Viewing blog entries in category: Music - Page 2

  • WT

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  • realitybites
    What's to do when suffering with insomnia? Why, watch Christmas videos on YouTube, of course.

    Growing up, my brother and I's favorite Christmas flick was The Year Without a Santa Claus. This song is a riot... Mr. Snow Miser/Mr. Heat Miser Song ...


    From Santa Claus is Coming to Town... Put One Foot in Front of the Other...


    Another from Santa Claus is Coming to Town... sung by Fred Astaire...


    Another one from SICTT... Buger Meister Meister Burger...


    This one is from the film The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It is my mom's fave holiday film. This is the theme song...

  • realitybites
    Goodbye my loves. You once meant so much to me. I thank each and every single one of you for being there when I needed to listen, connect, learn, engage. I have moved on. You have all been replaced. Technology... innovation... killed off all of you, slowly, one by one.


    Let's have a memorial service.

    First, a poem...

    Nothing Gold Can Stay ~ Robert Frost

    Nature's first green is gold,
    Her hardest hue to hold.
    Her early leaf's a flower;
    But only so an hour.
    Then leaf subsides to leaf.
    So Eden sank to grief,
    So dawn goes down to day.
    Nothing gold can stay.

    And now let's listen to some great music:

    80's New Wave Synthpop Megamix - Blue Silver by Mcfly

  • realitybites
    My print version is on its way. Should have it in a week or so. But in the meantime I am going to start reading it as an eBook on my tablet.

    This is an ongoing post, updated regularly until I finish the book.



    First photos...


    Let the reading begin...

    Good morning. And indeed it is. After reading Moz's book in bed last night, I slept like a baby. Didn't want to put it down. But I knew I had a busy day up ahead.

    This is going to sound cliche, but the book is a page turner. It really is. From page one I was fully engrossed in the text. Morrissey is a wonderful story teller. Nannie, Jackie, and all his family members read like interesting characters in a novel. Moz's imagery is affective and colorful. Bleak, quiet, dirty, desperate Manchester... no wonder Moz found friendship and amusement in small vinyl discs. There was nothing else to do. The city died after dark. Two channels on television. No other electronics to be found. There was music and books. And that's it. His childhood was so different from my own. But because of his ability to describe his experiences so effectively, I am able to empathize with and visualize his early years.

    Moz eloquently and thoroughly reveals why he became a singer and not a guitarist or a pianist. He first fell in love with the words on the page and not the music via Record Song Book... "an expensive magazine that prints the lyrics of famous or bubbling songs of the month, and I practice with invented melodies on the songs that I haven't heard. It is only the singing voice, I decide, that tells us how things became how they are..."

    Can't wait to read more tonight. I want to know what became of Mary once she moved to America. And Nannie. Did she settle nicely into her new home? Poor black cat. We can only hope that Minnie fed it. Alas Morrissey tells us it is highly unlikely.

    Another great morning. Great read last night. Pages 50-1oo reveal a great deal about Moz's early sexual development. If the book ended here, I'd without any doubt conclude that he is in fact gay (not bi). But there are nearly 400 more pages to ingest. So we shall see.

    Hmm. So, Morrissey announces on TTY : "Unfortunately, I am not homosexual. In technical fact, I am humasexual. I am attracted to humans. But, of course... not many."

    Well this really muddies the waters, doesn't it? What's a girl to think now?

    Woke up this morning with this beautiful passage still etched in my mind...

    "The written word is an attempt at completeness when there is no one impatiently awaiting you in a dimly lit bedroom – awaiting your tales of the day, as the healing hands of someone who knew turn to you and touch you, and you lose yourself so completely in another that you are momentarily delivered from yourself. Whispering across the pillow comes a kind voice that might tell you how to get out of certain difficulties, from someone who might mercifully detach you from your complications. When there is no matching of lives, and we live on a strict diet of the self, the most intimate bond can be with the words that we write."

    Last night I learned what became of Mary. Married, kids, frogs galore. But what happened between the years that she arrived in the US and got married? Why did she move there in the first place?

    Jon Daley. Tragedy. So sad. Lots of loss and death in Moz's young life. Could this explain why he has walls erected? Perhaps.

    Name origin...

    "My own name is by now synonymous with the word ‘miserable’ in the press, so Johnny putters with ‘misery’ and playfully arrives at ‘misery mozzery’, which truncates to Moz, and I am classified ever after. I had originally decided to use only my surname because I couldn’t think of anyone else in music that had done so – although, of course, many had been known by just one name, but it hadn’t been their surname. Only classical composers were known by just their surnames, and this suited my mudlark temperament quite nicely."

    I hope he doesn't mind being called Moz. That is how I refer to him 90% of the time.

    Still waiting for my print book to arrive. By the time it gets here, I'll probably be finished with the eBook. I'm almost halfway finished now.

    Yay! My book was in my PO Box this morning. Should I read the print version or keep reading it on my tablet? Hmm... I'll probably do both. I like being able to highlight text then copy it and email it to myself. Keeps me from having to type out my favorite passages. But I do love holding a paperback book. And... it is much easier to flip through the pages.



    I'm halfway through the book. The Smiths dissolve with a whisper...

    "At the close of the Strangeways sessions there took place a glut of meetings with accountants and lawyers at the Wool Hall Studio, and in the context of such, the Smiths breathed a last exhausted sigh, and folded. It happened as quickly and as unemotionally as this sentence took to describe it. No high-octane squabbles, no screams at midnight, no flying furniture, no one dragged head first into the snake-pit, no animated yelps from unused outbuildings (these would, of course, come eight years later, eight years too late, at the Smiths High Court trial). In 1987, at Roland Gardens, Johnny and I stood – he smiling, I not master but servant. Sing me to sleep|I’m tired, and I|I want to go to bed."

