Also included: Part 3 of The Book of Fables.
To Cornsnake Commander, who may be from Venus.
Valient Thorr are from the three rivers inside of Venus and are stranded on earth. For a while they lived in North Carolina where Valient Himself worked the door at the Local 506. These days they tour around with the Warped Tour and have gotten a bit political. But like with the MC5, who they channel very well, it is easy to see through the political veil and see the reason they really are here on earth. This clip describes it pretty well for me.
Here’s Valient Thorr
And here’s part 3 of The Book of Fables:
THE BAND OF BROTHERS
Most people referred to them as the Band of Brothers, which was a common mistake due to the fact that it was difficult to distinguish one from the others. They, themselves, didn’t call themselves anything, and mostly referred to each other as “hey man” or “lanky” or “stinky” because the truth is that even they couldn’t distinguish each other very well. So everyone thought they were quadruplets, however, this was not the case. They had only met a few years earlier when the four of them found themselves to be the only audience members at a concert by the Bicentennial Bluesman.
The Bicentennial Bluesman was so called because he was well over 200 years old. He thought he got an even better deal out of the devil at the crossroads when he got eternal life as long as he kept playing the blues. But now, more than 200 years later, he prayed each day would be his last. Many times already he had tried to stop. Many times he had tried playing something other than the blues, but the blues kept sneaking back into his songs. Many times he had destroyed his guitar in anger and frustration, swearing on his mother’s grave, and then his wife’s grave, and his daughter’s grave, and his grandaughter’s. On all their graves he swore never to pick up an instrument again, devil be damned. But the deal wasn’t that he would die immediately after he stopped playing, but some indefinite time afterwards and somehow he could never stay away long enough to find out if it was true, the pain in his heart and the confusion in his mind always brought him back to the blues and so he continued to live. And his songs were all about the pain of not being able to let go, about the pain of living, about the pain he felt every time he felt the pleasure of playing the blues. And thus the Bicentennial Bluesman carried on playing the blues, even though audiences had long ago stopped attending his performances after they realized that he really was not going to die, and in the endless comfort of their homes, audiences would always plan to go see him next time he played in town. But at that one performance, they were there, the four who would soon become the Band of Brothers. They had never met, but as they listened to the Bicentennial Bluesman they all had the same idea.
It only took them a little bit of talking and drinking after the show to realize they had a lot in common. All each of them wanted to do was play music, listen to music and travel the land. The very next day they started off together and they had been roaming the land ever since, going far and wide playing like a cavalcade as it went from town to town only to stop and play music that sounded like a cavalcade going from town to town only to stop and play music that sounded like a cavalcade going from town to town only to stop and play music that… well you get the drift. The music they played together was in perfect galloping rhythm, one steady four-headed machine that while never changing speed, always appeared to be accelerating.
And playing their music they traveled the land, and followed any faint distant rumbling that came within earshot to find the places where music was being played and where they could play and listen to music. And that is how they came to hear the music made by the Hippies at the Basement Hippie Camp, by the Composing Family, by the Motionless Busker, by the Mountain Marching Band, by the Metalhead in the woods, and it is rumored that they even heard the strange music of the Garadiabolo, who some claimed was the music of Black Death itself, and which only The Goths ever claimed having heard, though they could never prove it. They played many gigs, drank many drinks and met many strangers and one day as they moved from one town to the next they met the DJ.
The DJ immediately gained their attention as she flew above them. Though she was so high up that she could barely be distinguished, the sounds of “Break Out The Shit” by The Burdens’ could clearly be heard coming from her direction and reverberating all around them. As they looked up searching for the source of the song, they saw the DJ flying down from her heights towards them. And as she got closer they noticed that although the music seemed to come from her direction, she carried no device to transmit it. Soon the DJ landed in their midst and folded her wings, and the music which was now deafeningly rockin’ suddenly stopped.
“Man, what a rockin’ tune!” said one of the brothers, I’m not sure which one, “That’s got to be The Burdens. I’d recognize that bass anywhere.” “Yes, it’s a new Burdens song I picked up just a couple of days back.” And so they started to talk and kept talking about this music and that music and when the sun started to set, the Band of Brothers set-up and started to play. Some of the people from the vicinity heard it and showed up, but not that many, however they played to their hearts’ content as they always did. The DJ took it all in and afterwards they all drank until one of them ran into a tree. The police were called and they all spent the night in jail exchanging songs. The next morning they said goodbye to the hospitable police department and the DJ spread her wings and took off through the air. And the Band of Brothers gazed in hangover and wonder as they listened to one of their songs blasting over the small town’s airwaves.
Much to their surprise, when they reached the next town they were met by The Groupies who immediately showered them with love which was meant for their music, but given to them instead, and which they did not reject. Soon thereafter came Managers & Promoters and many more, some more interested in the music, others more interested in The Groupies, then came those who were interested in Managers & Promoters, and then those who were interested in those who were interested in Managers & Promoters or The Groupies, and little by little the circle got wider and wider and wider around the Band of Brothers, and though some of those on the far edges of the great circle had never even heard a Band of Brothers song, everyone knew their names, their favorite colors, their birthdates, their favorite food and soon everyone knew they weren’t brothers, and could tell them apart and had their favorite, and some were more favorite than others. And in a few years…
Well, we all know how the story goes. Even before they went their separate ways, people were already hard pressed to imagine how anyone could’ve ever not been able to tell them apart.
