Nurse with Wound - Huffin' Rag Blues (2008)
mijn stem
6 stemmen
Verenigd Koninkrijk
Rock / Avant-Garde
Label: Konkurrent
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Willy the Weeper (0:57)
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Groove Grease (Hot Catz) (4:07)
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The Funktion of the Hairy Egg (13:52)
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Black Teeth (5:10)
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Thrill of Romance...? (6:38)
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Livin' with the Night (2:06)
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Ketamineaphobia (5:49)
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Juice Head Crazy Lady (3:56)
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Wash the Dust from My Heart (5:54)
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Crusin' for a Brusin' (6:14)
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All of Me (14:55)
0
geplaatst: 15 december 2010, 22:29 uur
Een cheasy orgeltje, zwoele vrouwenstem, boerderij- en andere buitengeluiden (toeters, bellen en metaal) en een soort tweederangs Nick Cave imitatie.
Van ambient blues via lekkere ritmes naar relaxte jazz en drone. Werkelijk alles wordt uit de kast gehaald door deze Nurse With Wound. Ik vind het een beetje in de buurt komen van de "Sun City Girls". En hier en daar wat Zappaiaanse momenten. Een soort van geniale gekte waarvoor je je gewoon open moet stellen.
I Love it
(My Ba-by takes the mor-ning train....)
Van ambient blues via lekkere ritmes naar relaxte jazz en drone. Werkelijk alles wordt uit de kast gehaald door deze Nurse With Wound. Ik vind het een beetje in de buurt komen van de "Sun City Girls". En hier en daar wat Zappaiaanse momenten. Een soort van geniale gekte waarvoor je je gewoon open moet stellen.
I Love it
(My Ba-by takes the mor-ning train....)
0
geplaatst: 11 januari 2013, 18:41 uur
BLACK TEETH
Another year ending in a bloodless haze
Jumbled up ashes in an unmarked grave
Little green apples, tobacco road:
It's all the same
Begging crumbs from a cracker just to waste my breath
Finding blinders on a dumbshit who's selectively deaf
Bunch of wasted motherfuckers sipping whisky in the gutter
Loafing round the toaster with no bread an too much butter:
It's all the same
Makin whoopee under the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz
With a body that's got no name
Makin whoopee on the promenade at Coney Island
Three thousand miles away
Red bricks in Boston, Black teeth in a jar:
It's all the same
Trading insults with the dogs on the sunless strip
Passing pearls to a stranger with a cloven lip
Little green apples, bloated bodies on the bayou
Gonna make that trip
Try to score some purple at the donkey-end of 1967
Shooting horses in the alley where the saints convene
On the wrong side of the kingdom of heaven
Passed out on the subway, cranked up on the L
Pukin up my liver on the express train to hell:
It's all the same
Makin whoopee under the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz
With a body that's lost its name
Makin whoopee on the promenade at Coney Island
Three thousand goddamn miles away
Little green apples, tobacco road:
It's all the same
It's all the same
And Satan says: Here comes a stop, get off the bus
And the man says: Shut up Satan, I won't get off
And Satan says: Here comes a stop, get off the bus
And the man says: Shut up Satan, Satan shut up
And Satan says: Here comes another stop, get your fat ass off the bus
And the man says: Give me Easter Bunny!
and: I'm sorry that I put my hand over your mouth
And Satan replies:
Repent of your sins! How many angels fit on the head of a pin?
And the man at the back of the bus stands up and cries:
Pick up your cross for Jesus... asshole
Another year ending in a bloodless haze
Jumbled up ashes in an unmarked grave
Little green apples, tobacco road:
It's all the same
Begging crumbs from a cracker just to waste my breath
Finding blinders on a dumbshit who's selectively deaf
Bunch of wasted motherfuckers sipping whisky in the gutter
Loafing round the toaster with no bread an too much butter:
It's all the same
Makin whoopee under the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz
With a body that's got no name
Makin whoopee on the promenade at Coney Island
Three thousand miles away
Red bricks in Boston, Black teeth in a jar:
It's all the same
Trading insults with the dogs on the sunless strip
Passing pearls to a stranger with a cloven lip
Little green apples, bloated bodies on the bayou
Gonna make that trip
Try to score some purple at the donkey-end of 1967
Shooting horses in the alley where the saints convene
On the wrong side of the kingdom of heaven
Passed out on the subway, cranked up on the L
Pukin up my liver on the express train to hell:
It's all the same
Makin whoopee under the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz
With a body that's lost its name
Makin whoopee on the promenade at Coney Island
Three thousand goddamn miles away
Little green apples, tobacco road:
It's all the same
It's all the same
And Satan says: Here comes a stop, get off the bus
And the man says: Shut up Satan, I won't get off
And Satan says: Here comes a stop, get off the bus
And the man says: Shut up Satan, Satan shut up
And Satan says: Here comes another stop, get your fat ass off the bus
And the man says: Give me Easter Bunny!
and: I'm sorry that I put my hand over your mouth
And Satan replies:
Repent of your sins! How many angels fit on the head of a pin?
And the man at the back of the bus stands up and cries:
Pick up your cross for Jesus... asshole
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