    Welcome to America! Love Moz's humorous descriptions of his experiences in the US while touring during is early Solo years. Here are a couple examples...

    "The Smiths and REM had come to light at roughly the same time, and, as a Sire Records executive had remarked, ‘It’s just a question of which of the two will explode in America first.’ As the Smiths choked to death on a chip, the REM rocket accelerated. Michael’s voice is a very cornfed John Denver sound, and in fact his real name is John."

    "I am introduced to ‘the most famous football player in America – who loves you.’
    ‘Does he have a name?’ I ask, but suddenly this jockstrap hunk of studhorse has me in a crushed manful hug, into which I disappear like a pressed flower. Where, I wonder, am I? ‘Oh, I think Morrissey summed it all up perfectly when he said ...’ and at this point prime-time television’s Denis Leary bursts into mock tears – which is of course the punchline, and the loud audience laughter indicates understanding."

    Love Moz's description of his time with Jake. He obviously was very much in love and happy as well.

    This had me in stitches. I guess it all depends on who his biting wit is directed at...

    "Siouxsie chooses Timi Yuro’s Interlude, and she pulls up at Hook End Manor recording studio in a black Mercedes. She is carrying her own microphone and she wants to get on with it minus any familiar chit-chat. In the event, she is a seasoned professional of exact run-throughs and topnotch precision. There is only one crack in the alabaster as she listens to her final take and softly asks me, ‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ It is the solitary moment when the Soviet Statue breathes. One can suddenly imagine real blood in Siouxsie’s veins – and yet, perhaps not."

    I'm about to enter the courtroom...

    Trudging slowly through the court case pages. Just when I think I will be able to come up for air... oh no!

    Love the last hundred pages of the book. Moz is witty and playful. Almost happy, it seems. His description of his relationship with Tina Dehghani shows her to be loyal, considerate, non-demanding, intelligent, and good company. Passionate? Doesn't say. Obviously he can and does love both men AND women. Maybe just a few more men--or many--than women. Is it ever 50/50? Perhaps he desires men more in a physical and emotional, even intellectual sense. But he can clearly also relate to women and establish meaningful connections with them.

    Moz is not a misogynist, as some have suggest. What man does not utter insensitive things every once in a while? Women are not innocent either. The street runs both ways. True misogyny is fueled by dogma and anger. Moz has no script and no rage against femaleness.

    Some of Moz's comments can/may be interpreted as anti-Semitic. But I don't believe Moz harbors any real hate for Jews--or any group for that matter. He just doesn't filter what he says a great deal of the time. This is not always a bad thing. At least he is not vulgar--now that would be criminal.

    I finished the book this afternoon. Enjoyed it very much. Well done Moz. Thanks for sharing your story with us.
  • realitybites
    Want to see me on my knees? Knee boarding, that is? I finally edited an old video file down to a smaller size so that I could upload it onto YouTube. The footage was taken in the late 90s on Lake Odessa in Tampa, Florida. My ex-fiance, Rich, and I rented a house on the lake. We called it the picker shack because it was so old and worn down. We only made our home there because we lived to go boating, tubing, and knee boarding. We were obsessed. Plus it was pretty close to the university I was attending at the time. All the other homes around this private lake were gorgeous, newer, four bedrooms with nice big boat docks. But we loved living there. It was by far the best year of my life.

    Rich had a lot of friends. He was a Florida native and was still friends with all his childhood buddies. Talk about having a real-life social network. Well, they kind of adopted me as one of their own. Though we never seemed to quite mesh. The men were all talented trade workers. The women... girlfriends, mothers, and homemakers. I was a college student with an attitude. We clashed at times, to say the least. But we had some great parties on that lake. I am not exaggerating when I say we had people over at least four times a week. We had cookouts and always took everybody out on the lake to knee board and tube. Rich had just purchased a new boat with a nice Yamaha motor. It cost about $35,000. So it WAS a nice boat.

    Now, this was back in the days when camcorders were all the rage--before one could film with a cell phone. When we went out on the water, we had a driver, a spotter, and a videographer, plus the person(s) being towed by the boat. Every time we went out, we filmed. After many months, I decided to try my hand at making some videos. I literally had to edit the video on the camcorder itself. Then add music by connecting the camcorder to my stereo. How primitive, eh? That is why the video is clunky and almost painful to watch. But hey, it's me. And I cherish that time and am so glad to have video footage of it. And I am happy to share it with anyone who is interested in seeing it.

    The video clip starts off with Rich answering some questions. But the music is dubbed over his voice. Then it cuts to me... I am modelling my new hairstyle. I just had highlights put in. As you can see, I am smoking. I am Not proud of that. Have not had a cigarette since 2000. I am also holding a beer. Typical me. I was a college student. The song continues throughout the whole video--R.E.M.'s Crush With Eyeliner. Next we see me knee boarding. I was pretty darn good, I must say. Then Rich and I battle it out on our tubes. The goal was to try to knock the other person off their tube. A skilled driver could make tubing a blast. Donuts were a sure-fire way to get someone off a tube. I LOVED to drive the boat and was the only person that Rich let drive it. I am not kidding. That he trusted me, made me feel pretty special. That others trusted me as well, made me feel like superwoman. We also owned Yamaha dirt bikes and used to ride together. I was--still am--a bit of as Tomboy. Anyhow, wrecking looks painful, but it wasn't. In all that time, not a single person was injured.

    Though Rich and I called off the marriage, we are still in touch via Facebook. He still lives in Florida and takes his boat (not the same one) out as much as he can.

    Dang was I tan and in great shape. I am thinner these days... not as muscular.

    Video won't embed. Watch on YouTube...

    She's a Sad Tomato
  • realitybites
    Oh yeah...

