87 posts shown.
Dana Anderson4 said:What do you all think about that iconic scene in "Sony"—you know, the one from both the book and the movie—where Jack Black blasts "The Bangles" to absolutely wreck the Monday morning vibe in that convenience store?
I believe they were actually the first to break through somewhere in the early eighties—if I recall correctly.😂 🙂
They hit their peak in the mid-nineties—which is kind of wild when you consider that "Walking on Sunshine" was already about ten or fifteen years old by then. I’ve always struggled to wrap my head around why Kimberley Rew decided to take such a desperate leap at a moment when it seemed pretty obvious to everyone involved that the band had run its course. That being said—and please, let's not go too hard on Rew here—he actually has some serious pedigree. He spent time in the Soft Boys alongside Robyn Hitchcock, for heaven's sake, and if you ever want to hear his real talent, his 2002 Great Central Revisited album is easily one of the best records released in the last five years.
Honestly, I don't think Budweiser even falls under the rock'n'roll umbrella, let alone punk.
My site features bands like these on a regular basis:
http://www.littlelighthouse.net/. It feels like rock'n'roll isn't just surviving—it’s actually more vibrant now than it has been in at least the last decade. If you want some starting points, you should really check out The Killers, The Avett Brothers, The Fever, Akiba, The Stooges, Ipanema, Holly Golightly, The Replacements, Southside, Fiery Furnaces, Kropotkin, The Joneses, Califone, and Modey Lemon—and honestly, that's just the tip of the iceberg...
Benjamin Gray66 said:Honestly, I can’t recall any of them—it's just how my memory works, I guess.
The only one that really sticks in my mind is the winner from 1984—that 18-year-old German woman with her guitar playing ABBA songs, and that's pretty much it...
Oh, and Riva, of course...
Wait, wasn't it Sandra who!??
Well, then it really is just Walter Scott.
Here it is:
Hasanaginica
What is that distant, brilliant glimmer shining against the mountain peak?
Does that light still shimmer so bright where the sycamores grow?
Is it wild swans circling around the fountain at Central Park?
Or perhaps it’s just a wreath made of the wintry snow?
If only there had been a blanket of snow, shimmering white against the mountain peaks, everything would have felt different.
By this, it had all just melted away before the break of a bright new day.
Or perhaps it would have been swans gliding through the waters near a park fountain in a place like Central Park.
They spread their wide wings and soared far away.
It isn’t exactly swans circling the fountain at Central Park, either.
It isn’t some frozen wreath made of winter snow, either—it's much more substantial than that.
But it is the festive tents of the formidable Asan aga Glimmering.
Glimmering so white where the sycamores grow.
Low Lies The Chief on The couch of The wounded.
They watch over his sisters with the most tenderest care.
She weeps for her mother, lost in an endless, boundless sorrow.
Every grieving companion—though his Lady remains by his side—is present.
Her grief ran deeper than even the most devoted mother could ever endure—it was a profound, heavy kind of sorrow that seemed to settle into her very bones.
But from within that crowded military encampment where he lay wounded—amidst the chaos and the noise of the field hospital—everything felt so different.
Though a crowd of grieving friends gathered there—tender sisters and brothers alike—the weight of it all felt overwhelming.
Timid shamefacedness compelled her to stay.
Yet, in her absence, the intensity of his fury only continues to burn brighter.
The stern chieftain delivered that final, cutting line—the one that severed everything.
"Cast out from my castle—no longer its mistress,"
"Separated from my kids and everything I’ve built..."
Anguish The Heart of that Lady Deep rended When The hard message was brought to Her Eye Woe werw The looks on Her children She bennded Weeping around Her tho
Anguish The Heart of that Lady Deep rended When The hard message was brought to Her Eye Woe werw The looks on Her children She bennded Weeping around Her tho
Anguish The Heart of that Lady Deep rended When The hard message was brought to Her Eye Woe werw The looks on Her children She bennded Weeping around Her tho
Anguish The Heart of that Lady Deep rended When The hard message was brought to Her Eye Woe werw The looks on Her children She bennded Weeping around Her tho
Over the massive drawbridge, the sound of galloping horses comes thundering through—loud, rhythmic, and unmistakable.
