May 24, 2012

No Songs Tomorrow

In 1983, I went to my mom's liquor cabinet and poured a couple shots from every bottle into a glass jar, and I hid the jar on the top shelf in my closet. After dinner, when Mom was zoning out on Dallas, I would put on Killing Joke’s Fire Dances, drape a red T-shirt over my lamp, and sit with my back up against a pillow, sipping. I had no idea about U.V. Pop. This was before I discovered the Butthole Surfers, before I figured out how to inhale. It’s impossible to say for sure, but I think I would’ve liked it. I was young, and prone to closed mindedness. Yet that’s when I discovered Another Green World. If I’d heard it on one of those nights, I think I would’ve locked in. It’s softer than Killing Joke. There are acoustic guitars, and the beats seem made by machine, not a man in a sleeveless shirt with big sweaty arms. While we listened to side one my wife said “I love this” five times. She didn’t say it once while during No New York. But it’s got an edge to it, and it captures the quality of light of the 80s, that sort of neon and cathode ray, as seen through amber liquid and clear glass.

Go back and live a life you never lived at Sacred Bones.

No comments:

Post a Comment