got it, he plays it like he's remembering the feeling, rather than feeling the feeling.
That's what I think, anyway. Every time he played the song during the 2003 concerts he got closer to that final farewell. And just wait till we get to the final and definitive version.
2003/03/31 Barcelona & 2003/04/13 Brussels
2 early versions of 'It kills'
Two more 'in progress' versions of 'It kills'.
'It kills' is a difficult song for everyone involved: the band, Stephen himself, they're just starting to get a handle on it. It's a difficult song for the audience too.
Just a quick digression: I don't think all of Stephen's songs have lyrics that are primarily meaningful. Some of them are just wordplay, or chaotic poetry (which I love), or howls (I like what Stephen once said about 'Wowee zowee' – that one of its defining characteristics is that a lot of the songs have vocals but not really lyrics as such). It's just that music critics (them again) seem to have decided that's all he does, and he's never written a song with a meaningful lyric. So you get this one-sided view that's repeated in reviews ad nauseam – the king of puns and weird rhymes. And Stephen doesn't talk about that stuff at all in his interviews. It's a little weird to write down my interpretation of songs that I think have coherent and meaningful lyrics with well-thought out arguments. It feels like engaging in flights of imagination, like I'm making it up, desperately reading something between the lines. But I think they're wrong, I'm not making it up, I'm just reading some very straightforward lyrics and engaging with them. And I think Stephen puts time and effort into those lyrics to get them to say exactly what he means.
'It kills' is a heavy song, in its finished form. It talks about growth, growing as a human being, and about the pain of growth, casting off ancient layers of skin, leaving behind the person you were to enter a new phase. It talkes about the difficulty, about hesitation and uncertainty.
In the Barcelona version Stephen's tackling the eventual theme in some half-finished lyrics ('What you gonna do?... Where you gonna go?' is in place, as is the word 'kill' in the chorus – 'she kills', 'they kill'). But in this early draft it talks more about societal exploitation (2nd verse) and I think, about the love/death interface (1st verse – 'she kills').
The Brussels version has dummy lyrics again (strange as it seems) about 'Frank Lloyd Wright' and a girl with 'false hair' and a chorus of 'my little sister knows her ABC'.
Musically they're straightening it out. Interestingly enough, the one part where I feel the studio version falters is the bridge (both lyrically and arrangement). On these early versions (especially Barcelona) Mike plays some very low piano notes, which suggest another direction for the bridge, that's the way I think it should have gone.
38
2003/04/13, Brussels
Old Jerry
By now you know how much I dig this tune – but I'm about to jump into wild psychological conjecture to convince you this is one of the most important songs in Stephen's book.
Side-note: I told you of my 2001 Jicks concert trauma. If not for that, I would 've probably been at this Brussels concert. I only know one other song they played, but just the thought that they played 'Old Jerry' so wonderfully and so near my home... and I decided not to see 'em again! It's enough to reduce a buddhist lumberjact to tears (so you can imagine what it does to me!).
Skip back to note 27 for my general impressions of this song. I mention unfullfilled longing, open-ended desire, the kind of subconscious emotional reflexes a lot of Pavement songs are build on. It's an adolescent feeling, when you're looking for a place in the world.
How much songs from 'Face the truth' onward emit that emotion? I don't know any.
I mean, let's not dwell too much on biography (I ain't A.J. Weberman), but Stephen was settling down, taking on the responsibilities of adulthood and family. Found a place in the world. As people do.
And the tone of his meaningful lyrics reflects that change. There's a whole new discourse on 'Face the truth' and beyond (a great one, which has given me as much guidance and recognition as the Pavement songs).
So, it's the end of an era.
Actually, he plays it like the era's already passed. I may not have gotten it if I'd been there in the audience. The song's taken at a brisk pace, moving along breezily almost, not dwelling on the lost feeling, almost valedictorian.
It took me a few listens but then I got it, he plays it like he's remembering the feeling, rather than feeling the feeling.
That's what I think, anyway. Every time he played the song during the 2003 concerts he got closer to that final farewell. And just wait till we get to the final and definitive version.
Capsule review: Abba - Arrival (1976)
Of course Arrival is a bubble of unreal sugarcoated fantasy. It's a record that has me believing I can dance, I can jive. It's my bubble and I'll cry if I want to ('My love, my life'). That too.
