Author Topic: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music  (Read 12835 times)

colonel_mexico

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #90 on: September 24, 2015, 04:13:09 PM »
Cool tune philip! 

Man, she has moments like below that are just greatness, but the album is kind of meh, I need to give it another chance.

"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #91 on: September 24, 2015, 08:30:21 PM »
The tempo/mood swings in that song are fantastic.

I wish the album started with West Coast, because by the time I got to it, I was kind of bummed out and not in a good mood. Coming after Brooklyn Baby :P is an especially not good line up. :)
"I'm a new day rising."

colonel_mexico

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #92 on: September 27, 2015, 11:58:11 AM »
A story of 3 lost souls who heavy hearted and searching have begun a journey and if my feeble words can't find the way to shed light on this tale of love and woe then let these tunes begin.

Davey the stranger trying to find the other half his nightmare, the one whose sweet sleep stole everything from him.  He drives this desert and sees majesty, even as foreign devils give him the stare.  Knives aren't long enough to strike the peace into the hearts of these men, but with a gun and a nod these halls of Valhalla have no heroes, just a place to stack gold and forget the world.  This will have to do.



Charlie hasn't been called Charlotte since she was a girl, but she has been called many other things.  Dreams of bigger and better with the Spanish flavor weren't exactly painted what the red of so many art deco savants had in mind, but she thrives.  She tries to see past tears that aren't coming and knows that today isn't where she should be, otherwise that silver lined hole in her heart would have some soul to it.  The rhythm are all out of place and she can't even tap her foot to seem interested, even as the slick one sidles up for a kiss that makes her sick.  She takes it with an air of depravity that is so cool.



The lunatics are on the grass, Sid Barret isn't a cousin, but saint James is a friend.  "Let this course through my veins and help Chamaco and I finish the job."  Evil isn't a package, but it serves in disguises and even seems good in the smiles of spies and these deserters of love.  But even saint James in all his simple minded wisdom feels.  He misses the mother's touch, but he serves without sermons and his work brings fears even the liars can't fathom.  Chamaco in his defiant silence couldn't make his friend understand, but saint James is his best amigo and the only sound he cares to hear comes from the gun he uses to preach.  How can any kind of goodness come from this darkness?  Yet they travel on.

"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #93 on: September 27, 2015, 02:34:35 PM »
Will the three stories converge? Will we get more songs along the way? Please say yes! (What perfect companions to your poetry.) So many questions, but I should wait to see it unfold, if there's more. Please say there's more! :)
"I'm a new day rising."

colonel_mexico

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #94 on: September 27, 2015, 02:46:28 PM »
Thanks for browsing this!  Yes there shall be more.... :)
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #95 on: September 27, 2015, 06:04:58 PM »
Wonderful! Can't wait to learn more.


Oh, and not browsing... studying in depth. :)
"I'm a new day rising."

colonel_mexico

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #96 on: September 28, 2015, 09:17:54 PM »
Cool wind to the face, 'Ah yes I know this place.'  Davey is home, the havoc he has come to love, this could be his kingdom.  The Big Sky in neon lights hanging western saloon style, this place isn't old, it's doomed.  Plenty of friends-cum-enemies, let these pleasantries be nothing more then job opportunities.  "Who owns this place?"  Barkeep isn't old, but barrel chested from the womb, he's meant to be a tattoo in this world, stained and painted, "Sad Girl," a smirk for a stupid question, "No what the f- you want."  Beer never eases fears as easily as whiskey, but it sure is a good place for warm tears, let's see her, this Sad Girl, she just might rock my world."

And in this in-between world, patterned after all it's users, saint James and Chamaco, two misnamed Sheriffs, but definitely not losers join the bread line.  "Sad Girl is never sad, I wonder why they call her that?"  Chamaco shudders and saint James nods knowing the feeling all too well, hell has no covers to keep that one in bed.  But rent has to be paid, it costs to stay ahead of the game and saint James plays for days, the end of days.  "Chamaco and his tequila, Bill keep em coming," and barrel chest pours without acknowledging the insult, his mother called him George, the bar Dawg, but this one is trouble.  The Big Sky takes all comers and many leave dreamers in permanent stasis, oh this wasteland has places that smells like it tastes.  A place to forget, those places to remember aren't for this crowd, it's an occupational boundary, the twilight zone for mercenaries and pigeons mistaken for canaries.  Sales are good though especially when Sad Girl's list is full and the market is bull. 



