Please, people walking down Broadway: Do not affect that angry/serious face when you want to seem importnat and good looking – it doesn’t work. Smile. You’re in NYC at the turn of the century, living in interesting times, positive or not, and you’re probably not too poor. Stop that awful squinting and cheek sucking.
And I’m listening to better music than you.
From their Heron King Blues album, a funkish, alt jazz track from [the mostly country weirdos in] Califone, but not uncharacteristic, which is the most frequently amazing thing about these uncategorizable cats. Wait for the horns.
Need I say anything about the eighties postpunk masterpiece known as The Turgid Miasma of Existence? Aussie brilliance. Never repeated, always respected. So punk, their name was a middle finger aimed at the Sex Pistols. And again – it’s the drums.