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    Mardy Bum
  • realitybites
    This has been a re-commitment ceremony of sorts... this active listening and lyrics posting. In these last two weeks, I have listened to well over 200 Morrissey songs. My journey is now complete. So, what effect has it had upon my fandom, a friend recently asked? Well... I am going to give it a few days to marinate. And then I will let you know. Next Thursday, the 29th, I am going to see Morrissey 25: Live in Sedona. I plan to blog about my experience. Perhaps I will address the fandom question then.

    In reverse order, Smiths' last album to Morrissey's latest...

    Part II is albums The Queen is Dead - Strangeways, Here We Come. Smiths Part I. Moz albums Part I, Part II.


    The Queen is Dead ~ August 21, 2013

    Frankly Mr. Shankly

    Fame, Fame, fatal Fame
    It can play hideous tricks on the brain

    I know It's Over

    A hauntingly beautiful song.

    It's so easy to laugh
    It's so easy to hate
    It takes strength to be gentle and kind
    Over, over, over, over

    Cemetry Gates

    One of my favorite Smiths songs. Clever, witty, and fun... a happy song?

    A dreaded sunny day
    So I meet you at the cemetry gates
    Keats and Yeats are on your side
    While Wilde is on mine

    If you must write prose/poems
    The words you use should be your own
    Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"

    Bigmouth Strikes Again

    Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking
    When I said I'd like to smash every tooth
    In your head

    Bigmouth strikes again
    And I've got no right to take my place
    With the Human race

    The Boy With a Horn in His Side

    Love this song... especially the yodeling.

    The boy with the thorn in his side
    Behind the hatred there lies
    A murderous desire for love

    There is a Light That Never Goes Out

    One of the greatest love songs ever recorded.

    And if a double-decker bus
    Crashes into us
    To die by your side
    Is such a heavenly way to die
    And if a ten-ton truck
    Kills the both of us
    To die by your side
    Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

    And in the darkened underpass
    I thought Oh God, my chance has come at last
    (But then a strange fear gripped me and I
    Just couldn't ask)


    I'm not sure what happiness means
    But I look in your eyes
    And I know that it isn't there

    So how can you call this a home
    When you know it's a grave?

    No heavenly choir
    Not for me and not for you

    The World Won't Listen
    ~ August 21, 2013


    If I showed you the video footage I took of me singing and dancing to this back in 2000, you'd kill yourself laughing.

    Burn down the disco
    Hang the blessed DJ
    Because the music that they constantly play

    On the Leeds side-streets that you slip down
    Provincial towns you jog 'round
    Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ


    One of my favorites. Playful. Fun.

    Shyness is nice and
    Shyness can stop you
    From doing all the things in life
    You'd like to

    Spending warm Summer days indoors
    Writing frightening verse
    To a buck toothed girl in Luxembourg

    Ask me, ask me, ask me

    Because if it's not Love
    Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
    the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
    That will bring us together

    Nature is a language - can't you read ?

    Shoplifters of the World

    Learn to love me
    Assemble the ways
    Now, today, tomorrow and always
    My only weakness is a list of crime
    My only weakness is ... well, never mind, never mind


    I want you to know
    Deep in the cell of my heart
    I will feel so glad to go


    Another personal favorite.

    I know I'm unlovable
    You don't have to tell me
    I don't have much in my life
    But take it - it's yours

    I wear Black on the outside
    'Cause Black is how I feel on the inside

    And if I seem a little strange
    Well, that's because I am

    But I know that you would like me
    If only you could see me
    If only you could meet me

    Half A Person

    Call me morbid, call me pale
    Do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?"

    Sixteen, clumsy and shy
    The story of my life

    Rubber Ring

    A sad fact widely known
    The most impassionate song
    To a lonely soul
    Is so easily outgrown

    But don't forget the songs
    That made you smile
    And the songs that made you cry

    The passing of time
    And all of its crimes
    Is making me sad again

    Yes, you're older now
    And you're a clever swine
    But they were the only ones
    Who ever stood by you

    The passing of time
    Leaves empty lives
    Waiting to be filled

    And when you're dancing and laughing
    And finally living
    Hear my voice in your head
    And think of me kindly

    You're clever
    Everybody's clever nowadays

    You are sleeping
    You do not want to believe

    Louder Than Bombs ~ August 21, 2013

    Sheila Take a Bow

    How can someone so young
    Sing words so sad?

    Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear

    Throw your homework onto the fire

    Stretch Out and Wait

    My second favorite Smiths song.

    Nature must still find a way
    So ignore all the codes of the day
    Let your juvenile impulses sway

    God, how sex implores you
    To let yourself lose yourself

    Stretch out and wait
    Let your puny body, lie down, lie down
    As we lie, you say

    Will the world end in the night time?
    (I really don't know)
    Or will the world end in the day time?
    (I really don't know)

    Stretch out and wait
    There is no debate, no debate, no debate
    How can you consciously contemplate
    When there's no debate, no debate?
    Stretch out and wait

    Strangeways, Here We Come ~ August 22, 2013

    My favorite Smiths album. The first one I owned.

    A Rush and a Push and the Land is Ours

    They said :
    "There's too much caffeine
    In your bloodstream
    And a lack of real spice
    In your life"

    I Started Something Something I Couldn't Finish

    I doused our friendly venture
    With a hard-faced, three-word gesture

    Hair brushed and parted typical me, typical me, typical me
    I started something and now I'm not too sure

    Death of a Disco Dancer

    Love, peace and harmony?
    Very nice
    But maybe in the next world

    Girlfriend in a Coma

    There were times when I could
    Have "murdered" her
    (But you know, I would hate
    Anything to happen to her)

    Let me whisper my last goodbyes

    I know - IT'S SERIOUS

    Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before

    I love Moz's lyrical narratives. This is a great one...

