whiskeyfightpit

Free Jazz saved my life. I would have just ground to a hault in some commission based sales job if it weren't for the spirit of this music. Hanging out in trendy bars, drinking trendy drinks, seducing trendy women with my various "trophies" from my various "victories" on the battlefield of capitalism. Peter Brotzmann's "Machine Gun" delivered the fatal blow akin to Jesse Ventura's gatling gun in Predator. His sax playing decemated the guerilla forces and thick jungle of my lemming ways. Free Jazz told me that there weren't any rules. But never let the lack of rules steal away any thirst or hunger. The quenching of thirst and hunger for something more "vital" with convention and gold seems to be the order of the day. Free Jazz told me that I need to become something else. Fall in line and die. The battle is in your mind and there isn't any rules...on either side. Music can be anything and it can be produced by anyone. Any religous devotion to three chords or less is unhealthy. Any stepping in time with the rules and heirarchy of the classical and jazz realms is MURDER. No one, No Style, No Instrument, No City holds domain or sole possesion of music. Clumsy orderlies tapping on the doors of the criminally insane have as much in common with percussion as Billy Cobham or Topper Headon. Anyone can BLURT. Anyone can STRUM. Keep working. Never stop listening. Stop and die. Nothing is invalid. Nothing is correct. Nothing is bad. Nothing is good. There is only what you like and what you don't like. Free Jazz told me that I am somebody. Free Jazz told me that my voice could be anywhere at anytime. Free Jazz told me that someone will listen. Everyone's wrong. Including me. There is strength and solace in that notion.

SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY

Mission Of Burma "Trem Two"
BeeGees "Black Diamonds"
John Cale "Big White Clouds"
John Lee Hooker "The Waterfront"
Buzzcocks "Have you ever fallen in love?"
Love "Message To Pretty"
Joy Division "Leaders Of Men"
Can "Star Of Bethlehem"
Gary Wilson "6.4=Makeout"

I WANT TO APPEAR TO YOU
STRANGE AND DESIRED AND RIGHTEOUS
LIKE A SALESMANS CORPSE
DELIVERING SERMONS
LIKE AN OFF-TONED PREACHER
TELLING ALL WHO WILL LISTEN
STRATEGIES AND LIES AND BREATHING FAULTS
NEVER LIVING OR APPLYING
ALL OF WHAT SOUNDS DEAR
BUT WHEN I MOVE TO RECTIFY
WHEN I TAKE A LITTLE FOR MYSELF
I KNOW ITS GOING TO HURT YOU
FALSE VISIONS OF RELAPSE
ON THE SHAKEN DECK OF RECOVERY
ITS ONLY MY JEALOUSY
ITS ONLY FAILURES ANSWER
ALL THAT IS RAINING SULFUR
ALL THAT IS SMASHING YOU DOWN
WAS BORN OUT OF PASSION
WHEN I BARK THESE HYMNS
IN BETWEEN THOSE MOLDEN PEWS
CAN YOU TRULY LOVE
ANYTHING YOU CANT HATE EQUALLY?
IT WOULD BE FOOLISH TO LISTEN
IT WOULD BE A CRIME TO TAKE TO HEART
SO IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE
TO ACT ON THIS SUNDAY VERSE
I KNOW ITS GOING TO HURT YOU
BUT I FOLLOW THROUGH ANYWAY
FALSE VISIONS OF RELAPSE
ON THE SHAKEN DECK OF RECOVERY
USING HUMILIATION
USING SPITE AND WIT AND CHARM ALL THE WHILE
LIKE A SALESMANS CORPSE
CLOSING THE DEAL
I WANT TO APPEAR TO YOU
STRANGE
DESIRED
RIGHTEOUS
UNNATURAL
UNHOLY
BUT HANDSOME ALL THE WHILE