Monday, September 16, 2013

Confession d'un enfant fou

So where is the dreamy-eyed boy who sang the stories of sail and arcady?  "Bang bang I'm gone" but I still need your love.  Having told that the music of this album would not be written by Peter, I initially did not have high expectation for it but clearly I was wrong, the music of Mick and Drew sounds surprisingly good, authentically babyshambles.  The opening Fireman is already a punk anthem and I know this album cannot be wrong.  If there is a thing called "comfort food", well, this sound is surely my "comfort music".  The new pair works and you have found your new pair son, though I always though of the old person.   I twisted the meaning of your words to find the trace of the old pair, sorry, authors are always dead.

When asked to choose between this and that, I'll take the former every time.  I am talking about myself.  That's what I do.  Habit.  Addiction.  And "each man had his freedom and it was (not) ours to say, how to behave, oh who's to say".  Am I finding excuse for or being partial to the author? (of course I am) No, no, I only know it's about what doesn't kill you makes you stronger (or simply makes you .... stranger like the joker said?!)  And I only know it would be great if I could find a big big joint and flow in the reggae dr. no.

It's worrying that you have mentioned that your were tied.  It's me who am always tied.  It's me who have already fallen from grace.  But you are my shambolic libertine, I will not allow you to surf the sorrow, drop your tears to the sea and sell your soul to destiny.

 Enough of my idiotic sound and fury, signifying nothing.  You warn that you will break the heart in two.  But I still cling to your sound, your ramblings, because the seeds are sown.  Sure, that is the sequel to the prequel.