    Nothing's changed
    I still love you, oh, I still love you
    ...Only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love

    I was delayed, I was way-laid
    An emergency stop
    I smelt the last ten seconds of life
    I crashed down on the crossbar
    And the pain was enough to make
    A shy, bald, Buddhist reflect
    And plan a mass murder
    Who said lied I'd to her ?

    I was detained, I was restrained
    And broke my spleen
    And broke my knee
    (and then he really laced into me)
    Friday night in Out-patients

    Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

    Last night I dreamt
    That somebody loved me
    No hope, no harm
    Just another false alarm

    Unhappy Birthday

    I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday
    'Cause you're evil and you lie and if you should die
    I may feel slightly sad but I won't cry

    From the one you left behind

    Paint a Vulgar Picture

    The sycophantic slags all say :
    "I knew him first, and I knew him well"

    Re-issue! Re-package! Re-package!
    Re-evaluate the songs

    What makes most people feel happy
    Leads us headlong into harm

    I Won't Share You

    Probably a song that every single person who ever walked the planet can relate to. Simply beautful.

    The note I wrote
    As she read, she said
    "Has the Perrier gone
    Straight to my head
    Or is life sick and cruel, instead ?"

    Life tends to come and go
    That's OK
    As long as you know

    I won't share you
    I'll see you somewhere
    I'll see you sometime

    I Keep Mine Hidden

    I keep mine hidden
    But it's so easy for you
    Because you let yours flail
    Into public view
  • realitybites
    I love twisted things... things that are dark and dramatic and depressing yet humorous as well. When it comes to music, nobody, I mean NOBODY, writes depressing lyrics that are so belly-laughing funny, like Morrissey does. This is his greatest charm... attraction... what makes me love his music so much.

    I will listen to each Smiths album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles, and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day.

    Moz solo albums Part I, Part II

    I will listen to the Smiths albums in chronological order. (Moz ones were listened to in reverse chronological order.)

    Part I is The Smiths - Meat is Murder. Part II is The Queen is Dead - Strangeways, Here We Come.

    This is going to be fun, as I absolutely adore every Smiths song. I really do. A strange misconception about Moz's lyrics, embraced by those who are not in the know, is that they make one feel depressed. Just the opposite. They make me feel happy. The humor, the irony, the tongue-in cheek witty lines, informs the listener that Moz is aware that all his self-depredation, complaining, and whining, is absurd. He's laughing at himself and all of life's complexities, and wants us to laugh with him, at him, and at ourselves as well. It's one big pity party and we are all participants. And because we are in on the joke, this makes us feel special and important and clever. And different, in a good way.


    The Smiths ~ August 19, 2013

    Reel Around the Fountain

    This hypersexual song has some of my favorite lyrics...

    Slap me on the patio
    I'll take it now

    Fifteen minutes with you
    Well, I wouldn't say no
    Oh, people said that you were virtually dead
    And they were so wrong

    Oh, people said that you were easily led
    And they were half-right

    I dreamt about you last night
    And I fell out of bed twice
    You can pin and mount me like a butterfly

    You've Got Everything Now

    No, I've never had a job
    Because I've never wanted one

    You are your mother's only son
    And you're a desperate one
    Oh ...

    But I don't want a lover
    I just want to be seen ... oh ... in the back of your car

    Miserable Lie

    So, goodbye
    Please stay with your own kind
    And I'll stay with mine

    There's something against us
    It's not time

    I look at yours, you laugh at mine
    And "love" is just a miserable lie

    And in that voice...

    I need advice, I need advice
    I need advice, I need advice
    Nobody ever looks at me twice
    Nobody ever looks at me twice

    Pretty Girls Make Graves

    "There is a quick and easy way" you say
    Before you illustrate
    I'd rather state:
    "I'm not the man you think I am
    I'm not the man you think I am"

    I could have been wild and I could have
    Been free
    But Nature played this trick on me

    She wants it Now
    And she will not wait
    But she's too rough
    And I'm too delicate

    Then, on the sand
    Another man, he takes her hand
    A smile lights up her stupid face
    (and well, it would)

    I lost my faith in Womanhood

    This Charming Man

    A punctured bicycle
    On a hillside desolate
    Will nature make a man of me yet?

    Why pamper life's complexity
    When the leather runs smooth
    On the passenger seat

    I would go out tonight
    But I haven't got a stitch to wear

    Still Ill

    I decree today that life
    Is simply taking and not giving
    England is mine - it owes me a living

    Does the body rule the mind
    Or does the mind rule the body?
    I don´t know...

    And if you must, go to work - tomorrow
    Well, if I were you I wouldn't bother
    For there are brighter sides to life
    And I should know, because I've seen them
    But not very often ...

    Hand in Glove

    And if the people stare
    Then the people stare
    Oh, I really don't know

    Yes, we may be hidden by rags
    But we've something they'll never have

    For the good life is out there somewhere
    So stay on my arm, you little charmer

    What Difference Does It Make?

    The devil will find work for idle hands to do
    But now you make me feel so ashamed
    Because I've only got two hands
    Well, I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh

    But now you have gone
    And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight

    Hatful of Hollow ~ August 20, 2013

    William it Was Really Nothing

    Oh, the rain falls hard on a humdrum town
    This town has dragged you down

    I don't dream about anyone - except myself !

    These Things Take Time

    And I know that I'm
    The most inept
    That ever stepped

    How Soon is Now?

    I am the son and the heir
    Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
    I am the son and heir
    Of the nothing in particular

    So you go and you stand on your own
    And you leave on your own
    And you go home
    And you cry and you want to die

    Handsome Devil

    There's more to life than books, you know
    But not much more

    Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

    One of my fave Smiths songs. The whole song is hilarious.

    I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
    But heaven knows I'm miserable now

    I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
    And heaven knows I'm miserable now

    In my life
    Why do I give valuable time
    To people who don't care if I live or die?