Frank is always the boss, even when big Sis says no, because their mom said so.  Childish as ever, it's what's kept her clever and far from the cleaver, the meat retrievers always near.  Today there are many and she smiles at her brother, the blood suits not tied tight enough, she is the party girl that you don't want to get caught with the lights out.  She's not the type to shout, especially when the sport is about to begin, these drinks and special effects of the mind are the best you can find this side of chemistry.  She's not sad, she's insatiable until she's had enough.  Limits like this have no need for rhythm, they are Gucci glasses, French tipped floozy with the right amount of boozy and smoky eyelash smiles that quiver the inner parts of loin and liver.  Sickness or pleasure, does it matter when you have this kind of weather.  Sad Girl she is, but happy today for all the smiling faces, the music will take her through her usual paces and these will be places most want to go if only their souls hadn't said no. 



Charlie sits by the window wondering how to erase the spot just west of this madness. It's peaceful, but to her war is raging and nothing inside this happy little cage is worth arming herself.  She whispers to the wind as loud as a scream and even then it's too quiet for the pin to drop.  There is the thought of hope, but that is so fleeting it's like a slippery slope of how far down can this really go?  But Charlie is too afraid of that warm rapture of death that would come so quick when her boyfriend(s?) leaves his packing slip on the desk next to that picture.  A tincture of blood and that sweet warm brandy leaves her ready for whatever treasure this man comes to gather with whispers that make no sense, even in 7th grade crush notebook.  If only she could find that look again, that one warm pleasure that isn't about sin, but is more than anything explainable in her small mind, but her big soul could swallow hole.  The sunset is beautiful, she can only almost see that handsome sweat that comes with the work of a smile that cares and will stare forever.  If only he would dare, but then knights don't come as would be sweet talking slow dancers, these Astaires move with carelessness that is supposed to be forgiven because she prays a penury rosary.   Looking at the phone, maybe a letter?  Holding out for that far off home, hmmm, maybe it's better to wish for the stone that is cold, then the one that grows old.  If only....

"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"

Sandy

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #97 on: September 28, 2015, 11:30:09 PM »
Enigmatic, yet with discernible fragments. Much of it like a word on the tip of the tongue, known, but intangible.

I love it. Thanks for creating this amalgam poetry, Col.


Some of my favorite lines:

he's meant to be a tattoo in this world, stained and painted

There is the thought of hope, but that is so fleeting it's like a slippery slope of how far down can this really go?

but then knights don't come as would be sweet talking slow dancers, these Astaires move with carelessness...
"I'm a new day rising."

Dave the Necrobumper

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #98 on: September 29, 2015, 04:48:58 AM »
Colonel just listening to Probot's Big Sky, love the deep strength of the sound. Using so few instruments gives the sound a less loud tone without losing the power. Possibly also a reflection of the quality of the production. By less loud, it is about the amount of noise coming at you, so for a loud band I am talking about the wall of guitar noise of bands like Cosmic Psychos (ok it was more than just a wall of guitar noise, but I hope you get what I mean) which with only a few instruments gives a very loud tone to their music.

Not sure what to make of Kreayshawn, the tune was catchy, but ... not sure... I did like it ... its like trying to scratch an itch that you can not find.

Thank you for the 3 play


colonel_mexico

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Re: Colonel_Mexico likes weird music
« Reply #99 on: September 29, 2015, 07:39:30 AM »
@Sandy- thank you so much for your comments and for reading.  This story is an amalgamation of things I've wanted to write, but never have really put together, but it also stems from a dream I had in the past.  The music is meant to be an aural presentation of the inspiration, of the things that tap into my poetry/writing well and causes the spill of words and story you find here.  There are some hidden meanings, the stone that grows cold is obviously the tombstone, and the one that grows old is the stone that one would find as a precious gem usually worn on a ring on the left hand :)

@Davey- Totally!  The whole album was very well produced (leave it to Dave Grohl to bring us something heavy like this and make it a technical feat filled with walls of noise that are powerful without being screamo nonsense or speed-power chord heavy).  I'm glad you enjoyed that one.  Kreayshawn is meant to be catchy, while being disturbing.  It's part of the symbol of the character I was writing about, a beautiful, attractive woman who embodies the femme fatale, with a heavy emphasis on fatale.  Very grateful for the comments and that you enjoyed the tunes, thank you.
"What do you want me to do draw you a picture?! Spell it out?! Don't ever ask me, as long as you live don't ever ask me more!"