Wildly She started in desperate mood She thought ' twas The signal of Asan advancing and rusherd
Wildly She started in desperate mood She thought ' twas The signal of Asan advancing and rusherd
And rusherd to the turret to plunge in the flood.
"Wait, please—don't go! My mother! Oh, my mother!"
It isn't the horses of our fathers that you're hearing.
"It’s the swift steed belonging to Carazan, your own brother."
And so, her children cried out in a mixture of profound sorrow and genuine fear—
And then, the grieving woman turned her gaze once more toward her brother.
Clinging around Him with bitterest moan
Regarding those five little ones—the mother...
Now look at me—Carazan, a woman who bears no children.
Carazan stood there, silent and heavy with sadness.
Then draw fra his boss The severing Bill Speaking divorce to The Lady of Asan Leaving Her Free
Carazan Then draw fra his boss The severing Bill Speaking divorce to The Lady of Asan Leaving Her Free
Leaving her free to espouse whom she will.
And then, with a heavy heart, the grieving Lady offered her final blessing to her daughters.
I remember being a kid back in suburban Ohio, watching my grandmother tend to her garden, and there was this quiet, tender sort of affection in everything she did—just small, gentle gestures that felt monumental at the time. It reminds me of that line, "Kissed the red cheek of each fair featured boy," which carries such a specific, soft weight to it. There’s something deeply nostalgic and almost poetic about that imagery—it captures a moment of pure, unadulterated innocence before life gets complicated.
Even in those earliest moments—from the suckling to her breast closely pressing—there is a profound sense of connection that stays with you. It’s that primal, unshakable bond that defines the beginning of everything.
Woe's—she just couldn't seem to undo the knot.
Torn was The Tia by The harsh-tempered brother He raised Her behind Him upon his fleet Horse and to The lofty abode of their Mother , He Bent woth The sorrowul Lady his course
He raised her behind him upon his fleet Horse and to The lofty abode of their Mother , He Bent woth The sorrowul Lady his course
And to the lofty abode of their Mother,
He bent woth the sorrowul Lady his course.
It hadn't even been two weeks since everything changed—barely a fortnight and a day—when the world seemed to shift entirely. It’s funny how quickly things move once the initial shock wears off, isn't it? One moment you're standing still, and the next, life is moving at a pace you never anticipated.
Scarce Had a fotnight and day When to that Lady cama many a lover All in Her mourning
Scarce Had a fotnight and day When to that Lady cama many a lover All in Her mourning.
The most remarkable figure of them all had to be Imotski's Great Caki that th, the pride of the region.
Cadi Long Had He loved Her more dearly Than Life Then
Then she turned to her brother, weeping—that poor Lady.
"Don't go handing me over to someone else to marry."
"Give me no more ads a wife to another"
And so, in the midst of her grief, she turned to her brother and spoke to him with a heavy heart.
I often find myself thinking about those moments when life feels most fragile—specifically that heavy, lingering fear of what happens when we aren't there to protect our own. It brings to mind a certain poetic sadness, almost like an old folk song from the American South, where one wonders: "Lest when my poor orphans shall call on their mother..." It’s a haunting thought, isn't it? That sense of leaving a void behind, wondering if the legacy we leave is enough to sustain them when the world gets cold.
It feels like my heart should be shattered—just completely broken by all this anguish and longing.
Her brother simply didn't care about the lady's prayers—it’s one of those heavy, tragic details that always sticks with me when I think about this story. It really highlights that sense of isolation she felt, knowing that even her own blood wouldn't listen to her pleas.
She was absolutely set on making her his wife.
To bestow her as spouse on the great Caki of the region.
It seems there was an underlying expectation that those substantial marriage gifts would serve to bolster the wealth and status of his household.
"Yet bid the Cadi, my brother Carzan"
Bring a black veil to wrap this grieving crowd in shadow.
Whenever I find myself passing by the residence of Asan aga Glimmering...
These grieving eyes—they are all their children have left to look upon.
Hardly had the news reached the Cadi before
he gathered the festive wedding procession
and, carrying the veil just as the lady had requested,
they reached the fortified towers of Carazan safely.
They arrived securely at the towering heights of Carazan
but as the wedding party turned back with the bride,
lo! as they rode past the grand estate of Asan,
the children caught sight of their lost mother once more.