    Two lovers entwined pass me by
    And heaven knows I'm miserable now

    In my life
    Why do I smile
    At people who I'd much rather kick in the eye?

    This Night Has Opened My Eyes

    One of the Smiths more somber songs, both lyrically and musically.

    She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool

    Accept Yourself

    Others conquered love - but I ran
    I sat in my room and I drew up a plan
    But plans can fall through as so often they do
    And time is against me now

    Girl Afraid

    Boy afraid
    Prudence never pays

    Meat is Murder ~ August 20, 2013

    This album is a masterpiece, to say the least.

    The Headmaster Ritual

    Absolutely adore this song. That yodeling is priceless. The lyrics are the epitome of dark humor at its finest.

    Belligerent ghouls
    Run Manchester schools

    Spineless swines
    Cemented minds

    Sir leads the troops
    Jealous of youth
    Same old suit since 1962

    He does the military two-step
    Down the nape of my neck

    I wanna go home
    I don't wanna stay
    Give up education
    As a bad mistake

    Mid-week on the playing fields
    Sir thwacks you on the knees

    Knees you in the groin
    Elbow in the face
    Bruises bigger than dinner plates

    He does the military two-step
    Down the nape of my neck

    Rusholme Ruffians

    I might walk home alone...
    ...But my faith in love is still devout

    From a seat on a whirling waltzer
    Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
    It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)

    So...scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
    (This means you really love me)

    I Want the One I Can't Have

    On the day that your mentality
    Decides to try to catch up with your biology

    Cause I want the one I can't have
    And it's driving me mad

    And if you ever need self-validation
    Just meet me in the alley by the
    Railway station

    What She said

    What she said :
    "How come someone hasn't noticed
    That I'm dead
    And decided to bury me?

    What she said was sad
    But then, all the rejection she's had
    To pretend to be happy
    Could only be idiocy

    What she read
    All heady books
    She'd sit and prophesise
    (It took a tattooed boy from
    To really really open her eyes)

    What she said :
    "I smoke 'cos I'm hoping for an
    Early death

    That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

    Time's tide will smother you

    It's too close to home
    And it's too near the bone

    Nowhere Fast

    I'd like to drop my trousers to the world
    I am a man of means (of slender means)
    Each household appliance
    Is like a new science in my town

    I'd like to drop my trousers to the Queen
    Every sensible child will know what this means

    And when I'm lying in my bed
    I think about life
    And I think about death
    And neither one particularly appeals to me

    Well I Wonder

    My favorite Smiths song.

    Well I wonder
    Do you hear me when you sleep?
    I hoarsely cry
    Why ...

    Well I wonder
    Do you see me when we pass?
    I half die ...
    Why ...

    Gasping - dying - but somehow still alive
    This is the final stand of all I am

    Please keep me in mind

    Well I wonder

    Barbarism Begins at Home

    Unruly girls
    Who will not settle down
    They must be taken in hand

    A crack on the head
    Is what you get for not asking
    Quando quando quando likes this.
  • realitybites
    This is Part II. Albums Southpaw Grammar - Viva Hate. See Part I here.

    I will listen to each album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles (and other tracks released, sung around that time), and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day.


    Southpaw Grammar (2009 Expanded Edition) ~ August 16, 2013

    Reader Meet Author

    Oh, have you ever escaped from a shipwrecked life ?

    Best Friend on the Payroll

    I turn the music down
    And I don't know why
    This is my house

    The best friend on the payroll
    No, no, no, it's not gonna work out
    It's not gonna work out
    No, no, no, no

    Fantastic Bird

    What brings you down to earth?
    Ah yes, of course, yes, yes, it was a lack of applause

    Nobody Loves Us

    Sing us our
    Favourite song
    Nobody loves us
    Born-again athiests
    Practising troublemakers
    Make us our
    Favourite jam

    Vauxhall and I ~ August 17, 2013

    This album is a masterpiece from start to finish both lyrically and musically.

    Now My Heart is Full

    One of my favorite Solo songs.

    Tell all of my friends
    I don't have too many
    Just some rain-coated lovers'
    Puny brothers

    Loafing oafs in all-night chemists
    Underact - express depression

    Hold Onto Your Friends

    Why waste good time
    Fighting the people you like
    Who will fall defending your name
    Oh, don't feel so ashamed
    To have friends

    The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get

    I am now
    A central part
    Of your mind's landscape
    Whether you care
    Or do not
    Yeah, I've made up your mind

    The more you ignore me
    The closer I get

    When you sleep
    I will creep
    Into your thoughts
    Like a bad debt
    That you can't pay
    Take the easy way
    And give in
    Yeah, and let me in


    I've always been true to you
    In my own strange way
    I've always been true to you
    In my own sick way

    Your Arsenal ~ August 18, 2013

    The album kicks off with a great start... a little foreshadowing of what lies ahead. Love this whole album, start to finish.

    You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side

    And here I am
    And here I am
    Oh, well, you don't need
    To look so pleased!

    We'll Let You Know

    We'll let you know
    We'll let you know
    Oh, but only if - you're really interested

    Certain People I know

    I trust the views of
    Certain people I know
    They look at danger
    And they
    Laugh their heads off

    We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful

    If we can hurt them
    Well, we may as well...
    It's really laughable
    Ha, ha, ha...

    Seasick Yet Still Docked

    And you can tell I have never really loved
    You can tell, by the way, I sleep all day

    My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye
    You must be such a fool to pass me by


    Tomorrow, it's surely nearer now
    You don't think I'll make it
    I never said, I wanted to
    Well did I?

