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.
Valient looks fun. I would definitely go see them.
But what can we do to prevent the perpetuation of the hard-partying rocker drinking Jack Daniel’s stereotype. Jack Daniel’s tastes like shit! I really can’t think of many alcohols that taste worse. I used to laugh at bands like Guns N Roses with their Jack Daniel’s bottles and I always thought. Ha, ha, the jokes on them. They’re drinking shitty whiskey so they can try to look cool. Then I see this band who doesn’t seem to need any “cool” props and all of a sudden there’s JD bottles being passed around everywhere. We gotta do something people. I mean, I’m just thinking of the children.
Holy! I love me some denim rockers. I love how the singer makes a butterfly with his hand. And how about that Jack Daniels eh?
Thanks for another cool installment of the fable. Bluesman with a pact with the devil.. poor guy. Did you say you had read Amos Tutuolas “My LIfe IN the Bush Of Ghosts” or no? I’m still trying to push that on you. I’m your pusher.
OK!
Clay, consider that they were in LA for that video. Those guys will guzzle anything handed to them, so i wouldnt blame them but the LA fans who brought them the booze. But i agree with you JD tastes pretty nasty, i think they have a good distributor in LA. Maybe its the connection between the Tenn. and LA. all those rockers going to see Elvis’ grave and all that. To me its gotta be from Kentucky.
And EM, i’ve added that book to my cue, unfortunately there is not Netflix for books (that i know), so i ahve to wait to ahve money and then go buy it, and I am reading very slowly these days, So somewhere in between Donovan and Motley Crue autobios, the latest Love and Rockets graphic novel, some James Elroy, and some Bukowski, somewhere in there i’ll fit in some John Barth, some Haruki Murakami, and some Amos Tutuola.
I think those hard-partying rocker types should switch to homemade absythne. The brewing process could be a family event.
I’ll put a copy in the mail, cause thats the kind of pusher I am.
Of all the Murakami weirdness, my favorite of his is Norwegian Wood, one of his more straight narratives. Oh, and Barth’s first two novels are fantastic. Particularly the Floating Opera. That reminds me, I need to read the Sot Weed Factor and Chimera. Damn. My list is neverending.
Hit the LIGHTS!
Hit the LIIII–IIIGHTS!
And to paraphrase a famous quote:
“Any whiskey is good whiskey.”
I agree with Carlos, I prefer mine from Kentucky, not that burnt stuff from Tennessee, but I’ll drink it in a pinch.
Oh and did any of you Rice alumns catch the “Go Owls” hand sign? Somehow I have a feeling he’s not a graduate…
Any whisky is NOT good whisky. My father, the Ravyn, drinks Early Times whisky. Why would he drink this? you might ask. Simple: that’s what Walker Percy drank. For my money, if it must be American, it must be Knob Creek. That’s good stuff.
I would like to add to John’s endorsement of The Floating Opera. I wrote a senior thesis on that book; something about Barth fathering the rebirth of the American Locational Novel micro-genre. It was overwrought in the extreme.
I haven’t read Norweigan Wood, but have always thought of Murakami’s stuff as really well done, literate dorito books. They’re addictive, but not terribly substantial. Hell, most of them are the same story line; girl goes missing, avante-garde Joyce-ian hijinks ensue. That’s NOT a criticism.
I’m with SoR on the whiskey. I like bourbon, although I never get JD so maybe it’s something about that particular brand. I like Jim Beam though and Maker’s Mark. Of course I won’t turn down a shot of Jameson (and mind you I’ve had a few passed my way) nor for that matter a good scotch. I tell ya, this chilly weather has me craving just about any sort of whiskey. And bedtime stories from the southern snake.
Speaking of snake, Jake “the Snake” turned me on to brandy recently. I’ve been drinking a lot of that stuff – sidecar (brandy + triple sec + lemon). Poor man’s bourbon I tell ya.
