punk

The Ramones – Rockaway Beach

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A sunny day in Seattle!

Chewing out a rhythm on my bubble gum
The sun is out and I want some

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Some commentary about the universality of certain experiences…and Darth Vader

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Looks like that row south of Grenville to me. Photo by flickr user Canterbury. Used by Creative Commons License. All rights revert to originator.

From a social media posting:

“I was a punk rock guy in my teens. The local punk rock house was rented by one of our better local bands, the guitarist of which later ‘grew up’ and became a professional chef in a really neat, innovative restaurant (before killing himself with heroin). The things he could make out of last night’s rice and today’s beans…I learned a lot about cooking on the large and cheap from him.

“It’s funny to me, but when I moved to the island of Grenada I noticed immediately these punk rock cook-ins came about the same way the locals would organize a cookout. Whatever you had to offer –be it your share of fish from this morning’s net or a hand of plantain from your yard or a big dasheen root from the market– would all be brought and all go into a big pot over a fire. Sometimes that pot would yield oildown, sometimes fish waters, sometimes something else. Every time though a group would form when the head chef/host judged the pot ready. The fisherman and farmer who provided so much to the pot get their fill, but the wives and children and neighbors with empty bellies who happen by all eat too. There is no such thing as leftover oildown. It just impressed me that this communal way of eating –one that acknowledges our common humanity and our original cooperative social modality– seems to spontaneously arise in certain communities, even at great geographical and sociological distance. It is as if sharing and the concept of ‘enough’ are actually coded somewhere in our DNA, like the last shred of The Force that resided in and ultimately redeemed Darth Vader.”

Jesse Malin – Questioningly

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The passing of Tommy Ramone (liquor) Friday put me in a reflective mood and sent me to the stacks, looking for something of theirs that’d adequately express just how awful it is to lose him. The thing is, even a cursory look at The Ramones‘ music shows I’m looking in the wrong place. Their music was always about the teenage now: the girl you like, the party you’re with, the music that provides a 4/4 refuge from the acute confusion of emergent adulthood. With almost mathematical totality their oeuvre turns away mourners, the self-obsessed, the wallflowers already retiring to life’s sidelines.

Released on 2002’s ‘The Song Ramones the Same,’ fellow Queens native Jesse Malin’s cover of  ‘Questioningly,’ originally released in 1978 on ‘Road To Ruin,’ is a heartfelt rendition of a song that, quite uncharacteristically of Ramones songs, tears the heart and deposits the listener in a sad & pensive space. Neither Tommy’s absence from the original recording or that it happens over a girl and not a punk drummer gone to his reward isn’t lost on me, but now that the last of the original Ramones has died this song is the only item in their name that will ever again bring me to tears.

Questioningly her eyes looked at me
And then she spoke aren’t you someone I used to know
And weren’t we lovers a long time ago?
Looked at her close forced her into view
Yes, I said, you’re a girl
That I once may have knew
But I don’t love you anymore
Why do you want to talk to me for?
You should have just let me walk by
Memories make us cry.

In the morning, I’m at work on time
My boss he tells me that I’m doing fine
When I’m going home
Whiskey bottle movies on T.V.
Memories make me cry
And I’m alone just me
Just me, Questioningly

But I dont love you anymore
Why do you want to talk to me for?
You should have just let me walk by
Memories make us cry.

Questioningly her eyes looked at me
And then she spoke aren’t you someone I used to know
And weren’t we lovers a long time ago?

RIP Erdélyi Tamás, King of Punk Rock Drummers

Mud City Manglers – 1234 Motherfucker

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Pittsburgh, PA’s Mud City Manglers are the best-kept punk rock secret since Washington DC’s Black Market Baby. As with my previous post from MCM no lyrics are necessary: one is simply too busy being fulfilled as a punk to care.

The Clash – Police On My Back

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The greatest rock & roll band of all time make a kickass anthem out of this Eddy Grant song. Grant –a Guyanese-born, UK-raised reggae phenomenon– is perhaps better known for his song ‘Electric Avenue’.

I been running Monday Tuesday Wednesday
Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday
Running Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Saturday Sunday
What have I done?
What have I done?

Motörhead – Iron Fist

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That moment when you realize you have ‘favorite Motörhead songs.’ How did I get to be 44 again?

Iron horse dont make a sound
Iron hooves don´t touch the ground
Walk in circle lose your track
Can´t go on but you can´t go back.