    Kill Uncle ~ August 19, 2013

    Our Frank

    Won't somebody stop me
    From thinking
    From thinking all the time
    About everything
    Oh, somebody
    From thinking all the time
    So deeply, so bleakly?
    So bleakly all the time
    About everything? (Who I am, how I ever got here)

    The Harsh Truth of the Camera Eye

    Showing what
    You didn't want shown

    This photographer
    He must have really had it in for you

    Bona Drag ~ August 20, 2013

    Great compilation album. Moz's solo equivalent to Louder Than Bombs?

    November Spawned a Monster

    A symbol of where mad, mad lovers
    Must PAUSE and draw the line

    Will Never Marry

    Probably the Moz song I relate to most. So beautiful.

    I'm writing this to say
    In a gentle way
    Thank you, but no

    Such a Little Thing Makes Such A Big Difference

    Such a little thing
    A gentle tone of kindness
    Or written words on paper
    - can you write ?

    Last of the International Playboys

    I never wanted to kill
    I am not naturally evil
    Such things I do
    Just to make myself
    More attractive to you
    Have I failed ?

    Yes I Am Blind

    Good Christians, they wanna kill you
    And your life has not even begun


    Young girl, one day you will be old
    But the thing is I love you now

    This is the last song I will ever sing
    No, I've changed my mind again

    Viva Hate (US) ~ August 20, 2013

    Everyday is Like Sunday

    Cold War nostalgia anyone? Adore this song.

    Trudging slowly over wet sand
    Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen

    Hide on the promenade
    Etch a postcard :
    "how I dearly wish I was not here"

    Trudging back over pebbles and sand
    And a strange dust lands on your hands
    (and on your face...)

    Late Night, Maudlin Street

    Where the world's ugliest boy
    Became what you see
    Here I am - the ugliest man

    So he drove me home in the van
    Complaining, "women only like me for my mind..."

    But you ... without clothes
    Oh, I could not keep a straight face
    Me - without clothes ?
    Well, a nation turns it's back and gags...
    I'm packed

    With "every hand waves me on"
    (secretly wishing me gone)


    You had to sneak into my room
    'just' to read my diary
    "It was just to see, just to see"
    (All the things you knew I'd written about you...)
    Oh, so many illustrations
    Oh, but
    I'm so very sickened
    Oh, I am so sickened now

    Oh, it was a good lay, good lay
    It was a good lay, good lay

    Hairdresser on Fire

    You are repressed
    But you're remarkably dressed

    I Don't Mind if You Forget Me

    Your mild 'best wishes'
    They make me suspicious

    Rejection is one thing
    But rejection from a fool
    Is cruel

    Dial - a - Cliché

    And you find that you've organised
    Your feelings, for people
    Who didn't like you then
    And do not like you now

    Margaret on the Guillotine

    The kind people
    Have a wonderful dream
    Margaret on the guillotine
  • realitybites
    I love twisted things... things that are dark and dramatic and depressing yet humorous as well. My favorite film director, Pedro Almodóvar, is a master at incorporating all these elements into his film masterpieces. When it comes to music, nobody, I mean NOBODY, writes depressing lyrics that are so belly-laughing funny, like Morrissey does. This is his greatest charm... attraction... what makes me love his music so much.

    Was just listening to Years of Refusal... and a few stood out. I really was belly laughing while listening. I'll start with that album. Then work my way through all the solo and Smiths albums... in reverse chronological order. I will listen to each album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles (and other tracks released, sung around that time), and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day. So much culture to absorb... and comment on, so little time.

    Once I finish his solo albums, I will listen to the Smiths ones.

    Due to a limit on text length for each blog entry, my Solo albums will have to be divided in two separate entries.

    Part I is Years of Refusal - Maladjusted. Part II is Southpaw Grammar - Viva Hate.


    Years of Refusal ~ August 12, 2013

    Have not listened to this album in a while. Really enjoyed it. It is getting better with time. Some of the music arrangements are very nice and original. I particularly like the Spanish guitar in When Last I Spoke to Carol.

    It's Not Your Birthday Anymore

    All the gifts that they gave can't compare in any way
    To the love I am now giving to you
    Right here right now on the floor

    I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris

    In the absence of your love
    And in the absence of human touch
    I have decided

    I'm throwing my arms around
    Around Paris because
    Only stone and steel accept my love

    Ringleader of the Tormentors ~ August 12, 2013

    There is a lot of self-deprecating humor on this album. But you can't just read the lyrics to capture it. The songs must be heard. It's the WAY he sings the words.

    You Have Killed Me

    You have killed me, you have killed me
    Yes, I walk around somehow

    The Youngest Was the Most Loved

    Moz and kids singing...

    There is no such thing in life as normal
    There is no such thing in life as normal

    Life is a Pigsty

    Even now in the final hour of my life
    I’m falling in love again

    On the Streets I Ran

    Take anyone
    Take people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
    Just spare me!

    To Me You Are a Work of Art

    To me you are a work of art
    And I would give you my heart
    That’s if I had one

    At Last I Am Born

    But now I just sit back and yawn
    Because I am born, born, born

    You Are the Quarry ~ August 13, 2013

    My favorite solo album. There is one song that, although quite beautifully sung with gorgeous music, has lyrics which make me cringe just a little. Can you guess which one? Quarry is not as tongue- in-cheek as some of Moz's other albums. It is more serious, it seems. Yet there are a few humorous gems to be found.

    Come Back to Camden

    Maybe not so much funny, but clever indeed. These careful lyrics remind the listener that there is a witty man with a wonderful sense of humor behind them.

    Drinking tea with the taste of the Thames
    Sullenly on a chair on the pavement

    How Could Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel

    This one is fully loaded...

