Sunday, July 27, 2014

This life is bittersweet. . . again






Now all of the planes have landed
The soldiers are in their beds





Smoke rises from their clothing
And sweet dreams through their heads







Truth faced leaves a strange taste
When joy and sadness meet






A country rain on a city street
This life is bittersweet




The boy with the bloated belly
Hears today's truck arrive






He puts down his baby sister
And makes his way outside






Truth faced leaves a strange taste
When joy and sadness meet
A country rain on a city street
This life is bittersweet






Everyone's a novelist
And everyone can sing
But no one talks when the TV's on...







The lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled
Dark clouds filled the sky




A country rain on a city street
This life is bittersweet 
 



Moxy Fruvous



Post-blog notes. Once again I lost an entire post, with all my thoughts about my favorite '90s pop/folk group, Moxy Fruvous, gone forever. (Barenaked Ladies were a close second, with their anti-rockstar geekster appeal predating The Big Bang Theory by 20 years.) I'm trying to piece it together now, but it's traumatic. What I was going to say was, I never expected to hear this song again. Every so often I'd check YouTube to see if someone had posted it, and though King of Spain and the cutesie My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors ("spilled some dressing on Doris Lessing, these writer types are a scream") were all over the place, this one wasn't. It has a smoky, dust-rising, melancholy Gulf War feeling to it, along with two of the greatest non-Dylan lines in pop music: 

Everyone's a novelist, and everyone can sing
But no one talks when the TV's on

Once again, this predates the cult of narcissism, the American Idol and easy one-click authorhood by twenty years or more. And yet, unlike the Ladies, these boys gradually drifted into obscurity. But that one song, somehow redolent of Jim Morrison's melancholy bleakscape, smolders on.

(And oh. When I went looking for Google images to illustrate this post, most of them were from my blog. From my post. On this. On this song, a while back, two years maybe, or three. So I just pirated my own work. I don't care who pirates mine. I remember when it was a real issue "using" a photo, then Pinterest came along and everybody was stealing everything from everyone. I've used TinEye Reverse Image a lot, trying to find the provenance of certain photos, but all I ever find are different sizes and what web sites it has appeared on. I would hate to be a photographer now. By the way, what possible use is Pinterest? It seems almost as useless as LinkedIn.)


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