Capsule review: Kate Wolf & the Wildwood Flower - Back roads (1976)
Any record with a songtitle 'Sitting on the porch' and another 'Riding in the country' is bound to be downhome and probably flawed. So it is here. But the downhome is convincing and the best of these unartful songs, sung in Wolf's unartful timbre, hit right in the heart. I count at least five. Consider the flaws forgiven.
Capsule review: Bob Seger & the Silver bullet band - Night moves (1976)
It's amazing how deeply I can enjoy the obvious Bruce Springsteen tropes, as long as they're played by anyone other than Bruce Springsteen. Seger sings 'Rock and roll never forgets' and he believes it. On the next song he opens up a can of Van Morrison, and he believes that too. No bandana'd guitarist or saxophone 'Big Man' to detract. '70s earthy American rock so classic it's almost brainless.
Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks: 35/36 - 2003
35
2003/03/21, Crystal ballroom, Portland, OR
Sin taxi / Ramp of death / Phantasies
Another chance to hear the 2003 version of 'Sin taxi' with added 'Ramp of death' and 'Phantasies'.
Solid versions of all these tracks, definitely on the level I've come to expect of the Jicks in 2003. Pretty damn good.
I can't report anything exceptional or noteworthy per se about these performances. I'm just happy there's a 2nd performance of 2003's 'Sin taxi' to compare (this one's a little less full on rock, but the arrangements is pretty much the same). And you know, if I could get into that time machine to a musical event of my choosing... I'd probably see the NRBQ with Steve Ferguson in 1970 or Prince around 'Dirty mind', but 2003 Jicks would be pretty high on my list. I'd get some action out of that time machine.
2003/03/21, Crystal ballroom, Portland, OR
Sin taxi / Ramp of death / Phantasies
Another chance to hear the 2003 version of 'Sin taxi' with added 'Ramp of death' and 'Phantasies'.
Solid versions of all these tracks, definitely on the level I've come to expect of the Jicks in 2003. Pretty damn good.
I can't report anything exceptional or noteworthy per se about these performances. I'm just happy there's a 2nd performance of 2003's 'Sin taxi' to compare (this one's a little less full on rock, but the arrangements is pretty much the same). And you know, if I could get into that time machine to a musical event of my choosing... I'd probably see the NRBQ with Steve Ferguson in 1970 or Prince around 'Dirty mind', but 2003 Jicks would be pretty high on my list. I'd get some action out of that time machine.
After 'Ramp of death', Stephen makes a crack about John Mayer-syndrome, white guys with acoustic guitars. Oh Steve, sometimes you just don't know your own strengths.
2003/03/21, Crystal ballroom, Portland
Old Jerry
There are 6 known recorded versions of 'Old Jerry'. We've encountered an early version played during the april 2002 South American tour (note 27) and the studio version (note 31). The other 4 versions are all live takes from the 2003 Pig Lib tours. He would burn through all of the song's potential in 2003, reaching ever more intense peaks (you'll see). And indeed, after 2003 it seems the songs was put in storage indefinitely. I've heard rumours of a 2014 freak sighting, but no recording or confirmation.
Here, from the start of the tour, a beautiful subdued version, leaning heavily on the electric piano and with some elegiac guitar skronk additions. An early morning version, with a feeling almost like innocence.
36
2003/04/07, unknown location
Rattled by the rush (instr)
Soundcheck jam
Summer babe
In between days
Unreleasable, unique little moments I always listen to with a smile on my face, however unformed they may be. The first three tracks are from the soundcheck (don't know where this show is taking place), and offer a view 'behind the scenes' (so to speak – I suppose we don't have to expect a Jicks reality show anytime soon, thank God). Turns out when no one's listening they like to riff on old Pavement songs too!
The 'Rattled by the rush' instrumental is just a tantalizing fragment. They spend about half of its 40 seconds negotiating whether they're playing the verse or the chorus. The bass just doesn't find the right notes. And yet, it's delicious. Maybe it's just the Proustian rush of it.
'Soundcheck jam' – for some of us two words that will always gladden our hearts! There aren't many recordings of the Jicks just jamming, and that's a shame. This rare instance shows them pretty good at getting a mood down right away. Starts with a bassline, John is on it with a simple beat immediately, Stephen plays some atmospheric guitar flourishes and mumbles some half-vocals (but really right for the feeling of the moment) and halfway trough Mike enters on piano. That guy can't half play, right?