I’m gonna check out this Murakami dude. Y’all got me curious and I need a new book (once I’m done with Bob Dylan’s Chronicles). Carlos put down that stupid Donovan book and pick up Chronicles. Happiness runs in a circular motion da dee da dum da dee dee…
I’m going to try to convince my wife that the Anaconda’s fables would make good bedtime fare for my 3 year old and one year old daughters. On an only slightly related note, I told my wife about Carlos’ admonition for my having decided she would not like Herzog (though in my defense, she did dismiss Aguirre by looking at the cover and announcing “I don’t like armor movies.”). She insisted that I rent some immediately. “Heart of Glass” came about a week ago, and she loved it. I was very proud when, after finishing her ill advised Netflix arrival “Failure to Launch”, she announced “that was shitty; I wish we’d watched that other one [Heart of Glass] instead.”
Anyone explain what was with the ending, though? The part with the dude’s on the island? I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Rosa told me about El Presidente brandy and I bought a bottle of it. It’s pretty good, and easy on the wallet. But Bourbon is still my number one. Yes, SOR, Knob Creek is sublime (my personal favorite) but pricey. Best “bang for the buck” is Wild Turkey 101, it’s the house whiskey at Chez Sparrow. On the more economical side, go for Weller or Ezra Brooks. Early Times is brown, and that’s about all I can say for it (I have a buddy who drinks the shit out of it, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why). Jim Beam always tasted gritty to me, but I’ll drink it if I have to.
My point here is that some of us may have more discriminating palates than others, but generally if it’s Kentucky Straight Bourbon it’ll pass muster. It ain’t nothin but corn squeezin’s, boys.
EM, thanks for the pushing. You continue to outdo you own awesomeness.
I’m looking to start with Barths’ ‘Giles Goat Boy’ and Murukami’s ‘Hard Boiled Wonderland.’ We’ll see after that. I’m very very critical of people who dont write in spanish.
And i’m with SoR, any whisky is not good whisky, but i’m also with SoH, in a pinch, i’ll drink Dickel whisky. And i’m also with SoH on the Metallica, except for Seek and Destroy, they peaked on the first song of their first record, rip right through your brain.
And kilian, i’ve just been itching to get into a Donovan vs. Dylan argument, so don’t tease me. Dylan is a douchebag. Chronicles Schmonicles, leave it for the college students. Give me some saffron anytime, cause i’m crazy about saffron.
As for the fables, I would feel honored if anyone read them to their children, though I imagine they might be better for those children that have begun to show some interest in the world of music (how old are they now when they start watching MTV? 5? 6? 7?). I would love to hear what any children think of these.
Makers or Knob Creek. If I’m broke Ancient Age, well straight kentucky bourbon at two of my local bars.
And SoR i’m glad you wife liked Heart of Glass. Herzog is often mistaken as a super macho director mainly becaus of his work with Kinski and some of his other extreme pieces, but he has a lot of work that is very contemplative, inquisitive and beautiful. We’ve already gone throuh the list in previous posts, but i can’t overemphasize the beauty and depth of his later documentaries (I’d say of the last 10 years).
I toured the Maker’s Mark distillery. They let you dip your own bottle in the red wax. Six little old ladies do all the bottling. A blood hound walked out of the hills across the campus and I thought it was cool that they had their own blood hound but then the tour guide freaked out that there was a wild dog on the property. It was a dang blood hound moving at like five yards an hour.
This comment stream is reminding me of hanging out with Chris King after gigs in his place on Saulnier. We’d watch the dog races and drink his Old Granddad. That sh*t’s nasty.
Carlos – Please I’d shake you up with my bad ass folk rocker just like Dylan unnerved Donovan in Don’t Look Back. Sure Dylan’s a douchebag but at least he doesn’t lie about it while Donovan has to go and claim that he brought Led Zeppelin together (in his autobiography)…puhlease.
In Don’t Look Back Dylan is the one who looks like a pompous asshole. Dylan is the established master and he just acts like a dick to an obviously admiring fan like Donovan. I wonder what Dylan would’ve said if Woody Guthrie woud’ve treated him like that. So yeah, dylan can write “profound” lyrics and complex thoughts. I say take it back to college. The profoundness of something like Barbajagal or Epistle to Dippy is something Dylan can only wish to emulate. I’ll let you know how i feel about his life after the autobio and reading about how he got Zep together and all. But purely on the music. No contest. If i want to read lyrics, I read my book of dylan lyrics, if i want to listen to music that takes me places i listen to donovan. This is not to say that I dont love some dylan records…. recently i have been liking me some Love and Theft quite a bit.
