Earworm: The Wall

This morning’s earworm. No dark sarcasm in the classroom.

We don’t need no education.
We don’t need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.
We don’t need no education.
We don’t need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teachers, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall…

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Nerdcore Rap by Dan Bull re #occupywallstreet

Featuring Radiohead sample.

‘Coincidentally’ JP Morgan have just made the largest (multi-million) donation in history direct to the NYPD. It’s not about Protesters vs Police but for sure the movement can’t pay off the police. This is now the third week of the little-reported anti-greed/corporate interest in politics protests/anti-corruption movement now spreading across the USA and beyond. Unions, teachers, veterans, and the general public are joining in. I am sure some of the police, who are also having their pensions stripped from them, would also prefer to join in than protect the wealthy.

Lyric of the Day: Panic by The Smiths

Panic on the streets of London
Panic on the streets of Birmingham
I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again?
The Leeds side-streets that you slip down
I wonder to myself
Hopes may rise on the Grasmere
But Honey Pie, you’re not safe here
So you run down
To the safety of the town
But there’s Panic on the streets of Carlisle
Dublin, Dundee, Humberside
I wonder to myself

Burn down the disco
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music that they constantly play
IT SAYS NOTHING TO ME ABOUT MY LIFE
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music they constantly play

On the Leeds side-streets that you slip down
Provincial towns you jog ’round
Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ
Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ
Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ
HANG THE DJ

In a new way

A seashore
Keyboards slowly, pipes
A resonant rumble
The sound of the sea with triangle jingles
The sea is replaced by deep bass, in and out, pulsing

Desolate shores, life forming
Crawling from the waters, adventuring upwards
Towards the sun and the light and the warmth
Away from the murky horrors of the sea
Onwards
It is bound to

The earth is giving birth to the animals, the human people
Energy patterns, beautiful energy patterns
Tingles, jingles and shingle on the shore of the primeval soup
The thick soup is gurgling at me
Ready to spew forth all the misery and beauty it contains
A beat kicks in

Squelchy electric pulses, gentle synths up and down
A beat on a cymbal and perhaps a hand clap
A soundscape that is removed from the soup
It is man’s time, perhaps Eden
No trouble, but a sense of adventure building
The electro squelches are back

The human is wailing gently with the torture of it all
He is living the torture
It hasn’t got him
A voice: consciousness, intelligence, technology spreading in the biology
A xylophone reminds me of China
The singing expressing the soul

Music fading to frogs, water, birds
Matter is energy
Energy + intelligence = matter that allows consciousness
Which allows technology
Which is all the same thing, from the same source

This music is more dramatic
The drum kicks harder
The percussion more regular
Echoing in and out
A distorted drum building up to something
Electronic clashes rush round my mind
Up up up
Drum fills from nowhere

The whole background seems to fade
A woman’s voice I don’t understand
Perhaps an alien
She is beautiful
Wisdom is what you are, knowledge is what you know
And insects right through my head
On an echo of the wind

Entities made of mind
Mandalay
In a new way
In a new way!
Fucking excellent
Words in the realm of the machine
Are not things heard but things seen

Conflicts
Rain like snowflakes
Conceptuality flexes and coils
Alien voices, squelches
A piece of space-coloured gold
To drill holes through

Spinning in space
Watch what we are doing
Do what we are doing
Do it now
This is our destiny
This is what our ancestors struggled to give us

Fading now
No voices, just wind
Two sounds
One deeper
And a distorted loop
An electric helicopter

We tumble back through history
History compacted
Back to a single cell
Evolutionary crossroads
Acceleration and expanding consciousness
Where is the wisdom to control this?
We are in a unique position
Simultaneous senses on five levels

The wind and a synthesiser
We have our own feelings
Despite the world coming to an end
Rhythm
Percussion
Electro bass short and squat
Bass line winds through the drum
And now the gap is raining
THUNDER

A computer from the future
There is no matter here
No rules exist
I welcome the future
Come to me
And let me be!
It is all going to change
Create community
Not imposed from above
Restrictions are self-imposed, from restrictions inherent in the system
See and understand them

A natural drum
A bird
A choir
Afro beat shuffling
Love is the law
Go into it and take a look
You may be surprised

Fire and breeze
Crackling, snapping wood
Return to the earth
The voices chanting
I am no one’s slave
I am no one’s master
I am sorry, Earth
I know what he means
Apologising on behalf of mankind

A new perspective

Lyric of the Day: Taxi Cab – Vampire Weekend

The only thing I don’t like is the title of the song. Everything else – music, lyrics, playing, singing – superb!

