Roky Erickson vs Robert Plant vs Elvis Costello

Roky Erickson's 'Love to See You Bleed' was released 1992 by Swordfish and I've only ever seen the vinyl, which I bought. It appears to be a compilation of things from various sources [ie acoustic numbers 'Recorded 1976/1992' - imagine if that meant one continuous recording session. Well knowing drummers, I'm sure it's possible, but on the "'76/'92" tracks here there aren't any], some band stuff live in the Bay Area and Austin, some un- or barely-accompanied studio things. The tasteful cover features (front) pic of Roky looking as deranged as anyone ever who doesn't live in my building + (back)picture of gargoyle, with the album title in blood-red 'dripping' letters.

Rec starts sounding like acoustic versh of Roxy "Thrill of it All" when the words come in. "Demon is up in the attic on the left/ My eye turns to the left to say no/ Said I am the special one/ I never hammered my mind out/ I never held the bloody hammer/ I am the doctor/ I am the psychiatrist/ To make sure they don't think they'd hammer their minds out/ I bet THEY'd have a bloody hammer/ It's not a sledgehammer/ it's not a chisel/ it's not a train/ BUT OF THOUGHT..."
The second track is a twelve-bar blues with the amazing line "You ain't got no mind no more no mind no more you got to lose" - amazing because the syllables fit every single note accent perfectly. Like he's got the blues FLOW. So whatever the words are, which is a pretty loaded 'whatever' in this case, they are still subordinate to the music's formal rules. Whether or not music even HAS formal rules depends to a large extent whether or not those who subordinate themselves to said rules most fully feel as if they have INTERNALISED rules or at least do not experience cognitive dissonance w/ same while in pursuit of 'craft' (which itself implies existence of 'form'). (What the determinants are re designated artist's relationship to form = great unexplored question! Well unexplored unless it degenerates into tribal name-calling, which leads to all sorts of shit, some funny, some not). Back to RE - as if to highlight prev. 'flow' song concludes with shout of "I LOOOVE the blues."
"Laughing Things" is played on unnaccompanied el.gtr. fuzzed with mid-range boost in that James Williamson/Mick Mars style. This sound is quite common among gtr players who haven't been in a recording studio yet and thus haven't been Mesa Boogie Blanderized by fuckin' fuckwit engineers who keep telling you shit like "The louder it is in the studio the quieter it'll sound on record!" Well they're right but instead of making the gtr sound like fuckin' John Denver and adding crappy digital distortion later why not just GET OFF THE FUCKING DRUMMER'S DICK! Jesus! If you need separation then YOU'RE A SHIT DRUMMER! If your playing has any dynamics at all then you should be happy with one ambient mic! "What are dynamics?" Oh sorry, you're English. Anyway..."Laughing Things". There are three chords that are played as root fifths (back to teen punkmetal $99 Sears gtrists again!), which have octaves added on at the end to achieve full powerchordosity. "Laughing things never hurt anyone." (Companion piece to similar outreach on Side 2, "Things That Go Bump in the Night"["..they're alright, yeah they're alright"] The next verse changes gears a bit. "Leafy things/ leafy things/ leafy things never blow to the left of them". Verse 3 complicates this scheme with "Children/ are laughing things", as opposed to 'leafy things'. Now the top two strings are used as a counterpoint a)rhythmically b)texturally [remember how much distortion is on here, so not only is there open-string droning but harmonic overtones as well] and c)harmonically [open high E string creates droning suspended 4th chord] "You Don't Love Me Yet" expresses that Tralfamadorian view of chronology which really seems to irritate ppl who inordinately value the consensus model of mental-health indication (cognitive dept.), esp. when it turns out to be accurate, but can often be explained w/out recourse to breaking laws of astrophysics by claiming that soi-disant 'third eye' = creation of viable narratives from material overlooked/suppressed by others, abolition of conventional chronology byproduct of loose/exploratory/contemptuous relationship with language, ie tenses [easy enough to defeat distances in 2D space just by folding paper together so any two points touch, accomplishing in 3D [hyperdrive!] simple as moving at 90 degree vector from ANY POINT in 3D space, so why not collapse consciousness by linking all time-indicators together in a giant switchboard where you can just pull the cords out and listen in for free to everyone?). (A lot of the latter have no problems with astrology though for some reason)"Two Headed Dog" is the "Smoke on the Water" for guitar shops in a)Mars b)Hell c)a more bearable world than this one.
"Love to See You Bleed" -


"How are your headaches" asked my father at the bar at Twenty-One.
"No worse", I said.
"But they don't get better?"
"They don't, I guess."
"I'd like to reach in and pull out what's bothering you", he said. It was not a sentimental remark so much as a surgeon's impulse.
Norman Mailer, 'Harlot's Ghost'


