banksy may, or may not, have been here

Well. The origin of this post – the inclusion of this one song here, at least – is convoluted and curious. A matter of chance. Straightened roots. Jonderneathica – from Underneathica – certainly provoked, in part, this latest slide into phase 2 of the dub. With timely intervention and nod to Ari Up’s mischievous association

a pinball in a machine, rusty james

Francis Ford Coppola’s 1983 adaptation of S.E. Hinton’s “Rumblefish” – expanded in 1975 from her original short story first published in ‘Nimrod: 1968‘, the University of Tulsa’s literary journal – succeeded where its bigger budget sibling, “The Outsiders“, so obviously failed. Shot entirely in the monochrome of REM sleep, save for those few frames with

easter parade

As I pontificated with regard to the 1980’s the first time I posted a couple of cuts from Glasgow’s The Blue Nile over on Art Decade: “I hated the self-congratulatory stench of delusion. I hated the graphics. I hated the cheap looking suits and shady haircuts. I hated the flippancy of the music foisted on

shore leave

The album on which Tom Waits first began to weave his poetic tales of dissolution around properly improvised avant-garde jazz motifs, and paid a fond farewell to the “Porgy & Bess” melodrama which had served him so long and so well. Paving the way between the cinema bistro of 1980’s “Heartattack and Vine” – his

george jones: tears of a clown

george glenn jones at 77. born saratoga, texas, 12/09/31. hey. what’s in that trumpet, ya f@ckin’ lush. Okay. I know. I need to stop cribbing from WFMU. Thank you, Listener Greg G. I don’t recall having heard this particular maudlin dirge previously. What fun! Let’s join in and lighten the load; George Jones celebrated his