This is what I usually tag the Basement Tape 'Summer babe' (on account of Stephen's craggy Dylan-as-old-man vocal) or the 'slack motherfucker' version. It's a pastiche of something, and god knows what put 'em up to it, but it's got a lot of charm.
Shout-out request: if anyone has a recording of this that doesn't skip, I would be so thankful!
'In between days' (yes, the Cure) is from the concert itself. 'Lot of guitar in your face,' says Stephen, dismissing it. John thinks it's awesome. He's right. Uhm Stephen, a lot of that guitar in my face is exactly what I'm looking for.
Fun.
Unknown soundcheck
Mama(jam)
From an unidentified other 2003 soundcheck comes this embryonic 'Mama' jam. The guitar riff and the chorus chords are written – the rest not so much, ad-libbed vocals on a different melody line, bass and drums are searching.
It kinda corrects my assumption that 'Face the truth' was a basement creation by Stephen in isolation. Going into it the Jicks were there (see also the early version of 'It kills' on the Emo's show from march 2003). Somewhere along the line the mad scientist monomanical artist took over (aka Stephen's inner Todd Rundgren).
Not good in any traditional sense, but fascinating. I'd rather hear this than watch that Godard movie about the Rolling Stones stumbling towards 'Sympathy for the devil'.
2003/03/21, Crystal ballroom, Portland
Old Jerry
There are 6 known recorded versions of 'Old Jerry'. We've encountered an early version played during the april 2002 South American tour (note 27) and the studio version (note 31). The other 4 versions are all live takes from the 2003 Pig Lib tours. He would burn through all of the song's potential in 2003, reaching ever more intense peaks (you'll see). And indeed, after 2003 it seems the songs was put in storage indefinitely. I've heard rumours of a 2014 freak sighting, but no recording or confirmation.
Here, from the start of the tour, a beautiful subdued version, leaning heavily on the electric piano and with some elegiac guitar skronk additions. An early morning version, with a feeling almost like innocence.
36
2003/04/07, unknown location
Rattled by the rush (instr)
Soundcheck jam
Summer babe
In between days
Unreleasable, unique little moments I always listen to with a smile on my face, however unformed they may be. The first three tracks are from the soundcheck (don't know where this show is taking place), and offer a view 'behind the scenes' (so to speak – I suppose we don't have to expect a Jicks reality show anytime soon, thank God). Turns out when no one's listening they like to riff on old Pavement songs too!
The 'Rattled by the rush' instrumental is just a tantalizing fragment. They spend about half of its 40 seconds negotiating whether they're playing the verse or the chorus. The bass just doesn't find the right notes. And yet, it's delicious. Maybe it's just the Proustian rush of it.
'Soundcheck jam' – for some of us two words that will always gladden our hearts! There aren't many recordings of the Jicks just jamming, and that's a shame. This rare instance shows them pretty good at getting a mood down right away. Starts with a bassline, John is on it with a simple beat immediately, Stephen plays some atmospheric guitar flourishes and mumbles some half-vocals (but really right for the feeling of the moment) and halfway trough Mike enters on piano. That guy can't half play, right?
This is what I usually tag the Basement Tape 'Summer babe' (on account of Stephen's craggy Dylan-as-old-man vocal) or the 'slack motherfucker' version. It's a pastiche of something, and god knows what put 'em up to it, but it's got a lot of charm.
Shout-out request: if anyone has a recording of this that doesn't skip, I would be so thankful!
'In between days' (yes, the Cure) is from the concert itself. 'Lot of guitar in your face,' says Stephen, dismissing it. John thinks it's awesome. He's right. Uhm Stephen, a lot of that guitar in my face is exactly what I'm looking for.
Fun.
Unknown soundcheck
Mama(jam)
From an unidentified other 2003 soundcheck comes this embryonic 'Mama' jam. The guitar riff and the chorus chords are written – the rest not so much, ad-libbed vocals on a different melody line, bass and drums are searching.
It kinda corrects my assumption that 'Face the truth' was a basement creation by Stephen in isolation. Going into it the Jicks were there (see also the early version of 'It kills' on the Emo's show from march 2003). Somewhere along the line the mad scientist monomanical artist took over (aka Stephen's inner Todd Rundgren).