They cried out in unison: "Oh, have you truly come home?
Are you back to share in our meals and our play?
How long we have grieved during your long absence!
Don't go any further—your children are right here!"
Hearing those tender voices, she came to a sudden halt.
"Hold your horses beneath these beloved towers,"
she told the distressed gentlemen.
"I must give my final gifts to my little ones first."
The wedding party settled beneath the imposing turrets
while she bestowed her final tokens upon her children.
She adorned the boys with ornate, rich belts
and gave them bright sabers set with glowing jewels.
She dressed her daughters in silks that rustled beautifully,
preparing them for the days when they might need to stand strong.
Even to the infant nestled closely to her heart,
she gave a belt, a saber, and a shield.
The stern Asan Aga watched all of this from nearby,
and he barked haughtily at his children:
"Get away from that woman—she’s more fickle than the wind,
more flighty than a summer breeze and colder than the ocean tide."
Fearing him, the children fled, crying out loudly,
leaving only the infant, whom she pulled tightly to her chest.
The pale Lady sank down, trembling and fading away,
clutching the babe even closer as she drifted into eternal rest.
Well, Hasanaginica has already been translated.
Lately, I’ve been chipping away at the second episode—trying to nail down the local slang from New York is absolute madness. It’s proving to be quite a challenge—it's definitely not easy—but I’m making some headway somehow.
It feels like it drags on way too long—the theatrical version usually clocks in at just about an hour and a half, and while the TV cut might run a bit longer, if I remember correctly, they actually ended up cutting Koju from the broadcast version.
rock n roll is here to stay Come inside where it's okay and I'll
shake you up a bit.
I'm currently working on translating this film into English so my friends back in the USA can finally watch it. I'll be sure to report back on their reactions—though, honestly, I suspect some of the underlying messages might strike them as pretty hilarious. To be fair, the film doesn't really have a profound point; the title is almost certainly just some sort of inside joke. For the subtitles, I’ve decided the English title will be "Decline of Rock'n Roll." The first episode is titled "How high's the water, papa?", the second is "Money Can't Buy Me Love", and the third goes by "My baby just wrote me a letter". Naturally, "The Adventures of Green Tooth" serves as the bridge between them. I could really use some creative input on how to handle those specific wordplays involving "dino" and "moj te svino"—it's tricky stuff. Right now, I've only managed to come up with "Dick" and "gives you a prick".
Check out the latest album from Electric Orgasm at
http://www.elektricniorgazam.com/. I was listening to it earlier this morning—just sitting there with my coffee—and it really struck a chord with me.
Brenda Rodriguez17 said:mmm yeah,
I'm signing off on this one too.
The reissue originally dropped back in 1996—you can usually find some used copies floating around for about $4 if you look hard enough. I’d suggest checking out Amazon or Half Price Books to see what's available.
Douglas Robinson12 said:Rank and file: Sundown
Let’s pull this thread back up to the top so we can hopefully dig into a few more details...
I’ve been diving into the latest issue of The Big Takeover, and it actually features a review of Rank and file. These guys really know their stuff! They mentioned that besides The Beatles, even Bruce Springsteen has covered tracks from this album—and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I stumbled upon confirmation of that on Soulseek too. The way the Everly brothers handled "Amanda Ruth" was just fantastic, especially considering how much influence they had on Kinman. There’s even a story about Bruce mumbling through "Lucky Day" during a soundcheck, backed by a keyboardist and Clarence on sax—it sounded like they’d never heard the song before and hadn't rehearsed it once, yet somehow the whole thing felt incredibly moving. I don't know; there was just something about it that really struck a chord with me.
