“inbetween the liners”
mgmt, 4 letters, 5 minds, 6th sense. second sight? rock’n roll is 50 years old, but we are still speaking in tongues. what would aristotle mke of wop bop a loo bop? a zen mantra for our bam boo times? ‘expect the unexpected’ i heard – as any fools knows, usually impossible. 9 months, the pregnant portion of a year; spent in their company; hasn’t led me to deceive i know mgmt any better than anyone else. no tomes from me or type-tapping critics will reveal that. a 5 part puzzle beyond rubik proportions for you to twist & shout to. never mix stripes and spots we’re told. ha. it’s actually a beautiful clash. h*ll, here comes the paisley & polka-dot too. watcha gonna do about it? love it, of course! congratulations, their second long player is something precious. a gift. to lovers. to others. for sisters. for brothers. to live to. to love to. to look at. to listen thru. nine songs. some short some long. a shy-eyed journey thru the dichotomy of their lives thru their souls. sunday bacon for the monday generation.
it’s working: love? or confusion? reality? contusion? subterranea or sub-fusion. the quest begins.
song for dan treacy: a man. a mistery? a saint? a sod? were we all made for this life? some give, some receive. but dan treacy smiles.
flash delirium: the natives go all dance-hall stomp as something strange in the water forces a flash time strobo-cop emanation of the will. delusion extrusion.
siberian breaks: a pop surf opera, after the storm the loss of ego. breakers on the beach. hangin ten with the hodads. distraction. then sandy smiles as the sun squints its way. a new day. cleansed. ready. surf’s up! p*ss or p*ss the pot.
someone’s missing: but who? and why? just a thought? a feeling? or a moment of doubt lying in wait? to refilling the gateway. the door. consciousness. a lines.
i found a whistle: hope. re*ssurance. the bogey-man triumph of the plastic surf totem. the motion of notions. spells & potions.
brian eno: a smile sent out. a wink and & chuckle. the mistery of time. the air traffic controller of sssound and ssspace and sssubterfuge.
lady dada’s nightmare: the mind falters. questioning. looking for answers. lock-loop images stray into fluorescing cotton candy crimes. impervious. then, the release. a primal scream for the how generation. more dada than gaga. more drinking than thinking. less arty than party. time takes a rain-check.
congratulations: the half-*rs*d hugs of routine celebrations. realisations. random aging. a world in tatters? glitter that matters? the hollow victory. and then sleep.