Helen Caddes, the first of you all to recognize the exquisite beauty of the pearls I cast before you, has made a request - and hereabouts, we treat those with reverence. She would like to hear her favorite VWC song, "Revolver." A superb choice.
I rather liked the FUN FACTS thing I did for "The Elephant" or whatever that ponderous dirge was called - I thought it would never end. Remember: if it doesn't end with an exclamation point, it is not an authentic Virgin-Whore Complex FUN FACT, and you should summon an adult immediately.
FUN FACTS:
1: This song is about an escaped lunatic, and is told from his not very reliable viewpoint. He's violent and dangerous, but - like all such people, I believe, even the ones who want people to think they're violent and dangerous - believes in his heart he's really a very decent fellow, driven to the occasional murder by circumstances; in his case, direct instructions from God, of whom he believes without question he is an agent. Chipworth Community is the mental care facility he has just escaped from, completely undetected; Father Kennedy (who is blind, hence the "eyes burnt white") is a fellow inmate he has come to regard as even closer to God than himself, and who is actually even further gone in the depths of insanity, but is less of a threat to others. Our narrator considers him the very model of sanity, and our story begins with him having made his escape, and saying his farewells. He'll actually kind of miss the place. But he has divine errands to run. He has learned through God that it is a service on behalf of outcasts of all kinds ("madmen and deviates," etc.) when he kills an intellectual or a gay man. Anyone wearing glasses is clearly the former, any male who looks at him is the latter. He gets extra credit from God for brutality, and before long he has killed one. Maybe more. The song's end finds him happy and free, with every likelihood of continuing in his divine mission!
2: These lyrics were written in a single afternoon in Napa Valley, where the Napa State Mental Hospital can be found (I've never actually seen it), entirely under the influence of LSD, which may or not be true as far as you know, but would go some way to explaining the "trees of sculpted lead" and the "acid's immediate." Oh; and that's the possessive form for acid, not a contraction of acid is. Misinterpret it at your peril!
3: I have completely forgotten how to play this song; I have not he faintest clue what the chords are. I know I was never once able to play it and sing it simultaneously; the rhythm guitar part is tricky!
4: The last several lines, which play with "rain-soaked earth you flowers struggle through," are just a bit of silliness; they have no relevance to the story. "Ice" was, at the time this was written, described breathlessly in magazine articles as the next super-addictive drug that would destroy the country in a few short weeks!
Almost forgot the lyrics:
Goodbye, Chipworth Community Some people die of sheer continuity I don't mind the role so much as What it might do to me And in turn what I might do to you
Take faith, blind Father Kennedy Eyes burnt white with Jesus' serenity Caked in filth from head to toe and Screaming obscenities Who else understands the good you do?
I guess it's time I made a change So I might just as well make a complete one
And the sun shines low and red Between these trees of sculpted lead On these velvet hills I never quite outgrew And the rain-soaked earth you flowers struggle through
Raise hell, madmen and deviates Widows and dope fiends Whores and inebriates Heaven's joys are long withheld but Acid's immediate Almost always less expensive, too
God's wrath, smite intellectuals Find, expose and kill homosexuals Rip their tongues out Pound their heads in Pull off their testicles Sing, thou sword of Jesus, keen and true
And if I have to be a bastard I might just as well be a complete one
In the garden there's a raincoat In the raincoat there's a man And an ugly black revolver In my violently shaking hands And I can't recall exactly what I dreamt last night But I woke up feeling terribly angry
To see the sun shine low and red Between these trees of sculpted lead On these velvet hills I never quite outgrew And the rain-soaked earth you flowers struggle through And the plainclothesed earth you flowers struggle through
Rain-soaked earth you flowers struggle Family, friends, career you juggle Fifteen keys of ice you smuggle through
My Trusted MOGs
Hooray! I love the back-story. Maybe I should learn to play it so you can sing with me! I will have to meditate on this.
This is the best song EVER!
My Trusted MOGs
nice tune. it put me in a good mood despite being about a murderous lunatic
My Trusted MOGs
Helen, if someone with your discerning eye, someone whose convictions could remain as true and pure as yours, someone with tastes as solid and a love of music as profound as I have always said you possess, could have argued our case - had just been there to tell people there was something to us - the sky might have been the limit for the VWC. The mind reels. We could have had as many as forty, maybe forty-five fans. We could put out a record and be sure of selling at least thirty copies. I... I... [This train of thought is dizzying to zarpex; he reaches for a desk behind him and finds only empty air with his hand. He collapses to the floor in a dead faint.] Actually, Helen, someone keep the faith would have been a real balm, but a proper singer wouldn't have hurt, either. You don't sing by any chance, do you?
