Between Crosby's mischievous grin, the one that lets you know he's seen behind the curtain, and Nash's bare feet, telling the audience that this guy still loves to let his Freak Flag fly, lives a universe of history.
These two bards have lived the marrow of life and then figured out how to share it with the rest of us. To see the two on stage together, it's not so much a concert as a feeling that you're hanging out in their living room. Together we're celebrating the turbulent rabble-rousing generation that ushered in the cool winds of change and turned sweaty, claustrophobic traditionalism on its head.
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Braindead Monkeys
The Braindead Monkeys - One of the more original mixup / mashup / random clips of audio groups I've run into. Which is more fun, wondering what the heck they're going to throw in my ear or the brilliant prose they're throwing at my eyes.
Here's a sample from their album, Blood Sausage -
Thirteen pack burros gave their lives transporting Chaz's unfathomably large synthesizer to the hallowed burial ground that became our studio, and we all suffered massive headwounds during the third day while making the fight game keymap. We will never be able to hear anything in that frequency range again.
The next six weeks were spent recording Forest of Monkeys. A court order prevents us from discussing the details, but we can say the scar tissue is finally starting to lose that puffy red color.
On the last recording day, we destroyed all of the equipment in a finely tuned blast of pure anger. As each component exploded, we finished another section of Beatings. The shorts you hear during that track are from the blood drying in the compressor.
No thanks to Doris for showing up four weeks late after running off with circus midgets.
Here's a sample from their album, Blood Sausage -
Thirteen pack burros gave their lives transporting Chaz's unfathomably large synthesizer to the hallowed burial ground that became our studio, and we all suffered massive headwounds during the third day while making the fight game keymap. We will never be able to hear anything in that frequency range again.
The next six weeks were spent recording Forest of Monkeys. A court order prevents us from discussing the details, but we can say the scar tissue is finally starting to lose that puffy red color.
On the last recording day, we destroyed all of the equipment in a finely tuned blast of pure anger. As each component exploded, we finished another section of Beatings. The shorts you hear during that track are from the blood drying in the compressor.
No thanks to Doris for showing up four weeks late after running off with circus midgets.
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