    She told me she loved me
    Which means she must be insane

    They said they respect me
    Which means their judgment is crazy

    He said he wants to befriend me
    Which means he can't possibly know me

    Even I, as sick as I am, I would never be you
    Even I, sick and depraved, a traveler to the grave
    I would never be you
    I would never be you

    First of the Gang to Die

    And you have never been in love
    Until you've seen the dawn rise
    Behind the home for the blind

    You have never been in love
    Until you've seen the sunlight thrown
    Over smashed human bones

    Let Me Kiss You

    So, close your eyes
    And think of someone you physically admire
    And let me kiss you, oh

    But then you open your eyes
    And you see someone that you physically despise
    But my heart is open
    My heart is open to you

    I Like You

    No one I ever knew
    Or have spoken to resembles you
    This is good or bad
    All depending on my general mood

    You're not right in the head,
    and nor am I, and this is why

    This is why I like you, I like you, I like you
    This is why I like you, I like you, I like you

    You Know I couldn't Last

    The teenagers
    Who love you
    They will wake up, yawn and kill you

    It's Hard to Walk Tall When You're Small

    I attack from the back
    Because it's easy
    And I can assail
    While wearing very nice jewelry

    I burst into
    Public baths
    And I throw my weight around
    And no one can even see me
    No one can even see me

    My Early Burglary Years ~ August 14, 2013

    Sister I'm a Poet

    Outside the prison gates
    I love the romance of crime

    Girl Least Likely To

    And there's enough gloom in her world, I'm certain
    Without my contribution

    Jack the Ripper

    One of my all time fave Moz songs... still.

    Your face is as mean
    As your life has been

    Crash into my arms
    You don't agree
    But you don't refuse

    Suedehead: The Best of Morrissey ~ August 15, 2013

    Pregnant For the Last Time

    This song is a riot. Love it. Packed with hilarious lines.

    Phlegm lapels for the last time
    Corn beef legs for the last time

    Chips with cream for the last time
    The People's Friend for the last time

    Tiny striped socks for the last time
    Pokes and prods for the last time

    But then you see someone new
    And you want someone new
    So you have someone new
    I don't blame you
    We would all do the same as you
    If ever we had the chance to

    Bad advice for the last time
    And people being nice for the very first time
    Oh, we're so glad

    Maladjusted (2009 remaster) ~ August 15, 2013

    The additions of I Can Have Both and I Am a Was strengthen this album considerably.


    When the gulf between
    All the things I need
    And the things I receive
    Is an ancient ocean
    Wide, wild, lost, uncrossed

    Trouble Loves Me

    Ready with ready-wit
    Still running 'round
    On the flesh rampage
    - At your age !

    Then at midnight I
    Can't get you out of my head
    A disenchanted taste
    Still running 'round

    He Cried

    People where I come from
    They survive without feelings or blood
    I never could
    Was stoned to death
    But I'm still living

    Wide to Receive

    The way Moz sings wide again and again in a sullen moaning voice is priceless. Makes this song a real gem.

    I'm lying here
    Wide to receive
    Almost anything
    You'd care to leave
    Wide, wide, wide

    I Can Have Both

    I can have both
    There's nobody around to say no
    Who've brain-washed the small shy boy inside
    He doesn't know he can have both

    Now I Am a Was

    Once I was so smugly
    Foremost in your thoughts
    Me - with a talent for
    Making you cry

    So, now I am a was
    Now I am a was

    Satan Rejected My Soul

    The happy music that accompanies the lyrics is what makes this song so twisted. The way Moz sings come on, come on, makes this otherwise serious song, rather playful.

    All the fun in life it's cost me
    Satan rejected my soul
    As low as he goes
    He never quite goes this low

    Come on, come on, ah
    Come on, come on, come on

    Sorrow Will Come in the End

    The sound of a cracking whip in between the words lawyer and liar... dark, humorous... perfect.

    Lawyer ...liar
    Lawyer ...liar
  • realitybites
    You do not want to believe.
    You are sleeping.

    Not any longer. Looking back on that salient year, 2004, has reignited a passion... a passion for accepting the truth. The truth that, as much as I have denied the fact or teased others about it, Morrissey's music has indeed saved my life. Maybe not literally. His songs have never loosened the noose, compelled me to drop the blade, or uncock the pistol. But figuratively they have. During my darkest hours, he has made me feel connected, understood, not so lonely.

    I have always claimed that I don't need anyone's approval. But honestly, this is not entirely true. What IS true is that I don't seek approval for things which I do not value... traits, qualities that are not important to my identity or self-esteem. But I do want to be cherished, loved, and admired for the things I do care about.

    Morrissey's lyrics make me feel understood, accepted. Like I am not the only weirdo in the universe. If this gorgeous, brilliant man feels this way too, then, well, I am not so alone. No other, I mean no one--poet or lyricist, has had this impact on me. Not even close. Not Tom Smith, Eddie Vedder, Michael Stipe, Nick Drake, or even Robert Smith.

    The passing of time
    Leaves empty lives
    Waiting to be filled...

    More, more, more! So easily our cups run dry. Why do we need constant updates... reminders of how great Morrissey's music is? Is the back catalog not enough? The fans are like drug addicts... always looking for the next fix... the next great, new song, or great performance. What if it never happens again? What if Morrissey will never write another song? Or grace a stage again? Well, being that he thrives of performing live in front of an audience, this would be sad. But for HIM... not ME. I am okay with the back catalog. I really am.

    And when you're dancing and laughing
    And finally living
    Hear my voice in your head
    And think of me kindly

    I am in a better place today than I was in 2004 when Moz's music was the soundtrack in my head. Playing, soothing, reassuring.

    I will always have his songs. I could die a happy woman, if I only had ten of them to hear for the rest of my life. And, even if I could not see him sing them again--live or on video. The sound of his voice, and the lyrics, alone, would really be enough. They really would.

    The passing of time
    And all of its sickening crimes...

    Morrissey is aging. Last time I looked in the mirror I decided I was too. It is a sad reality for every human that has ever lived. Morrissey may have serious health problems now or in the near future. Christopher Hitchens died six months after being diagnosed with esophageal cancer. The medical significance of Barrett's esophagus is its strong association with esophageal adenocarcinoma, a particularly lethal cancer. You know where I am going with that.

