Tuesday, August 19
Tuesday, August 5
Grandma take me home
Love Buzz (with ensuing fight and destruction) starts at 40:00
Grohl: ”Nirvana’s show in Dallas at a club called Trees in 1991 was the closest thing to a punk rock riot I’ve ever seen. It was way over capacity, Kurt got punched in the face, he smashed the monitor board to bits and then hit a bouncer in the head with his guitar. There was blood everywhere. We were told that the people who worked there were going to kill us so we got in a cab but it was mobbed and they smashed a window. I jumped back in the club, got a ride with some chick and we got into a car accident. This was all in the course of two-and-a-half hours...”
The guitar used at the Dallas show.
NY 1989
Friday, August 1
“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.”
― Hunter S. Thompson
Tuesday, July 29
under the rocks are snails and we can fills our pockets and let them go one by one all day in a brand new place.
painters:
Piero di Cosimo
Andy Kehoe
"The Celibate Life"
The dust from a four-day affair is now landing
All over the floor and your brown legs,
The gold plated legs of my rival,
Whose eyes have no reason to fall.
You've led no celibate life,
No skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride, and your fables
Are falling tonight.
Because of your struggle to make them
The taste for your past life is fading.
Remember the girls in the middle
Are always the first to fall off.
You've learned to live like a mouse,
Searching the cracks in the walls to remember
All of the dregs of the crowd
You barely recall.
You've led no celibate life,
No skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride.
You're falling tonight.
All over the floor and your brown legs,
The gold plated legs of my rival,
Whose eyes have no reason to fall.
You've led no celibate life,
No skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride, and your fables
Are falling tonight.
Because of your struggle to make them
The taste for your past life is fading.
Remember the girls in the middle
Are always the first to fall off.
You've learned to live like a mouse,
Searching the cracks in the walls to remember
All of the dregs of the crowd
You barely recall.
You've led no celibate life,
No skirt while chemicals danced on your head.
You stole the keys to this ride.
You're falling tonight.
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