Sad pop songs have Bee Gees confessions
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Images for mellifluous eerie sound into a doleful ode to eternity
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Hank Williams, slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonelyComfortless saints walk among the saved,
speak truths, the worst life offers -- heartbreak, trauma, bereavement -- drawn from harrowed events.
Pete Drake Forever ♾ Talking Steel Guitar (Chopped & screwed)
Pete Drake performs to playback 'Forever,' written by Buddy Killen, released by The Little Dippers and Billy Walker in January 1960; now beautiful, now haunting musical film/video, now common, performance documents, perfected with the inclination and budgetary backing of, among other few and far between backers, the first mass popularization of the form, this film vignette at the Ryman Theater's Grand Ol' Opry, whose use of these live filmed song stories are nothing if not direct antecedents to the continuing iteration of the then expensive but profitable and wildly popular format which included a literal interpretation of song storyline, or most often, just lip syncing and faux performance done straight to the live in studio recorded and released single, and released as closely to the single release of that master reference product as possible, for promotion purposes, almost of its own except for the less familiar but contemporaneous presentation of Scopitones, this same format for pop and rock records, discs played in coin-operated video jukebox machines, groundbreaking and portable, but limited compared to the broadcasting prowess of the mighty 50,000 watt behemoth radio stations of Nashville, establishing themselves as the true voice of America's music, storied and ultimately responsible along with their development of the three pronged attack in place which included, radio and live performance, making success of Country & Western music and then used as the business model for Rock 'n' Roll, even with its comparatively meager budget and resources, and then finally establishing it today as the ultimate successful form as established with MTV ca. 1980s.
Here is an iconic moment frozen in a distant-looking, almost contemporary time capsule, highlighting the musically advanced, always-fertile invention of the behind-the-scenes forward thinking men and women whose influence can not be underestimated as to its influence of what we see here as one example: Pete Drake to Peter Frampton and Joe Walsh to Zapp and Roger Troutman and Stevie Wonder, to Hip Hop and Rap, finally to scientific wizardry of one of electronic music's most oddly resonant and mesmerizing sound oscillators, since the Theremin, both enjoying short-lived and brief spans of popular, novel appreciation in brief minor, interesting spurts of popularity, the Talkbox, in the crucial period of its development which sees the addition of a rubber hose allowing spoken or sung vocalization effects produced i with sounds vibrations and the subtle shaping of his mouth.
He also changes its mellifluous sound into a doleful ode to eternity important as seen here by exhibiting on film one of the most bizarrely appearing encumbrances its functionality,
possibly penultimate end of road to less remaining elegant solution and probable ending of innovation, invocation, or iterative development, without it different deviced, different application, style, or tonal quality, decades before David Lynch may as well have, and may well have foundered among hauntingly cleancut Nashvillian musical genius en ensemble performance, no less Lynchian for his nascence, this recreation of their materialization, this Forever memory-made maudette, this strange day, famously conservative except it 'clean as a whistle,' hairless, where its redish pills and blue pullules and all in fineness their multi-hued pill proud prodigies, were settin' next to the Shine of the silvery moon, ahead straight over Mother Church, Rynan, GOO, and inching toward a little sliced pie of illumination it took breathless away to cast a beam or two toward Hank Williams' stooped malnutrition by morphine sulfate from unscrupulous men whose oath were taken hypocritically, and added to his misery, was Miss Audrey, waitin there at home for whatever malevolent iteration of the Irving Berlin of Country & Western music happened to stagger through a door which he could have just as easily been mailed through, whose ruination started as double-happiness, ended unbidden, well-ridden, the back of a Cadillac -- half-ridden, all the way dead on arrival, the Country Keith Richards, except for survival, keeled, wheeled, crawled and heeled by that two-fitted Sci-fi Pharmonster whose Hydra-head spoke imaginary dream lovers morphia's meridian, comorbidity, moribund preoccupation, its invitation accepted and now in attendance, two guests announced at door, required respondez vous, until it lit its, his lungs, built up projecting to the bathroom back row of Honky Tonk yodelling, that most antique of all American ululations, shared by his mentor Jimmy Rogers, sounding like the Alpine and Minnie Pearl had a baby Shiite Muslim son, who towards Mecca got himself lost, him in a holler, so they set to making noise which he might hear...
