Wednesday, January 14, 2009

George Ike John Joey Ringo Phil Tina Paul

Buenos Noches, Amigos,

Rock 'n Roll high school.

The Ramones - Pet Semetary

Under the arc of a weather stain boards,
Ancient goblins, and warlords,
Come out of the ground, not making a sound,
The smell of death is all around,
And the night when the cold wind blows,
No one cares, nobody knows.

I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again,
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again.

Follow Victor to the sacred place,
This ain't a dream, I can't escape,
Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones,
Spirits moaning among the tombstones,
And the night, when the moon is bright,
Someone cries, something ain't right.

The moon is full, the air is still,
All of a sudden I feel a chill,
Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away,
Skeletons dance, I curse this day,
And the night when the wolves cry out,
Listen close and you can hear me shout.
Ohhh- No Ohhh-No
I Dont want to live my life
Not Again
Ohh- No
I dont want to live my life
Not Again
Ohh no no no

A la table au café, maintenant, maintenant. I'm listening to The End of the Century, The Ramones' album produced by Phil Spector.

This thing is CRANKED right now, on the little speakers, in the corners where the walls meet the ceiling, above the painting of the pink bear and the loud girls who sound like glass and babies.

The speakers aren't big, but the sound is. Like a magician pulling a naked girl from a hat. It's impossible, but you want to believe.

The true fact is that listening to Joey Ramone sing "Baby I Love You" is as good as it gets. Anyone who considers this song any less than a revelation must be some kind of punk prude, unwilling to think critically for fear of his cover gettin' blowed. The truth here is that this is Joey at his broken-hearted best, singing his ass off.

My fave will always be Judy is a Punk. But this collection is a revelation every time I hear it. Kind of like Let It Be. Unbelievable!Another CD Phil Spector is said to have ruined. I couldn't disagree more. Having heard the newer release a few years back - sans Spector's contributions - it is clear to me that the man took a bunch of shining fragments and created a stained glass window: an iconic memento, filled with light, inspiring reverence. The memory of a mystery.

But this will always be my favorite:

Here's another one. The sweet Emily had us over to her house just before Christmas. We were eatin' hot chicken, cornbread biscuits, mac and cheese, and sweet potatoes listening to this. It's a wonder we survived at all. This is the kind of music that makes you want to kill a man that's wronged ya or love a woman that's done ya right.

There is no room for compromises between Ike and his wah-wah pedal.

Lately, this blog has been fortunate enough to host about 400 visitors a day. Thanks to all of you for your interest in Insomnia. When you can't sleep you gotta do something, no?

Le nuit est noir.
Le renard est blanc.
Le tigre est rouge.
Le sufrir est vanite.


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Explore this digiscape and listen to - and purchase - my new CD at your favorite online outlet. Also click the VIDEO button to watch the short film REvolution featuring yours truly on the soundtrack.


Be gentle in your sleepy hands on this world.
Be a killer in Heaven.

Joe Nolan

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