Unsentimental
Traveling around
Sure of myself
Sure of it now
But you were standing there so close to me
Like the future was supposed to be
In the aisles of the grocery
And the blocks uptown

I remember
Remember well
But if I’d forgotten
Could you tell?

In the shadow of your first attack
I was questioning and looking back
You said, “Baby we don’t speak of that”
Like a real aristocrat

Compound to compound
Lazy and safe
Wanted to leave it
Wanted to wait
When the Taxi door was open wide
I pretended I was horrified
By the uniform and gloves outside
Of the courtyard gate

You’re not a victim
But neither am I
Nostalgic for garbage
Desperate for time
I could blame it on your mother’s hair
Or the colors that your father wears
But I know that I was never fair
You were always fine

Unsentimental
Traveling around
Sure of myself
Sure of it now
But you were standing there so close to me
Like the future was supposed to be
In the aisles of the grocery
And the blocks uptown

I remember
Remember well
But if I’d forgotten
Could you tell?

In the shadow of your first attack
I was questioning and looking back
You were standing on another track
Like a real aristocrat

 

Full length version of Beastie Boys – Fight For Your Right (Revisited)

Full length version of Beastie Boys – Fight For Your Right (Revisited)

This may be the craziest half hour I’ve spent on the u toobe. Mild anarchy! A-list cameos! Dodgy acting! Will Ferrell playing cowbell! Spraying! (of more than one kind).

“They can’t even untie a f__ing dance mat”

Lyric of the Day: In the waiting line – Zero 7

Do you believe
In what you see?
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real.

Wait in line
‘Till your time
Ticking clock
Everyone stop

Everyone’s saying different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone’s saying different things to me
Different things to me

Do you believe
In what you see
There doesn’t seem to be anybody else who agrees with me

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe in
What you see

Nine to five
Living lies
Every day
Stealing time
Everyone’s taking everything they can
Everything they can
Everyone’s taking everything they can
Everything they can

Do you believe
In what you feel
It doesn’t seem to be anybody else who agrees with me

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see

And I’ll shout and I’ll scream
But I’d rather not have seen
And I’ll hide away for another day

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see

Everyone’s saying different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone’s taking everything they can
Everything they can

Lyric of the Day: Ask – The Smiths

My Lyric of the Day posts are usually chosen by a lyric that’s in my head when I wake up, or by particularly relevant line or two, like yesterday’s yellow moon on the rise, or today’s spending warm summer days indoors. (Although it is still spring; in my mind the lyric was warm sunny days…)  So many good lines in this song. I just read a funny forum where people are saying: those lyrics are wrong, it should be the bond that will bring us together. Fortunately it is asserted that bomb is correct. Then someone says: no, it’s bong.

I enjoyed this live version. Apparently the audio is dubbed on from the Rank live recording.

Shyness is nice and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
You’d like to

Shyness is nice and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
You’d like to

So, if there’s something you’d like to try
If there’s something you’d like to try
Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

Coyness is nice, and
Coyness can stop you
From saying all the things in
Life you’d like to

So, if there’s something you’d like to try
If there’s something you’d like to try
Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

Spending warm Summer days indoors
Writing frightening verse
To a buck-toothed girl in Luxembourg

Ask me, ask me, ask me
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Because if it’s not Love
Then it’s the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together

Nature is a language – can’t you read ?
Nature is a language – can’t you read ?