Not good in any traditional sense, but fascinating. I'd rather hear this than watch that Godard movie about the Rolling Stones stumbling towards 'Sympathy for the devil'.
zaterdag 26 september 2015
360 records from the year 2000: 290 - 281
290. Toru Takemitsu: I hear the water dreaming
It’s a great soundworld, but someone forgot to turn on the light.
289. Los lobos: Run away with you
A bootleg of a December 1999 show. I quite like Los Lobos, but they were very right not to release live stuff like this – an unremarkable set of amped up Mexican r&b played too fast and blustering blues guitar solos.
At its best: Angel dance, This time
288. Thievery corporation: The mirror conspiracy
What’s wrong with the tail end of trip hop in 2000 is that it’s all so impersonal, more like a creation of etiquette circles than of artists. All the fancy middle eastern flavors and bossa nova influences are just window dressing on a stale slate.
At its best: So com voce
287. Ten Benson: Hiss
Sub-ZZ Top garage rock. Could’ve been entertaining, but oh, they forgot the songs.
At its best: I don’t buy it
286. Januaries: Januaries
A bid for post-modern Blondie?
At its best: Love has flown, a great pop song in the midst of overly self-aware retro’kitsch’.
285. Six by seven: The closer you get
Shoegazer throwback, in the heavy rocking 2000 vein (rather than the ethereal revival these days). A couple of good tracks, but overall, a little too light.
Edit: Forget about those good tracks – on closer inspection I couldn’t find ‘em anymore.
At its best: 100 and something Foxhall road
284. Mojave 3: Excuses for travellers
Today's special is British indie slowcore
We sell so much of this people wonder what we put in it
We're going to tell you right now
Give me about a half a teacup - of Neil Young acoustic guitar strum
Now I need a pound of preciously literate lyrics about writing letters from the frontlines of love
Now give me four tablespoons of boiling overblown arrangements without rhyme or reason
This is going to taste all right
Now just a little pinch of painfully white gospel backing vocals
Place on the burner
And bring to a simmer
That's it, that's it, don’t let it boil
Let it simmer
Let it simmer
Now simmer
Simmer some more
At its best: She broke you so softly, Prayer for the paranoid
283. U2: Million dollar hotel OST
‘Million dollar hotel’ was a Bono vanity movie project that went nowhere. The soundtrack has vanity written all over it. A high quality cast of players, of course, but in service of what? A couple of nice enough U2-by-numbers, ‘Falling at your feet’ and ‘The first time’. A number of drifting vague compositions that exploit mood for all their worth but end up sounding like the middle of nowhere (one has Bono crooning ‘weightless…stateless…’ for a long time, another begins with a movie dialogue ‘It was just when I jumped that I realized life is perfect. It’s filled with magic, beauty, opportunity…and television’). At that point it hits me that Bono may be semi-talented, he’s not half as talented as he wishes he was. After that it’s further downhill with Milla Jovovich purring and screeching through ‘Satellite of love’ like a real movie star acting like a singer, and a Spanish cover of ‘Anarchy in the UK’.
At its best: Falling at your feet, The first time
At its worst: Milla Jovovich does awful things to the last minute of ‘Satellite of love’.
282. Jill Scott: Who is Jill Scott?
It’s my belief more people than you think go to psychologists not to have better relations, but to have relations – but more about that later.
We’re quick to point out impoverished musicianship in rock, but it’s just the same in black music. This record’s self-aggrandizing intro finds Jill explicating her inspirations (I mean, really, why tell us on your own record? I’m listening to it already - I can hear it):‘listening to jazz’, while the whole set up of the ‘Jilltro’ is to make us buy into the notion of Jill Scott as a jazz poet, orating her sharp thoughts and declamations in an underground club. Don’t believe it, jazz has been narrowed down to a couple of electric piano thrills, the jazz poet is reciting Carly Simon.
I don’t know many records so completely obsessed with the artist’s vision of him/herself as a lover (except for one song about the familiar underground jazz poet staple ‘are we watching tv, or is the tv watching us’, titled… ‘Watching me’). All of this is about relations, and with relations she means sex, and boy, sex changes her life all the time. It’s so intense and meaningful and sexy. I have a normal relationship and I don’t need to hear about this stuff. This record might just as easily be called ‘The 18 orgasms that changed my life’ or even ’18 orgasms that changed my life’ (cause who knows how many outtakes there are). But don’t expect to hear anything about the orgasms, right, just about how her life was changed – cause that’s what you should be interested in, you pervert, her life!