I like a lot of Dylan, but that guy is a complete assbag. And he may be the single most overrated artist in the entire US canon, in my opinion. Okay dude, you were prolific. You also happened to be at the right place at the right time about, oh, a million times. Maybe that’s part of his genius. And maybe he’s another in a long line of whiteys who have made a career plundering black music and making it palatable. Well, except for the album After the Flood, that shit is agonizing. Those synth tones, and his lackluster delivery. Awful.
Oh, and as for bad booze, try this one on for size: a giant tumbler full of Southern Comfort on ice, Duck Hunt on the Nintendo, and the company of a middle aged pot dealer in League City. We talked about Metallica’s first And Justice For All tour for hours. Kill me now. Nothing like hurling SC in a strangers yard while your new girlfriend wipes your brow. Thanks, T. You weren’t all bad after all.
SoCo may be the only brown liquor i might refuse. I would have to be in the grip of a very powerful thirst to drink that sugar. Funny story though John. And perfectly stated re Dylan, my thoughts exactly.
Someone told me once that SoCo tasted like bubblegum to them. On the one occasion I tried it, I had to agree. And I bet it tastes even worse coming back up.
What you guys need to do is stop talking about dried up old hippies like Donovan or Dylan, and talk about important shit like Marc Bolan.
“Everybody’s a-doin the Woodland Bop — Once you start you’ll find it’s hard to stop”
Now THAT’s some fuckin’ hippie music.
Carlos, what do you have against Herzog’s earlier documentaries? LAND OF SILENCE AND DARKNESS, for instance, is fucking awesome.
(I just got the 6 DVD set of docos and early shorts. I know what I’m watching the next couple months.)
Also, in addition to Knob Creek and Maker’s (which are both quite awesome), I recommend Woodford Reserve. That shit is tasty.
I just had Jack Daniels tonight. It was crap.
In order of preference:
McCallan’s
Glenlivet
Jameson
Knob Creek
Johnnie Walker Black
Dalmore
Jim Beam Black
Maker’s(in a pinch; I find it too sweet.)
I have recently found that, during a cold spell, I really enjoy a snifter of cognac. Damn, I feel like a douchebag just typing that. Anyway, it’s almost exclusively prohibitively expensive as anything but an EXTREMELY infrequent tipple. I’ll have to check out SoH and Rosa’s “El Presidente”; maybe inexpensive brandy will suffice.
Jesus, talk about a tangent.
dd, I love his early docs too. La Soufrierea and the Sculptor Steiner ones are some of my favorite movies of all time. I just think the later ones might be more accessible. I’m thinking the cinematography looks contemporary, they are in english, I dont know, its hard for me to tell about Herzog cause i like everything.
As for Bolan… I think there are already plenty of Bolan blogs, all run by aging rocker girls, why dont you go talk about him there. This one is for aging hippie boys.
I can’t believe I’m the one sticking up for Dylan after giving you guys a hard time for posting about all those other olde white rockers ripping off the black man. And I can think of about three hundred bazillion artists I’d bring up on that charge before Dylan. But playing Major Winchester to your BJ and Hawkeye is part of the fun. So…
If you think giving me lyrics gives you an edge think again because Dylan delivers with timing, phrasing and emotion over the sophomoric Donovan every time (I’ll take A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall and you keep Catch the Wind).
I can’t think of an artist more collegiate than Donovan. His stuff is only fit for college freshmen. Where as Dylan has influenced every songwriter and singer of our time. Hell the Byrds wouldn’t have seen the light of day without ripping into his grab bag and that goes for Fairport Convention too. Not to mention that his songs were embraced by the Black civil rights movement. I really don’t see Black America screaming about Dylan. Hurricane might not be the best song ever but it’s a damn good one and it’s about a Black Panther who Dylan actually visited in jail. And it is full of emotion.
Anyway his songs have been sung by black artists from Sam Cooke to the Supremes.