Charley! Well, I like to think of it more as a... How should I put it? It's not just trying to be perverse, or wrapping a subversive premise in smiles. It's more like building your own eventualities by means of attitude. There are homicidal maniacs in this world who believe they are doing us a favor by killing this guy here, that guy there, etc. The odds that one will pull your number out of the hat are almost zero, but the harm they can do to you by keeping you up nights worrying, or freaking the wife out, or taking from your finances in security systems you'll never need, or all those things they do to you without doing anything to you? Killers aren't coming. They're off somewhere talking to flowers. They have a long list of people to kill before you. You can defeat him in advance or surrender to him in advance; he'll never actually get you.
My Trusted MOGs
[hits like button]
My Trusted MOGs
but a proper singer wouldn't have hurt?...huh??? since when do we want proper? have i missed a bulletin somewhere? what is a proper singer?
Oh... you mean like m.c hammer....now i get it..
also how many questions can i ask in a row typing in lower case before i get into hot water?
The Fun Facts are a definite must by the way. Your song? Brilliantly twisted!
Here is the link in case you need to get some of that "proper" stuff.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhmiR18iGVg
My Trusted MOGs
Sunny! Okay, you're not derm, you're not Cody... You wouldn't have the temerity to waltz in, bring about the goal that has eluded me for so long, the quickly shatter that record - have a name that translates into English as "happy, pleasant things" - and actually exist would you? I mean, that's guts. No, no. You're... You couldn't possibly be dmdm... You're... No... My God. Tell me you're nonexistent, for heaven's sake!
Sir yummygatalover, where have you BEEN!? There's this massive party one post down in your honor, you realize, don't you? I think it's getting a little out of control, in fact... You are a Knight of the zarpexian Empire; you can ask whatever questions you want whenever you please. But you would be well-served to project a little more "class," you know? And you know what I mean by "proper singer" someone who can just identify, target and eliminate notes with some kind of advanced smart weaponry. Someone with a GOOD voice. Unlike my feeble, can't-be-heard-over-a-light-breeze voice? That kind of thing. I mean, for God's sake, Sir yummygatalover, don't you have a tie or a turtleneck at least or something...?
My Trusted MOGs
My dear zarpex, I have played Stay Away From My Mother in many a car with a cd player for an unsuspecting driver. This interplay has often lasted until, or even beyond "Anyway" - where, should the driver protest, I could blithely ask "What's your problem anyway?" I have also recited the lyrics upon many an occasion in public places.
As for singing, as the fates would have it, I do sing.
My Trusted MOGs
Well let me see... i was over at the other post thanking you for the party you threw. Appreciated immensely. thanks to you once again... alas no tie ...no turtleneck .... class projection? I'll be staying home on that one. It seems i may have gotten off on the wrong floor, I'll catch the next car down...
YGL
My Trusted MOGs
Helen, that's absurd. You're one of two people in the entire U.S. (not already friends or relatives) who had anything positive to say about us as of last September, so far as Google could tell. You steer me to the most exciting battlefield in all the history of psychological warfare (including the experiments with BZ in Langley in the 60's). You actually know our lyrics and can quote from them as the situation warrants. You offer to step in on guitar (I can guarantee you in writing already you'd be an improvement). Now you can sing? Come on. What, "sing"? I can "sing." Can you SING? Like, well? Can you sing like I write? Nahh; Freddie Mercury couldn't sing like I write. Didn't you say you were coming to CA or something? You're an even more absurd story than Sunshine. VERY good slow development, though. Love it.
My Trusted MOGs
I will let you be the judge.
Here is a link to a page with a song of mine: http://www.myspace.com/reactorcharge
Now, as for California, I was there last week! I have returned home since then.
My Trusted MOGs
I can't help thinking that if Jerry Garcia had stuck around and dug your lyrics, that The Grateful Dead could have gone in a very different direction these last 10 years or so.
