You’re Gonna Lose That Girl, mixed media 2010, expired Polaroid 200 film mounted on vinyl (detail).
Archive for the ‘The Rock and The Roll’ Category
You Weird
faked by gorjus Saturday, August 28th, 2010There is nothing about you playing that 2005 Duran Duran tour DVD so loud that I can hear it over my window unit that is not just so sad and weird, middle aged neighbor bro. I shan’t judge if you want to spin “Girls on Film” or “Rio” and even though “Come Undone” is lowly treacle a girl I loved put it on a mix tape for me so it gets a pass, too, but recent live versions with huge Warrant-drums?
That’s just depressing, is all.
THE KIDS ARE THE SAME! The Paul Collins Beat Lives On
faked by gorjus Friday, July 23rd, 2010There is a secret river that runs through rock and roll. It’s the same river Elvis traveled at first—and later the Velvet Underground, Big Star, and Chronic Town-era R.E.M. It’s that burbling, hidden music that never makes the radio and your parents never like, the kind only traded on mixtapes in high school bathrooms or sold as dusty relics at Goner or Shangri-La or Little Big Store.
Oh, Fickle, Fickle Heart: Or, how Prof threatened to break up with the Hold Steady after their very first argument.
faked by Professor Fury Friday, July 9th, 2010So I was thinking lately about how gorjus is going to see the Hold Steady in Memphis soon, and I was getting a little sad. (more…)
OH DARLIN’
faked by gorjus Monday, June 28th, 2010
Polaroid 600, battered Smith-Corona, Starkville, Miss. 2008.
WŌDNESDÆG
faked by gorjus Friday, June 25th, 2010
Polaroid 600, battered Smith-Corona, lyrics by the Drive-By Truckers, Jackson, Miss., behind the old Ink Spot on East Capitol.
This is for sale at Left of the Dial. Come see us July 29, 2010. We will give you hugs.
GRAVITY’S GONE
faked by gorjus Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010
Mississippi State Fair, Polaroid 420 Land Camera with 669 film, battered Smith-Corona, 2008.
THAT’S ALL RIGHT; or, Tom Sawyer’s Comrade.
faked by gorjus Wednesday, June 9th, 2010It’s fifteen years since
we rode that hayride, strode
that stage, since they
cut your hair & fixed your teeth.
When was the last time you talked
to Bill? She’d asked, and
you lied and said, May.
Truth was he wouldn’t
even return your calls anymore, that
big-headed bastard, the
chitlin circuit he’s riding
not even a fraction
of what we’d do in the old days.
So you got the boys together to
head out to California, something
about it always made you feel so good.
And you stood on a corner in Los Angeles
& for the first time in your life
you ain’t the one with the longest hair.
I never knew what was going
thru that head of yours at
any given time but I know
it broke your heart when
those teenagers stomped right on by,
humming Cream & Moby Grape.
I ain’t saying I’m happy because
you’re sad, Man, but maybe our time
has been done & gone, there’s no
reason to be suspicious, minds
just change and so did we.
There’s no going back to the Chisca
for either of us, old buddy.
Signed, Your Friend,
Scotty
GOD SAID TO ABRAHAM KILL ME A SON
faked by gorjus Monday, May 31st, 2010When they were on the
set for the Rock gotta
change that goddam title said
the old carny the makeupman
said Hal his teeth are just fucked,
snaggled like a tiger
& the boy blushed because
they were
so the boss said
just fix it & make sure they look rite.
They used a yard of
Polident to hold
the caps down but didnt count
on the fact that he was a
bluff tornado atomic powered
striptease.
During the big number he
shook it like a
barroom queen & one of those
mighty white hundred dollar
shreds of porcelain
jumped right down his throat
3% royalty be damned.
Shit shit I done swallered it said the boy,
but nobody believed the
joy buzzer king until they got up close &
heard the whistling backbeat to
his breath.
That night at Cedars-Sinai a
drunk & exhausted but
well-respected fortysomething
gently eased the chords aside I mean
slid the cords aside & plucked
the cap from the boy’s lung
just like Butterflies in the Stomach or
Spare Ribs or Charley Horse except
that didnt come until 1965,
thankyou Mr. Spinello.
Girls cried in the lobby & even
the old carny daubed at his brow,
visibly moved.
Good job doc they all said although
for the life of him the
surgeon didn’t know why.
That night he sped home
like always a pint of
Seagram’s in his belly another one
between his thighs easing the Alfa
past 90 past the horizon into
the driveway.
The blonde clinked cubes
into crystal & put needle to Sinatra slid
arms around his neck as he laughed &
said honey you won’t believe
this hillbilly parade today.
May 24-25, 2010.