Posts Tagged ‘Fall River’

Last train to Torksville

Posted: February 21, 2019 in music
Tags: , , ,

I’m back from my away mission. It wasn’t the away mission I would prefer to go away for. Some guys go to New York, London, Paris, Munich. I go to Fall River, San Jose, and Merced. Merced. Fall River without the glitter.

If I owe you an email, I’ll reply after I finish this post.

If I owe you a letter, I’ll write one at the next monthly meeting of the typewriter club. Yes there is a typewriter club, and yes I go to their meetings. So long as those folks own typewriters, I don’t have to.

If I owe you a sext – no I don’t, I sent it from the airport!

Our series on forgotten bands continues tomorrow. See, I didn’t forget. But I am going to condense the nonsense, because I have other stuff to do and I’ve been having second thoughts about resurrecting some of these people.

RIP Peter Tork.

But the porpoise is waiting
Good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye

Surprise: “The Porpoise Song,” the psychedelic valentine from Head, a song that was written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King, is a favorite of headbangers. Middle-aged doom-dwellers Trouble perform one of the better covers. Give it a chance – there’s some awesome shredding at the 2:45 mark. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, Peter.

Queen: Greatest Hits
1994
Queen

I am never in the mood for Queen. There is no time of the day or night, no day of the week, no season in which I would choose to listen to Queen. This isn’t because I hate them; I don’t. They’re literate, which means a lot here at the Bureau. They use adjectives that are uncommon in a rock song (“warily”) and when the situation demands it they can concoct their own (“belladonic”). I’m just unmoved by their music.

One thing I do enjoy about Queen is that you can arrange their song titles to tell stories:

Fail Whale
It’s a Hard Life
I’m Going Slightly Mad
I Want to Break Free
I Want It All
Fight From the Inside
Keep Yourself Alive
Don’t Stop Me Now
Another One Bites the Dust

Get a Room
Get Down, Make Love
Spread Your Wings
We Will Rock You
Sheer Heart Attack
Sleeping on the Sidewalk

Placing them within the context of their ’70s contemporaries, Queen is less pompous than Yes, wittier than King Crimson, looser than Traffic, warmer than Pink Floyd, better dressed than Mountain, hipper than The Grateful Dead, kinkier than Steely Dan, nastier than Carole King, more electrifying than War, and smarter than Grand Funk Railroad, though that one is easy. My dog is smarter than Grand Funk Railroad. Queen could toast and eat Bread and wash them down with ELO without missing a beat. They are the Monitor to Black Sabbath’s Merrimack. They are not just superior to Chicago, they make Chicago look like Fall River, Massachusetts. Their song about women with overlarge derrieres is AC/DC with metaphors and flashbacks. AC/DC can barely manage a point of view. And their song about murder, the nature of reality, and Galileo made Wayne’s World possible.

Queen was obviously a respectable unit, but this is music, not quantum mechanics. If you could explain art you wouldn’t need misinformed critics like me. Honk if you love David Bowie.