Here is another one for the "forgotten gems" pile:
The Sleepers: -
The Less An Object This 79/81 band hails from San Francisco, featuring Rick Williams (formerly of Crime) and Tim Mooney (who later joined American Music Club). The collection I have includes the self-titled EP, a single, and an LP (which was titled Painless Night)—essentially the entire recorded output they ever produced. I first took notice of them while reading a brilliant piece on post-punk in Mojo. Though, strictly speaking, this isn't post-punk, at least not stylistically, despite the timing. Since the LP came out in '81, I tend to view it as one of those lost treasures of the eighties. It’s a gritty, raw rock'n'roll record where melodies and somewhat sparse poetry peek through Rick’s vocal outbursts (his voice reminds me a bit of Romeo from our local Spoons, though you can definitely hear echoes of David Bowie on the LP itself) and those distorted, chainsaw-like guitars played by Mike Befler (later of Toxedo Moons). The songs possess a rich structure; there is a lot going on under the surface. I find myself wondering if Grant Hart ever heard this, because certain tracks feel like they could have influenced his earlier work—stuff like "Diane," "What's Going on?", or "Standing by The Sea" almost feel like spiritual descendants of "No Time," "Flying," "She's Fun," or "Linda" from this set. There is quite a noticeable shift between the EP and the full album—the guitar work is significantly smoother on the latter—but both versions are excellent. Occasionally, the drum patterns shift into a machine-like rhythm, which is really the only thing that anchors the album to its era (even though that specific beat originated on a standalone single)—otherwise, the production is timeless. It truly sounds like it could have been recorded yesterday.
Look, I’ve been thinking about this. Americans have tried to produce TV series about the history of rock 'n' roll multiple times, and it’s always the same story. But one thing is absolutely certain: no one has yet managed to film a movie or a series that captures the entire history of rock 'n' roll in a truly objective way. Even here in the States, we’ve seen various attempts to tackle this subject. You have Janjatovic who put together an encyclopedia of the entire regional rock scene, then Lukovic had that interesting book back in the day that leaned more toward the pop scene—what people used to call the "easy listening" stuff—and then there's Outsider (which, if you ask me, is a fantastic film), plus now we have this documentary. I follow all of it with genuine interest! I’m sure this latest documentary will be fascinating to watch, but it's clearly impossible to create a truly comprehensive document about that era—which, if you think about it, is actually a testament to how rich and multifaceted our rock scene really was. We often get into debates about its quality, arguing whether we were second in Europe, third in the world, or maybe even seventh—but honestly, I won't weigh in on that right now; at the end of the day, it isn't a competition. Whether we like it or not, all of us who grew up in this subculture are products of that scene, so it’s only natural that everyone has their own specific vision of how it should be filmed and presented.
To give you a better idea of my perspective, here is a note from my wife. She’s currently staying with my parents in El Paso, while I’m out here in Portugal, and she wrote to me: "Hey, I was watching Smogovac yesterday, seeing them head off to some concert by a classic rock band. It’s much clearer to me now why you turned out the way you did."
I can’t help but wonder—what if we heard a version of The Gun Club - Sex Beat played entirely on the organ? It feels like it could be something truly haunting.
Listen, dustyridge12! Here’s a little breakdown of how the music went at my wedding:
Before the ceremony began—while everyone was finding their seats and the groomsmen were lighting the candles:
1) Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
2) Bob Dylan - Every Grain of Sand
The bride's entrance:
3) The Beatles - In My Life (I actually requested a custom remix with an extended instrumental section just to dial up the drama)
The moment the bride was handed over to the groom and they lit the candle:
4) Fairport Convention - Now Be Thankful
Right after the kiss:
5) A traditional folk dance, though I personally would have pushed for Dolly Parton / Kenny Rogers - Islands in the Stream—but the bride wasn't having it.
The congratulations and the guests exiting the church (my favorite part):
6) The Gun Club - Sex Beat
Of course, a Catholic church would probably have some issues with most of these choices—especially The Gun Club—so if you're planning something similar, I'd suggest doing it outside the sanctuary or, like we did, at a Protestant ecumenical chapel where the minister happened to be a huge Bob Dylan fan.
Look, if you're calling yourself an Electronicist, you really ought to realize that they didn't exactly have tape recorders lying around back in the medieval era!
dustyridge12 said:They fall asleep to this little techno-pop track, moj devojka. There was this beautifully crafted synth piano part playing the melody in a sort of quasi-50s style—really classy stuff.
Then you have some lovely guitar fingerpicking woven into the same song, followed by a psychedelic keyboard solo—they really nailed the arrangement for that hit. My only gripe is that rigid, metronomic drum machine beat—but honestly, that was just the standard flaw of that era...