Moral: Don’t get too serious about being in a band, it probably won’t last long.
and Scotland really does have a loch ness monster, so it’s a bit scary to go out searching for Dallas Dhu on your own.
Came into work on a Sunday and end up shopping for single malts. Typical. Here it is.
That definitely sounds like a special occasion scotch. The most I’ve ever paid for a bottle was actually a bottle of Glenlivet 18 year that my wife bought me for my birthday last July. I’ve still got about 1/4 of it. I think it was about 65-75$, and I have been savoring it sparingly. I’m used to being able to afford only about 30-40$ bottles with any regularity. It looks like the Dallas Dhu comes in at about 100$, right?
er, I would probably get the £62.09 ($135) one from Duncan & Taylor if I were seriously considering the purchase. It’s 58.3% alchohol, so it’s meant to be cut. The dollar is crap right now.
Two questions, both of which may well have obvious answers. Then one bit of information, again might be obvious, that I found VERY intriguing:
1. Is that a Cask Strength?
2. Must I go to Scottland? I couldn’t find a link to purchase on the DT site, so I assume so.
Now for the interesting info: You can purchase a DAMNED CASK!
I suggest a cask bottling of Nonalignment Pact Scotch Whiskey, bottled at, oh I don’t know, Macallan in 1968. I have no idea how much they price these at, but I propose we do some kind of NAP fundraiser to keep us all in fine Scotch Whiskey! Maybe the proposed NAP show. Any takers?
Matthew I like your stream of consciousness writing even if DD doesn’t. I mean sometimes I am too lazy to read all of it but that goes for the New York Times too. Great Aspen stories btw.
And great comments about Dylan. I think Dylan is totally fun if in a more mean spirited way than Donovan. I laugh hard to Dylan and a chuckle at Donovan’s cute-ness. But when they get serious, there’s only one I can stand to listen to.
I am also (please note paragraph break if holding DD’s attention means something to you) a big fan of Sandinista. Years ago I lent my copy to Chenoah S, who used to play fiddle for de Schmog and also with Two Star. I lent it to her so she could learn the fiddle in Lose My Skin and I never got it back.
The Ramones, Clash showdown needs to happen but Carlos says he won’t take you on in this ring. Has to be timed to some other post.
SoR,
1.) Yes
2.) I would try calling them first. There may be some export laws that force them to sell through an America distributor, and I don’t think there is one.
I would be up for the cask purchase.
Glenfiddich is what us Clan Of Cameron Highlanders drink.
Dylan is just annoying. It takes more than wit to make me champion your cause.
Aside: How come no one is willing to speak the obvious about Shakira? She sings like fucking Kermit The Frog.
Matthew, i dig your aspen stories too. Wish i had known you when i lived there. Most of the locals i knew were transplant ski bums.
As for the length of your posts, if im interested i read them, if your talking about something i dont care about, i dont. length is not that important. I personally think you have an interesting way of going on and on. when i’m interested.
The first clash record i ever heard was Sandinista, which i checked out of the local record library down the street from my moms house in Brussels. This was not a book library that had records, this was a record library filled with any record you could imagine, and it was public so i got a card and the whole time i was there i would check out records every week. I used to think every modern city had those until i learned better. And Sandinista is also my favorite Clash record (though i cant sit and listen to the whole thing in one sitting, and also part of the reason its my favorite its cause it hasnt been completely over exposed and i wont hear it every time i go to the bar. But we’ll take that up in the future Ramones vs Clash discussion.
Kilian, a final word on Donovan and Dylan, if you don’t laugh hard with Donovans songs then you need to review them again. Donovan is laughing at the concept of existence itself, Dylan is commenting on reality.
Carlos should select a Donovan song for the next podcast and I’ll let Matthew choose the Dylan since he saw through John’s little joke.
I dont really have to select a song. Everyone knows First There is Mountain which is what i would select if i was to select one. But since everyone knows it they can just play it in their heads. Plus, its not really about the music kilian, right?
Yeah you’re right, it’s about the whiskey.
exactly.
And EM… Shakira? wow, that is right out left field, unless you saw her at the grammys or something. Maybe a different week we can go Shakira vs. Alanis.
Shakira? Alanis? Is that all you can think of Carlos? I thought what we had was something real but now i see that all you can think of is these no talent floozies.
It is over between us! You hear over. Break the heart of Celine Dion if you must but remember me when you find yourself on the street alone dying liek the sad little man you are.
You make me sick,
Celine
Celine, does that mean you’re gonna stop calling me and leaving singing messages on my voicemail 30 times a day? oh no. what will i do?
Are you mocking me, those messages are from my man-servant Manuel.
Oh how precocious we are… Carlos. I never heard such insolence from your lips when you were I made you my man-servant years ago. No, then you were sweet and submissive. But now I see that my years of sheltering and feeding you were wasted on an ungrateful imp whose devotion was simply opportinistic.
Avoir Cruel Carlos
Avoir,
PS If you must be so curel please return the bejeweled thong to me.
I dont care what you say, i’m keeping the thong. And dont show up trying to steal it, or i’m gonna lock you up in the closet again.
Wow, my first Clash acquisition was through a library too. Not a bad-ass record one, though. For me it was Give ‘Em Enough Rope, which I hated with a passion. I like the Clash okay now, but I’m getting over them. And I never really gave a shit about the Ramones. I say they both huff knob, and I wash my hand of the affair.
Hopefully I didn’t chase Matthew away. Sorry if I put my foot in it, Matthew, do what you want, I didn’t mean to be a dick.