One thing Jill has in common with Carly and other early 70s soft singer-songwriters, is a complete immersion in contemporary psychology gobbledygook. So you get heavy breathing and whispering in some guys ear to release his inner warrior and stuff like that (it’s on there, I’m not looking up the song title, I’ve suffered enough – Edit: oh alright, it’s ‘Show me’). Another track (edit: ‘Honey molasses’, just so you know) contains an answer machine message from Jill: ‘Hey… last night was… (heavy breathing again)…it was (god, this woman is getting off on just remembering her orgasms)…look, just don’t…be scared’. Run, brother, run and never set foot in an underground jazz poetry club again! I understand, we all want to eat strawberries after sex once, but you can’t trust anyone who buys ‘em wholesale.
At its best: ‘Do you remember’, I guess
281. Tangerine dream: The seven letters from Tibet
Pretty, but I won’t miss it. Wallpaper.
289. Los lobos: Run away with you
At its best: Angel dance, This time
288. Thievery corporation: The mirror conspiracy
At its best: So com voce
287. Ten Benson: Hiss
At its best: I don’t buy it
286. Januaries: Januaries
At its best: Love has flown, a great pop song in the midst of overly self-aware retro’kitsch’.
285. Six by seven: The closer you get
Edit: Forget about those good tracks – on closer inspection I couldn’t find ‘em anymore.
At its best: 100 and something Foxhall road
284. Mojave 3: Excuses for travellers
We sell so much of this people wonder what we put in it
We're going to tell you right now
Give me about a half a teacup - of Neil Young acoustic guitar strum
Now I need a pound of preciously literate lyrics about writing letters from the frontlines of love
Now give me four tablespoons of boiling overblown arrangements without rhyme or reason
This is going to taste all right
Now just a little pinch of painfully white gospel backing vocals
Place on the burner
And bring to a simmer
That's it, that's it, don’t let it boil
Let it simmer
Let it simmer
Now simmer
Simmer some more
At its best: She broke you so softly, Prayer for the paranoid
283. U2: Million dollar hotel OST
At its best: Falling at your feet, The first time
At its worst: Milla Jovovich does awful things to the last minute of ‘Satellite of love’.
282. Jill Scott: Who is Jill Scott?
We’re quick to point out impoverished musicianship in rock, but it’s just the same in black music. This record’s self-aggrandizing intro finds Jill explicating her inspirations (I mean, really, why tell us on your own record? I’m listening to it already - I can hear it):‘listening to jazz’, while the whole set up of the ‘Jilltro’ is to make us buy into the notion of Jill Scott as a jazz poet, orating her sharp thoughts and declamations in an underground club. Don’t believe it, jazz has been narrowed down to a couple of electric piano thrills, the jazz poet is reciting Carly Simon.
I don’t know many records so completely obsessed with the artist’s vision of him/herself as a lover (except for one song about the familiar underground jazz poet staple ‘are we watching tv, or is the tv watching us’, titled… ‘Watching me’). All of this is about relations, and with relations she means sex, and boy, sex changes her life all the time. It’s so intense and meaningful and sexy. I have a normal relationship and I don’t need to hear about this stuff. This record might just as easily be called ‘The 18 orgasms that changed my life’ or even ’18 orgasms that changed my life’ (cause who knows how many outtakes there are). But don’t expect to hear anything about the orgasms, right, just about how her life was changed – cause that’s what you should be interested in, you pervert, her life!
One thing Jill has in common with Carly and other early 70s soft singer-songwriters, is a complete immersion in contemporary psychology gobbledygook. So you get heavy breathing and whispering in some guys ear to release his inner warrior and stuff like that (it’s on there, I’m not looking up the song title, I’ve suffered enough – Edit: oh alright, it’s ‘Show me’). Another track (edit: ‘Honey molasses’, just so you know) contains an answer machine message from Jill: ‘Hey… last night was… (heavy breathing again)…it was (god, this woman is getting off on just remembering her orgasms)…look, just don’t…be scared’. Run, brother, run and never set foot in an underground jazz poetry club again! I understand, we all want to eat strawberries after sex once, but you can’t trust anyone who buys ‘em wholesale.
At its best: ‘Do you remember’, I guess
281. Tangerine dream: The seven letters from Tibet
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