Letter Analysis
M M's consider that the underpinning of a successful life is part hard work and part intuition. A 'A' is for ambition and being driven in life by a special motivation to persevere. U Within the boundaries of the 'U' it turns out there is a reliable and thorough stance, as this is someone who doesn't trust their emotions too much and who has an objective nature. D As this letter resonates with the energy of the number 4, which is a very stable and domesticated one, these people loving to make plans. E E's core is connected to life principles such as not worrying about succeed but working towards it. T The 'T' may be burdened because of their tendency to easily surrender to becoming upset and callous. T Those under the effect of 'T' can be perceived as critical, but they are actually the opposite, making for sensible and objective friends. E The E's three equal sized branches, that are prolonged outwards, remind of the power of resourcefulness and originality.
slowly slowing the lessening tempo of the gasoline engine which pumped out pain, tragedy, and cause for cure's never ending, only to all Luke-driftin' men, his malady, maladroitly shuttin down the lonely with just a couple air swallows a minute, easy to see harder, to imagine shuttin' down that cotton turbine wheel, till Le Grande Croupier lets go that lucky Wheel of Fortune Roulette volition, if only to provide bettors enough tension, that wheel, ball hop out and land on something too lonesome to cry for anymore, in the middle of that last long highway ride,middle of night, silent illumined, purpled sky, brightly hiding this falling star, whose wishing gave no clue to his rigored question mark body's interrogatory, diacritic mark, made with Nudie by Manuel boots for dots, bowed head, its question mark's sickle ovoid cove, making known someone had something to tell somewhere, but it didn't do no good to wonder where they are now, cause that lonely, weary from waitin' heart just stopped tickin', it needed a break, a kiss, a guitar, a shot, and most of all, a beer, to catch the tear that was up in his eye, so lonesome he could cry.
with just a couple air swallows a minute, easy to see harder, to imagine shuttin' down that cotton turbine wheel, till Le Grande Croupier lets go that lucky Wheel of Fortune Roulette volition, if only to provide bettors enough tension, that wheel, ball hop out and land on something too lonesome to cry for anymore, in the middle of that last long highway ride,middle of night, silent illumined, purpled sky, brightly hiding this falling star, whose wishing gave no clue to his rigored question mark body's interrogatory, diacritic mark, made with Nudie by Manuel boots for dots, bowed head, its question mark's sickle ovoid cove, making known someone had something to tell somewhere, but it didn't do no good to wonder where they are now, cause that lonely, weary from waitin' heart just stopped tickin', it needed a break, a kiss, a guitar, a shot, and most of all, a beer, to catch the tear that was up in his eye, so lonesome he could cry.
She described songwriting pros very straight:
heart and a character emcee introducing this Twin Peaks outtake-that-never-was, truly bizarre, Music City Man of La Mancha maniac, co-writer with June Carter of Johnny Cash's hit "Jackson," Merle Kilgore!
My Ed Sheeran || Supermarket Flower Muse
"She was the nicest women you'd ever meet, was my mum's mum as written from my mum's point of view; a song to his dad, who insisted he service five people - just their members and his grandfather:"My grandfather turned on -- good memory there."among the
Comfortless saint walking among the saved
But the saint, though tall and bearded, wore a ball dress such as the unchastened belles of society sport upon earth, a profuse skirt, with flashing train; and he was walking quite alone.
"Where are the 'saved'?" said Belle, with ghastly hope.
"They are just around the corner," said I cheerfully; "where that suggestion of clouds is—see!"
"N-no, but I guess they are. Ain't he the lookin'est thing you ever saw?"
"Quite the lookin'est!"
Belle giggled. I bore her out in it sympathetically.
Wesley, who observed how we were at least keeping the crows off of the clams, smiled upon us with feeble indulgence.
But as we read on, Belle did come to a lesson of such useful terror that she decided to take her rake and assist Wesley among the flats.
I approved her, and lay back, smiling, in the I heard Wesley's little old voice pipe up, considerately: "You'll scare 'em jest as well if you do go to sleep, major."
I kept on smiling. The sun seemed a lake of glory and I a boatman, fair and free, sailing vast distances upon it with just one stroke of my wand-oar—and here I began to scare the crows unconsciously.
