Starstruck---And I don't give a fuck.
I was just in the mood for something Dandy Warhols today, so during my search, I came across a playlist that Courtney Taylor put together.
That guy is a pretty funny motherfucker. (Pardon the foul language, but I'm feeling so Samuel L. Jackson/Badass today). I always love coming across little tidbits of writing laid down by a heartthrobbed rock star or two. It's the same reason I continue to frequent Chocodog, 'cause I love obsessing over anything Dean Ween has to say. For some reason, it just makes me feel all special inside when Mig tells us "Thanks for catchin' us out on the road this time around, fuckers." Uh, well...maybe it's something I can't quite pinpoint how to explain.
So although they are not my words, I'm still gonna post this stuff Courtney had to say. I'm completely amused by what he has to say about Bob Dylan. In a way, it's sorta how I would feel if I listed a track by Radiohead. (Unfortunately, I haven't seen "the light" when it concerns Radiohead. Maybe it's in the cards for me one day, but it's not now--Please, don't hate me for it.)
Straight from "Pretty on the Inside" (uplister playlist by Courtney Taylor):
"Lay Lady Lay" (Bob Dylan) is the greatest song ever recorded. I know something that most people won't admit-- there is no such thing as a great song or a not great song. There's simply this ballpark where it's appropriate and cohesive and true, and then whichever ones get recorded correctly, produced correctly and delivered correctly, that version of it gets stamped, imprinted indelibly on the memory of our society, and that's the version we remember. And if we love it, we call it a good song, when really, just the mechanics were done appropriately, correctly, enthusiastically, hip, cool, whatever, deep, meaningful. It's not the best song. It's not the best-written song. It's not the most impressively written song. It's not even close. But that version, Bob Dylan's recorded version of it, the way it went to tape, the way it's been reproduced, the way it shows up on any stereo, anywhere, is fucking amazing. To me, just for me, it moves me more than anything, and I hate Dylan. He's just a fucking baby little fucking poop. He's a turd, he's a little turd, an ego, little insecure fucking competitive--I mean, it's not enough that he's like a rock legend, he's a little fucking tiny little poopy little turd, and he needs to be slapped by me. I want to meet him so I can go, "Bob, come on, you're like a zillion fucking years old, you're a rock legend, and you're still like a fucking eight-year-old boy who has to cheat at marbles. What the fuck is the matter with you? Why don't you just fucking grow up before you die?"
"Liberation Frequency" (Refused) Refuse scares me. They fucking scare me. I haven't seen them but just Brent and I listened to that record--they fucking scare me. And it's not because they're dressed up with blood and they're not 35-year-old men trying to scare 14-year-old boys. They're just fucking intellectual, condescending, "attitude," and full of their own intellect. They are so fucking much like me. They are the hardest, hardest band, and they dress like black bowl haircuts. They dress like Mods, and they are the fucking heaviest of heavy, beyond punk. They are the perfect band for that sound. The album is called "Shape of Punk to Come." Put it on, turn it up as loud as you can and just fucking put like a stocking cap on or whatever. Just make sure you dress warmly because it's going to be this like rush of just ice comes out of the speaker.
That guy is a pretty funny motherfucker. (Pardon the foul language, but I'm feeling so Samuel L. Jackson/Badass today). I always love coming across little tidbits of writing laid down by a heartthrobbed rock star or two. It's the same reason I continue to frequent Chocodog, 'cause I love obsessing over anything Dean Ween has to say. For some reason, it just makes me feel all special inside when Mig tells us "Thanks for catchin' us out on the road this time around, fuckers." Uh, well...maybe it's something I can't quite pinpoint how to explain.
So although they are not my words, I'm still gonna post this stuff Courtney had to say. I'm completely amused by what he has to say about Bob Dylan. In a way, it's sorta how I would feel if I listed a track by Radiohead. (Unfortunately, I haven't seen "the light" when it concerns Radiohead. Maybe it's in the cards for me one day, but it's not now--Please, don't hate me for it.)
Straight from "Pretty on the Inside" (uplister playlist by Courtney Taylor):
"Lay Lady Lay" (Bob Dylan) is the greatest song ever recorded. I know something that most people won't admit-- there is no such thing as a great song or a not great song. There's simply this ballpark where it's appropriate and cohesive and true, and then whichever ones get recorded correctly, produced correctly and delivered correctly, that version of it gets stamped, imprinted indelibly on the memory of our society, and that's the version we remember. And if we love it, we call it a good song, when really, just the mechanics were done appropriately, correctly, enthusiastically, hip, cool, whatever, deep, meaningful. It's not the best song. It's not the best-written song. It's not the most impressively written song. It's not even close. But that version, Bob Dylan's recorded version of it, the way it went to tape, the way it's been reproduced, the way it shows up on any stereo, anywhere, is fucking amazing. To me, just for me, it moves me more than anything, and I hate Dylan. He's just a fucking baby little fucking poop. He's a turd, he's a little turd, an ego, little insecure fucking competitive--I mean, it's not enough that he's like a rock legend, he's a little fucking tiny little poopy little turd, and he needs to be slapped by me. I want to meet him so I can go, "Bob, come on, you're like a zillion fucking years old, you're a rock legend, and you're still like a fucking eight-year-old boy who has to cheat at marbles. What the fuck is the matter with you? Why don't you just fucking grow up before you die?"
"Liberation Frequency" (Refused) Refuse scares me. They fucking scare me. I haven't seen them but just Brent and I listened to that record--they fucking scare me. And it's not because they're dressed up with blood and they're not 35-year-old men trying to scare 14-year-old boys. They're just fucking intellectual, condescending, "attitude," and full of their own intellect. They are so fucking much like me. They are the hardest, hardest band, and they dress like black bowl haircuts. They dress like Mods, and they are the fucking heaviest of heavy, beyond punk. They are the perfect band for that sound. The album is called "Shape of Punk to Come." Put it on, turn it up as loud as you can and just fucking put like a stocking cap on or whatever. Just make sure you dress warmly because it's going to be this like rush of just ice comes out of the speaker.