I guess Prince should have gone mellow yellow instead of rocking the Super Bowl with All along the Watch Tower or maybe Prince was just doing Jimi Hendrix doing Dylan.
And as far as being an ass-bag, I’ll bet Donovan’s an ass-bag and a douche-bag too (btw why has douche entered the vernacular again. who douches???). Who the hell isn’t a doucheassbag? But you can keep him anyway. For ass-douche-bags everywhere, I’ll take Dylan, Cash, Macgowan and Prince.
And you can keep Donovan, They Might Be Giants, Belle & Sebastian and John Denver.
p.s. in all seriousness, Chronicles is a fine read.
p.p.s. I like ordering Jim Beam at a bar. It just feels right. And I don’t like paying 8 dollars for a shot of the other stuff.
I have just recently come around to Dylan after categorically, and ignorantly, hating his music for years. The first thing that made me listen again was “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”, put on a mix for me by my friend James. I still haven’t fallen completely, and still agree with John that he is vastly overrated. As to whether or not he is a douchebag assface, I’ve never heard anything to the contrary, even from his most devout fans. That hardly matters, as far as I’m concerned.
Donovan is fun. Dylan – not so much fun. If I’m in the mood for a song I can sing along to, it’ll be Donovan over Dylan every time.
As for the six-degrees trail you noted, Dylan obviously trumps – though I must admit a serious soft spot for B&S.
p.s. As a Texan transplanted from Indiana, it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that, as Jim Goode says “You might give some serious thought to thanking your lucky stars you’re in Texas.”
In that fram of mind, my ultimate order at a bar (when possible) is a Lone Star and a shot of JB.
Wow Kilian, you are such a scholar, the way you write about dylan reminds me of an old college professor, or was it a high school prof? either way have you thought of teaching a history of folk music class at your local community college, or maybe at the Old Town School of Folk Music? you would rule that campus. Donavan might be good for the freshmen cause they still know how to have a good time and haven’t overintellectualized everything, the seniors pick dylan every time. As for why all those other people you mention havent taken him up, who knows and who cares, I would guess that Donovan songs dont go as well with masturbatory guitar solos behind a curtain as dylan songs. SoR said it right, Donovan is fun, Dylan, not so much fun. And you can keep the four you picked, I might fight for Macgowan but i think you’ve earned him, and Cash, well, ok, I can still catch his music, hmm, in every other tv ad or movie? Now I’m gonna go listen to Season of the Witch. (and be amazed that you would dare bring in TMBG.)
I’m sorry about bringing TMBG into this – I was merely trying to name douche bag artists who are good and non-douche bag artists who are boring.
You know what is totally not fun? Hearing Donovan sing the Alamo.
Why isn’t Dylan fun? He’s got lots of fun songs like Subterranean Homesick Blues, Rainy Day Women and Buckets of Rain. If you like Dylan they’re all fun. He’s not gloomy the way y’all make him out to be. If some prof somewhere wants to start a class based on his stuff I don’t think Dylan gives two sh*ts about that. And how can you knock a man on perpetual tour?
Hawkeye – I think you just lost your BJ on that masturbatory guitar thing.
You do know i’m mostly kidding right? And of course dylan has fun songs, but over all, the general image you get if you never really listened to either of them is sort of the fun vs serious. Once you really looking in their catalogs beyond Mellow Yellow and Lay Lady Lay one finds all kinds of attempts at both things and yes dylan is probably more culturally relevant, but I think in 100 years a song like Hurdy Gurdy Man might still get some play, Dylan’s pop tunes don’t seem to have the same kind of staying power, even if they might be greater works of art. But who knows. I’m ready to move on to the Clash vs. Ramones debate (on another post of course). I will of course take the Ramones. You?
Carlos that is only fair that you get the Ramones since I got the bigger guns on this round. Oh yeah I was going with this being just for fun. But it was funny. That stuff you wrote about Old Town School of Folk just about had me on the floor. But how about that Prince Super Bowl reference for punch???
I have to admit at this point that at a very influential age, when I was first writing songs, I was a big Donovan fan and it really influenced my idea for melody and play. I also liked TMBG, B&S and I still love John Denver and the Muppets Christmas Record (because my mom still plays it every year). That John Denver was a real plane to earth kind of guy.