The air of the Basin anon exhilarated one, anon soothed one into wondrous, deep, peace-drunken slumber.
When I awoke Vesty stood over me, calling me.
There was a purple, dark sky—now but little after mid-day—glowing with red at the edges like a sunset; the wind was blowing strong. It was dark, yet all was distinct about me. I sprang to my feet with a sort of solemn exultation and bared my head.
"Wake, major, wake!" Vesty cried to me. She drew me and pointed out to sea. "Notely's boat—it was trying to make home—it is on the reefs."
I saw it then by a flash of that unearthly light, the wind descending like the last of days. I hastened with Vesty to the low beach, where the people were moving strangely, looking out on the sea with its swift-crested breakers.
From the yacht, beating helpless on the ledges, Notely and the few who had sailed with him that morning were putting out the life-boat; but Captain Rafe kept running his weather-stained hand down his white face, his head shaking.
"Bare chance t' save half of 'em in the gale—they'll swamp her; nay, nay, they'll never get her home with that freight; and it's no sea—it 's a herricane, above and below. I see the sky in broad day like that but once before, and then——"
His voice was hushed, the boat was off, was lost; then once again we saw her; we felt the gale rushing; when we could see again, there were a few struggling in the waves, a few climbing back upon the sinking masts of the vessel, with wild signals.
The little Basin boats were old and frail; only Gurdon had lately been building a new fishing-boat. While we were looking off he had been hauling it down the steep bank by the cottage.
Now when we saw him Vesty ran to him and put the child in his arms and clung to him. I saw a great light come over his face.
"Gurd," said his father sternly, the old stained hand still stroking his white face, "ye have strength and skill above the most—but look at yon! Put up your boat, lad; it's no use. Moreover, there are five men yonder on the masts—your boat, tested in an ordinar' sea, holds but five alone!"
"Will ye go out jest to give them another chance to wrack themselves, and ye put yerself by to drown?" said another, with a trembling, half-ferocious laugh. "Look to yer wife and child. Don't be a fool!"
"There 's not one o' ye," cried Gurdon, "but if ye had a boat fit 'u'd do all ye could, an' men sinkin' and a-wavin' ye like that—let me off! There 's no other way——"
His voice broke. He looked at his wife and child, a look the woman understood for all eternity.
Vesty stood like marble; her shawl had escaped from her own throat, but was warm about the child that Gurdon had placed back on her breast.
As we waited, watching, transfixed, Fluke came running breathless from the woods where he had been as guide with the party of Notely's pleasure-seekers who had stayed behind that morning.
Captain Rafe ran to him, with the hand still stroking his pallid face: "That was Gurdon out there, making so near the sinking boat—he would go—only five——"
But Fluke heard never a word. He saw; his face flushed with a kind of mad joy; he tossed his hair back, and leaping into the waves, swam to his own frail little fishing-boat that was tossing at anchor.
His voice leaped back to us above the tumult of the wind: "Gurd and me'll come home together!"
There was a lull in the gale; the five were put off from the sinking craft in Gurdon's boat.
And the men were standing with ropes on the shore; but I only saw, as the tempest moaned, to swell again, one figure on a bending mast, between sea and sky, and one in a frail shell toiling toward him.
The tempest fell and smote. Then did nothing seem to me fated underneath those awful heavens, but grand and free; freest, mightiest of all that figure imprisoned between storm and cloud, overwhelmed, buried——triumphant, imperishable! Then did the dead that I had known come forth and walk upon the waves before me: and I beheld that they were not dead, but glorious and strong—that, rather, I was dead.
Then all seemed black about me. I would have clutched at somewhat, but I felt a cold hand grasp mine in appealing agony. They brought in with ropes through the breakers the five men who had neared the shore in the young sailor's new fishing-boat.
My Ed Sheeran || Supermarket Flowers Music
But the "Twin Brothers," the lime fig, the toiling fig boat ad ;" me to ether!"
1. Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran
As songwriter producer, he worked through 19 number-one hit singles:
also her,
including her one album, "You Never Want Mellow Hopelessly Devoted Magic, Your Magic Love Let Me Know You Never Been Mellow, Greasy, eponymous, Greasey Love," award Grammy Award Year.