Well that was easier than transcribing the lyrics. I'm a lazy sack of shit. This is my third week of unemployment and for the last few days I've just been smoking enormous amounts of marijuana, trying not to knock over the piss bottles and playing Roky Erickson records. Occasionally I see the flatmates at 8 AM, by which time I'm already completely fucked and red-eyed saying things to them like "Chuck Berry or Kraftwerk! ANSWER ME!" and worse than that, telling them MY 20-minute explanation. There's quite a good reason for this though, I'm doing it on purpose because they know lots of ppl in bands etc and if they tell everyone stories about their fucked-up flatmate then saves me the trouble of going out myself or hiring a PR company, get it? I've always had this problem though, part of the reason for my previous life of alcoholism and ongoing consumption of drugs is that I just wake up earlier than anyone else! I'm always up at 6 AM, no matter what. Even if I've been up all night I'm always most energetic in early morning situ (probably rural conditioning), and at that time NO FUCKER IS UP! It's boring and lonely, so you figure, "No other slob gets up before 2 in the afternoon, I've got like 7 hours to kill, so maybe if I get drunk or stoned I might a) fall back to sleep and wake up again in time for some company, maybe get two drunks in in one day!, and b) AT LEAST NOT BE BORED!" "LTSYB" reminds me of the scene in 'Julien Donkey Boy' where he does the poem (similar nihilistic sloganeering), and Werner Herzog says "Shut up! That's crap!" and you think "What a bastard", but then Herzog begins to criticise Julien's 'poem' on AESTHETIC/STRUCTURAL grounds - well, any grounds at all really are fine! He's actually validating Julien as a poet by doing this, if in a deceptively backhanded way. ("Now 'Dirty Harry' - that was writing! 'Are you feeling lucky.'" Pause pause pause. "Now THAT is dialogue.") 'LTSYB' would've got an A+ though. 'Distance' (real-world translation - "I MEANT for it to sound like this, so fuck you") explicified by stumbling over a syllable - proving that the piece is pre-structured. Plus there's a scrap thrown in for the groovy-ghoulie subcult collectors (zzzzzzzzzzz) (probably a nice gesture though, these ppl have paid RE's bills forever), the Ed Wood "Ble-e-e-e-e-eed!" scream at the end.

(Re Plant, Costello. As previously noted, RE musically works in very traditional forms, ie recognisable AS SUCH by any listener with only the vaguest knowledge of musical genres. Like you could play it to someone and say 'what is this?' and they'd say, "Oh that's a blues", and only some assholes (like ppl on certain music-type message boards) would say "Yeah? What kind of blues? Define blues, even! Ha ha ha! Fuck off 12-CD person!" (Throws 12-CD'er's shoe over roof of pub) "You're shit, you're shit! Remember son - always respect your elders!" [OK here we get into the ob-vs-sub thing again but one factor is always left out, ie music must be the ONLY field where every SINGLE crit axiom can ONLY be supported by special pleading because ppl are open (prideful even) of how little they know about subject technically, let alone those music crits who are amateur anthropologists who never observe actual people but derive endless satisfaction from their analysii of an imaginary public which pleases or displeases them at will. To say 'everyone's got a right to their opinion' just encourages the worst type of arrogance, it means ppl formulating their own stupid opinions instead of just uncritically swallowing mine.] Oh yeah Costello - well, the last song on 'LTSYB' is a 'joke' number called "Please Don't Kill My Baby", I say "joke" because it's quite distinct from the rest of the record in sounding like the most fifth-rate Blues Brothers rip-off frat act imaginable - and if granted the same amt intentionality as the other stuff it def. works as a sad comment on how the 'traditional' sonic areas ExploredEarlier2ExhilaratingEffect would be debased in the near future (the 'third eye' again) by the Prolixin shots of, let's say, Huey Lewis. When it came to "The Heart of Rock and Roll", his "aim was true", no doubt.
Re Plant - OK he sounds like him a bit. Other ppl think so, that's good enough for me. Plant worked with Jimmy Page, who was like the Neptunes of his time. Two anecdotes (both to be considered entirely meaningless pls) come to mind-
Co-worker once said to me, "Fuck,what a night I had. My brother was running up and down the stairs screaming and throwing shit, then he locked himself in his room and set it on fire." I said, "Um, is this an unusual occurence?""Afraid so, he's severe paranoid schizophrenic. Lately he's been the worst I ever seen him!" (I was previously unaware of this situ) A week later, I went into work and the same guy had a Roky Erickson CD on. I was about to enthuse over this, but worried that it might seem patronising in light of earlier revelations, I just said something noncommital like "Oh yeah, I like 'Two-Headed Dog'..." Guy stares at me with a huge grin, fixes it on me for 10 seconds and says - "Two-Headed Dog...is...the GREATEST METAL RIFF EVER RECORDED!" Story #2 - Discussing Zep with somebody, guy reaches into my DJ bag (already knows it'll be in there, dig?), pulls out 'ZoSo' and says "This cover? Expresses why I can't listen to 'em!" In one of those moments where somebody slags off a band you like with a comment so unfair, shitty, gratuitous and unfortunately correct that you can't really look at the band the same way again, he says - mega-irony alert! - "See this old guy? When I hear Zep I can smell the piss - to me it just sounds like a FILTHY, RANTING STREET BUM!"