Am I the only one who’s noticed this?
Galina Krasskova
Laurie Anderson
I’m not just thinking the hair, either, but come on, that’s the most prominent thing I’m talking about.
But while I have you here:
And now for a bit of fluff….
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Category Archives: Music
The Planets
I found this BBC performance on YouTube, and had to compile a playlist to share. I would really love to see this danced by Isadora Duncan, too.
Q: Who says Apollon only loves “Classical Music”?
Hint: Don’t listen for words or rhythm or construct any more than the whole. Getting lost in one part —lyrics, rhythm, movement— is for Dionysians ( ;-p ), or to be more accurate, it distracts from Apollon’s presence in all truly inspired works of musical genius.
A: Anyone who don’t know Apollon.
Rebecca Ferguson – “Nothing’s Real but Love”
Mick Karn – “The Language of Ritual”
Lene Lovich – “Bird Song”
A little bird told me, you were untrue
Even though, I had, faith in you
I believe, the liars words
Oh the same little bird
So with the bird, one day, you flew away
I woke up, too late, you had gone
Fading on with this song
Of the hurting little bird
Still I watch the sky
Still I wonder why
Still I hope that I…
Can carry on…
If I can’t be strong
If you hear my song
you’ll know that it was wrong, to say good bye…
Such a cold bird, so hard, captured your heart
Does it matter, I am, falling apart
Breaking fast, as the flesh
Of the dead little bird
Still I watch the sky…
Siouxsie & the Banshees – “Melt!”
You are the melting men
You are the situation
There is no time to breathe
And yet one single breath
Leads to an insatiable desire
Of suicide
In sex
So many blazing orchids
Burning in your throat
Making you choke
Making you sigh
Sigh in tiny deaths
So melt!
My lover, melt!
She said melt!
My lover, melt!
You are the melting men
And as you melt
You are beheaded
Handcuffed
(In lace and blood and sperm)
Swimming in poison
Gasping in the fragrance
Sweat carves
A screenplay of discipline
And devotion
So melt!
My lover, melt!
She said melt!
My lover, melt!
Can you see?
See into the back
Of a long, black car
Pulling away
From the funeral of flowers
With my hand between your legs
Melting
Sevrin