Btw, you’re lucky you got out when you did because I was about to bring in a super fan, Jason Nodler.
Sure I’ll take the Clash when it comes around.
I’ll have an NTD special tonight in your honor. That’s pbr and a shot of beam right?
I might like John Denver more if it wasnt for the fact that before i ever heard his music i had already read countless Doonesbury strips where Uncle Duke (who was just about my favorite acid taking character when i was 14) constantly complained about his music and would try to shoot him. They ranches apparently were side by side in aspen. So if Duke didnt like it i probably wouldnt either, cause back then i took most of my cues from comic strip characters esp Duke and Zonker. And yes, i was impressed how you brought in Prince into it.
Well, the original NTD special was PBR and Beam, but after PBR refused to let us do an ad for them because of our name, so we dont use brand names anymore, just cheap beer and kentucky bourbon. And you think you’d be at a disadvantage with the Clash? Maybe I need to find me someone with a bit more faith in them.
Actually I was just sitting back watching a really lame Star Wars cartoon thinking about how much I could shred the Ramones with the Clash. But maybe you need a new challenger, so if there’s a super fan out there…
Otherwise my Clash will totaly punk out your Ramones. And if we’re talking about living and breathing members I think I still out number you.
I’ve got almost all the Doonesbury books up to Max Headroom era. Uncle Duke rules. But Mr. Denver had his moments.
SoR, I have a recommendation for you: Dallas Dhu. Otherwise, our top four single malts/whiskey/bourbons overlap. I was lectured when I bought a bottle of Dallas Dhu never to cut it with New York City water, that I would have to also transport home with me bottles of Scottish water. Would you believe I actually transported home bottled water in my luggage? And, that it was worth it. The Scots all make fun of Americans who buy Johnny Walker Blue in the duty free shops.
Holy shit! I just realized the distillery is closed. I should have bought more than one bottle.
Abelour Single Barrel Scotch Whiskey….
I need say no more. ; )
PS. Valiant Thor was genius!!!! Hillbilly metal? Awesome! Thanks for that Ro…Carlos
Remember: always pour the water in first, and then the whiskey. Why? Because when you add water to whiskey, you’re making a good drink bad, and when you add whiskey to water, you’re making a bad drink good.
Water? Never touch it. Fish fuck in it.
Christ on a fucking bicycle…I wasn’t gonna say anything, because, number one: I don’t drink, so I don’t know anything about whiskey, and number two: I thought everybody would realize that Cramer was pulling yer chain but nobody caught it…THERE AIN”T NO FUCKING DYLAN ALBUM CALLED “AFTER THE FLOOD”! It’s “BEFORE”…and it’s a live album with THE BAND, probably one of John’s favorite groups, and there also ain’t no goddamn synth tones and his vocal delivery is actually pretty pumped up…and none of you caught that shit? Jesus…I mean, I love Donovan too, but Dylan is an overrated assbag? Oh, mi corazon…yo te quiero infinito…oh, and the Clash absolutely shatter the Ramones against the wall, are you serious?
Ok, kilian, i guess you’re off the hook having to defend the clash. looks like Matthew is pretty self assured. but not on this post Matthew…
He’s gonna have to Carlos because now I’m just hurt and confused.
I knew he was out there lurking and ready to pounce though I just knew it.
By the way Matthew, I’m glad you piped in.