    I don't want to lose another important artist again (I cringe using the term, hero.) I do hope Moz's health returns. It is greedy and selfish to expect him to produce more... hasn't he given me enough?

    Though, I have to admit there is nothing more I'd like to read than his autobiography. The TIME is perfect for him to finish writing it... and share it with the rest of us. Hitchens penned and published his, Hitch-22, just a year before his death. Not saying... but still. I don't want him to lose an opportunity to share himself with us. That is, if that is what he wants to do. Life is short... for all of us.

    The truth is, Morrissey, nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you... and not even slightly less than I used to.

    Here is a little song, to remind myself, in case I were to ever forget, again...

    Rubber Ring

    For M. x
  • realitybites
    Prose for a change...

    A thought... my writing style has changed over the years. Right now I am over-using ellipses. A few years back I was into the em-dash. Before that, I used semicolons excessively. Now I hate them and rarely use them at all. I think they should be rendered obsolete like the penny.

    Another thought... I have been spending too much time on Solo these last two weeks. I have had too much free time on my hands and have wasted it arguing with people that mean nothing to me, to be honest. The people I know who love and care about me--and likewise--would be appalled if they witnessed my behavior as of late. Or would they? I know they'd say, you're smarter than that. And I'd tell them, you just don't understand. And it would be true. They would not understand. Just like the majority of posters here can't understand why some of us seem to move in clouds of drama. Maybe there is something thrilling, challenging to debate... even pointless, circular debate. I don't know. What I do know is that I feel worn out by it. Uneasy. And it is not making me feel good about myself. I have been here before. You'd think I'd have learned from past mistakes. How easily we forget.

    Last thought... Back in 2005, when moving from Ohio to Arizona, I had to throw away and donate lots of stuff. I was already taking way too much to my new location. I had to get rid of anything that wasn't absolutely needed, or didn't have great sentimental or monetary value. So... and this seems almost blasphemous and embarrassing to admit now, in retrospect... I tossed a large case of cassette tapes into the bin. It contained hundreds of tapes--my entire collection spanning from the mid-eighties until that present time. I think my oldest one was Standing on a Beach by The Cure. That cassette had gone everywhere with me... to Europe and back... to Israel.. to the beach... and survived--sand infiltration and all. And I must have played it hundreds upon hundreds of times. I miss it, now, to be honest. And feeling a little regretful... that I threw away cassettes that others still value... and actually collect. One comes to mind: Louder Than Bombs. Yes, I know... the horror... can you believe I threw it away without blinking? I owned it on CD, and felt at the time, it was redundant to also have it on cassette. My new car did not have a cassette player, so when would I ever get a chance to play it? The utility of it had been lost.

    We can't change the past. We can only reflect upon it and hopefully learn from our mistakes and continue to grow as persons. But sometimes we backslide. It is inevitable, it seems. I guess all we can do is brush off the dirt and continue to step forward.
  • realitybites

    Pure Morning - Placebo

    A friend in need's a friend indeed
    A friend with weed is better
    A friend with breasts and all the rest
    A friend who's dressed in leather


    Placebo sound best on an iPod w/ high-quality ear buds...

    [​IMG] [​IMG]

    Or listen to these great tracks on YouTube...

    Bitter End
    Twenty Years
    Every You, Every Me
    This Picture
    You Don't Care About Us
    Running up that Hill
    Special Needs
    Bigmouth Strikes Again
    Nancy Boy
    Song to Say Goodbye to
    Where is My Mind?
    Slave to the Wage
    Taste in Men
    Special K
    Ashtray Heart
    Without You I'm Nothing
    Broken Promises
    Johnny and Mary
    My Sweet Prince
    Passive Aggressive
    Burger Queen
    Sleeping With Ghosts

    Bizarre Festival Germany 2000

    Interview on 4Music (2006):

    Part I
    Part II

    NME Blog: Why I'm Still a Proud Placebo Fan
  • realitybites

    Best 2012 releases:

    Take This Waltz
    Side by Side
    Game Change
    Zero Dark Thirty
    The Hunger Games
    Silver Linings Playbook
    Pitch Perfect (for fun factor)

    Best non-2012 films:

    8 ½
    Gates of Heaven
    2001 Space Odyssey
    My Dinner With Andre
    Some Like It Hot
    The Apartment
    This is Not a Film
    La Dolce Vita
    Bonnie and Clyde



    The Magic of Reality
    Poorly Made in China: An Insider's Account of the China Production Game
    One Day
    Steve Jobs
    Hunting Eichmann
    Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story
    Auschwitz: A Doctor's Eyewitness Account


    Fave artist discoveries:

    The Courteeners
    Chapel Club
    Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
    The Sisters of Mercy
    The National
    This Mortal Coil

    Most listened to artists (non-new):

    New Order
    Joy Division
    The Smiths/Moz
    The Cure
    The Horrors
    Pearl Jam/Eddie Vedder
    Depeche Mode
    The Drums

    Fave websites this year:




    Charlie Rose


    New shows:

    The Layover
    Million Dollar Decorators

    Non-new shows:

    The Big Bang Theory
    Two and a Half Men
    Mad Men
    Downton Abbey
    The Good Wife
    No Reservations
    Gossip Girl

    Guilty pleasures:

    Flipping Out
    The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills
    The Real Housewives of Orange County
    Top Chef
    Interior Therapy
    Project Runway


    Slate's Movie Spoilers

    Slate's Cultural Gabfest
  • realitybites
    Michael Stipe & Morrissey


    [​IMG] [​IMG]

    With Quiff

    [​IMG] [​IMG]

    Animal Magnetism

    [​IMG] [​IMG]