As to these words, I identify completely. I quite often feel just like this in the morning:
In the garden there's a raincoat In the raincoat there's a man And an ugly black revolver In my violently shaking hands And I can't recall exactly what I dreamt last night But I woke up feeling terribly angry
My Trusted MOGs
Oh my god Zarpex has been bitten by MOG.
My Trusted MOGs
Zarpex - Now, I will have to disagree with you about your lack of fans. I am almost certain I once saw something about the VWC in the Rolling Stone alongside a gracious visage of Emperor Norton. There were also many more favorable articles strewn about the internet in the days when Yahoo! was king. Do not despair.
My Trusted MOGs
Jonh, my brother quotes those exact six lines all the time. I get people walking up to me at parties and saying "Your brother tells me you're a poet." "Well, no; I'm not a poet, I'm a..." "No? Your brother quoted me something - ugly black revolver in my violently shaking hands was it...?"
Seriously; that happens about once per party, realistically.
Cody, either I misunderstand that expression or I thought you'd have spotted that a while ago...
My Trusted MOGs
Really, Helen? Didn't come out last fall, I'll tell you that. But thank you. : )
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Naw, you were just dipping your toes before. You've come all the way over to the dark side now. Sure, you are right, it's been a long time since you were bitten, but now the poison is in your blood.
My Trusted MOGs
Now that you mention it, that might actually have been a much funnier substance for "Rock God" zarpex to be abusing, Cody...
My Trusted MOGs
My favorites are the third and fourth verses. But the whole song is so wonderful. I am intrigued by the back story still. It makes me wonder what the story is for "I See More". But you know, I think I might just know what that is! "See More" = "Seymour"? You see, I have spent hours wondering what these back stories could be.
My Trusted MOGs
Aww, Helen! I actually agree with you; the last two verses - and I so especially enjoyed making "intellectuals," "homosexuals" and "testicles" rhyme. Not a single one of them is quite consonant, but their assonance is... Uh oh; the humility gauge is dropping rapidly... I can't be sitting here marveling at how very clever my stuff was from fifteen years ago without going into some kind of character... Okay, new subject; "I See More." Let's see... I think that was the first song where we genuinely all contributed sections. It was basically Charlie's baby. I did the music for the choruses, Debbie did the (probably about as close to anything remotely "funky" we ever did) music for the bridge, which appears twice - slightly unorthodox, but nothing that will stun future scholars... It was a perhaps too thinly veiled dig at Seymour Stein, whom we knew only through my sitting there while his ex-wife Linda - poor creature was murdered last fall - very kindhearted woman - had screaming arguments for hours on end about the most ridiculous things... But we wanted to do something a little Talking Heads-ish; loved the Heads since their first album in '77... I thought it came through. Big surprise: not particularly gifted musicians manage to evoke other not particularly gifted musicians...
Oh my God, Cody was right...
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yes, you are fully immersed in the quicksand nightmare now. Fab song Z, i feel the Heads, but it goes a bit beyond that in the spit and flow of the lyrics; a very odd feel befitting the subject. Very cool. I'd endorse it, but that's already your trademark.
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scot! You're alive! I thought... Well, anyway...
Okay; I really might have throw this computer out the window... A bloody coke exploded on the keyboard and I have to type in slow-motion to let the keys slouch back into place... It's getting worse, not better...
My Trusted MOGs
scot! You're alive!
In another context that would be very very funny.
Scooooottttty!
Happy to see the Surfer again. Suits you well.
My Trusted MOGs
Z, still liking '4 Alarm' more.
Dig the beat, but your rapid fire throws me off.
Hold on, second listen......
Okay, 2nd listen and I dig the lyrics even more. In particular;
Acid's immediate Almost always less expensive, too
Which is so freakin true. The profit on tabs is the best.
Is this the way you talk in real life?
My Trusted MOGs
Yo, I. I guess that's not far removed from how I talk. I talk how I write. I write how I talk. And MOG just swallowed a risky one as I was previewing it. I can reassemble it, but not tonight. I'm almost glad it got chewed. Cody says I like to "stir the pot," and I don't think I really do. This wasn't stirring thie pot, exactly. It was... A Nietzschean exercise. That would have offended the daylights out of Nietzsche...I'll put it back together from memory. Maybe...
My Trusted MOGs
Zarpex, your tenor is perfect for this song, btw. There is no way Freddy Mercury could compete. I am sure you could sing "We Are The Champions" pretty well too.