Well, I had to say something! I couldn’t take it anymore…granted, I really don’t know anything at all about alcohol…you could give me 600 dollar scotch and Mad Dog 20/20, and I don’t know the difference. But all this Dylan talk…I just love him to death. I even love the shitty records…well, not ALL of ‘em, but… He’s the fucking coolest…and his songs are so mean spirited, he just kills me. Man, in “Positively 4th Street” when he explains how he wishes he could switch places with the subject of the song, so then that person could know “just what a drag it is to see YOU.” I can’t stand it! You’re gonna put Donovan’s “I love my shirt, I love my shirt” up against that? Okay, I’m being silly now…admittedly, I even have the Donovan Box set…purple velvet cover, natch, and there is a certain amount of genius required to write “First there is a mountain…then there is NO MOUNTAIN…then…THERE IS.” And then have the Allman Brothers do an instrumental version that lasts 36 minutes! That’s cool, too…but Dylan in “Don’t Look Back” is such a killer. It makes sense to me…I think he realized that was the only way to keep the press, and the public at an arms length, and I think it’s a pretty good testimonial to his intelligence that he was able to figure out what sort of life lay in front of him…so he protected himself right from the beginning by acting like a jerk. Remember, this was before the days of “People” magazine, as well. Sure, there were paparazzi…there always have been, but nothing like we see today, and I really respect the smarts he had to visualize his possible future and to be able to create a character that would insure a certain amount of sanity, through a fake anonymity. What else was I gonna say…oh, Carlos…actually Hunter’s ranch and John Denver’s Ranch were NOT side by side in Aspen. Hunter lived in Woody Creek, and Denver lived in a private-drive area called “Starwood”, which was up Red Mountain. Jill Saint John, the Playmate Barbi Benton, and Dionne Warwick lived there, as well, along with a few other big shots. But what happened was this: Denver wrote a whole bunch of “Rocky Mountain High” type songs about the beautiful state of the natural world in the Rockies, and all that stuff, but then in the mid-70′s, when America was thrown into the gasoline-oil shortage crisis, well…Denver decided that he was too cool to sit around and wait in the long lines at the pumps, so he installed 2 storage tanks on his property. One holding about 5,000 gallons of gas for his own personal use…well, the townspeople called “bullshit” on his hypocritical ways, and Hunter was right up front. Personally, I didn’t know what to think, really…but I was only around ten years old, so…I remember thinking “Wow…that would be cool, to have your own private gas station.” Oh, and I also got a bit too excited about the whole Clash thing…they’re my favorite rock band, ever, and “Sandinista” is my favorite album of all time. Seriously. I love every inch of that 3-album bastard…I don’t care what anybody says, I think it’s better than “London Calling”, I think it’s better than the first one…my mom’s boyfriend bought it for me in Denver, 4 hours away from home, for 11 dollars and 99 cents, the day it was released. I got so damn excited when I held it in my hands at the store…that was the longest ride home. I fucking could not WAIT to hear it. And yes, I did get to see them play live, when I was 17…and, yes, to this day…no one has even come close. Not for me, anyway. Someday, I will write a whole blog about “Sandinista”…although, I suppose that could be viewed as a threat instead of a promise.
Matthew, I love your passion, but it drives me nuts reading 40+ lines of text without a paragraph break, and I usually give up reading your comments halfway through because of it.
Just sayin’.
Matt,
You think for a minute that I was going to read a comment about Dylan?
Fuck Dylan, we’re discussing Booze!
I can’t believe that you would have nothing to add to the Whiskey discussion!
So Heids, you bait me with Dallas Dhu, only to turn around and tell me I can’t get any? That shit ain’t right.
As for the cut, I tend to either drink neat or, if it’s a really complex single malt, just a few drops of water to shake up the molecular party just a bit. As for Johnnie Blue, that’s just stupid. Is it even a single malt? I know Black is a blend, and it’s one I like to keep on hand because it is dependable, relatively inexpensive, and is one of the better blended scotches I’ve had. I don’t always feel like sharing a bottle of Glenlivet 18, but if I have guests, they’re more than welcome to some Johnnie Black.
Ramon, I just figured out how we could settle the Dylan/Donovan dispute. I’d be willing to bet as to the outcome; the trick is to go back in time to their youth, and let Dylan drink Donovan under the table. Settled.
Hmm, you think SoR? I wonder if Dylan would drink Donovan under the table. What back up do you have that says that Dylan was a better drinker? I mean, Donovan is Scottish so I bet he’d already had a few drinks before Dylan had his bar-mitzvah.
Nobody’s voice gets that shit-ragged without pounding back quite a bit. I hadn’t taken the Scottish bit into consideration, though. . .that makes it more interesting.
SoR, you can still get it, it’s just that somebody has to go through the inconvenience of actually traveling to Scotland because they don’t bother with the export market.