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Because if it’s not Love
Then it’s the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together

If it’s not Love
Then it’s the bomb
Then it’s the bomb
That will bring us together

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Lyric of the Day: Yellow Moon on the Rise – Neil Young

Yellow moon rising tonight, the night before it’s full:

There is a town in north Ontario
With dream comfort memory to spare
And in my mind I still need a place to go
All my changes were there

Blue, blue windows behind the stars
Yellow moon on the rise
Big birds flying across the sky
Throwing shadows on our eyes

Leave us
Helpless, helpless, helpless
Baby can you hear me now
The chains are locked and tied across the door,
Baby, sing with me somehow

Blue, blue windows behind the stars
Yellow moon on the rise
Big birds flying across the sky
Throwing shadows on our eyes

Leave us
Helpless, helpless, helpless
Helpless, helpless, helpless
Helpless, helpless, helpless
Helpless, helpless, helpless

Lyric of the day: Beastie Boys – That’s It That’s All

On a b-boys tip a mad minute before the new album next month. From what I can tell from one track and 30 seconds of another, it’s going to be more of an organic sound, perhaps like Check Your Head era. But I could be crazy wrong. Name another group who have stayed this fresh for more than 25 years.

This track is a classic, with so many great rhymes. The one which struck me personally this morning:

Don’t underrate how I operate.

And the funniest (and there’s nearly always a lot of funniness in Beastie Boys songs):

I’m a freaky streaker like Winnie the Pooh
T-shirt and no pants and I dance the bugaloo

And the most sublime:

The time and place for the mind is here and now

All this variety in one song? That’s fresh, for you.

Video is from a DVD menu

Back on the scene for ya’ll people’s delight
You want peace for the people then ya say alright
‘Cause George W’s got nothing on me
We got to take the power from he
When I’m on the mic I feel good to go
Like a snow day for school with hot cocoa
So don’t speak what I heard, just say what I know
And my zodiac sign is Scorpio
Look what the cat dragged in
The creme de la creme without the skin
So take a rest and mind your own biz

And that’s it that’s all that’s all there is

Fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you
That’s fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you

One for Brooklyn, two for Manhattan
Let’s go to work, get those hands clappin’
Make you bounce, rock, roll and skate
Don’t underrate how I operate
It ain’t what you say, it’s what you mean
Intention leads to action, that is my theme
So pay attention now as I begin to recap
Puttin’ words and ideas stacked back to back

Some rhymes go flat, well mine go fizz
I got no time for the drama ’cause stress is for kids
‘Cause when you’re dead and buried well you got no biz

And that’s it that’s all that’s all there is

Fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you
That’s fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you

Brand new

The time and place for the mind is here and now
Keep the mind present less to worry about
But like the hammer to the nail hit the nail on the head
Well I don’t shoot blanks and I don’t shoot lead
Well I’m a freaky streaker like Winnie the Pooh
T-shirt and no pants and I dance the bugaloo
Like George Whipple on New York One
Got a hairy ass and that’s no fun
I’m in the rhyme zone a different time zone
And on the microphone you know that I’m at home
It’s time we looked past all our differences
An’ that’s it that’s all that’s all there is
Come on

Fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you
That’s fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you

An’ that’s
Fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you
That’s fresh…fresh…fresh…for you…for you…for you

Lyric of the day: Beastie Boys – Right Right Now Now

Especially for those in the UK filling out your Census, check out MCA’s race. I filled mine today. When it asked what I consider my nationality to be, I put ‘Other – None’. Same for religion. I heard if you put Jedi, they’ll still count you as religious, so None it is.

Once upon a time up on this mic
MC’s be really workin’ on what they write
With the sound delight we rock all night
And yes we’re gonna party for the right to fight
We’re international like Matt Takei
Rock the mic from Munich out to Taipei
Still around the way is where we’ll stay
Say what we mean, mean what we say
Trajectories from the past are taking their toll and
What we do now is future moulding
Columbine bowling, childhood stolen
We need a bit more gun controlling

Right, Right, Now, Now
What is goin’ on?
We gotta get it goin’ on
Before it’s Too Far Gone
We gotta work together, it’s been too long

When I get on you scream “Hoo Tight!”
Rockin’ this flow I could go all night
I’m not here to fight, or incite
I’m like the beach in the Bahamas make you feel alright
I’m getting kind of tired of the situation
The US attacking other nations
And narration, on every station
False election’s got me losing my patience
I’m a funky-ass Jew and I’m on my way
And yes I got to say fuck the KKK
And oh yeah hey, how about today?
If you want to set it off then let me hear you say

Right, Right, Now, Now
What is goin’ on?
We gotta get it goin’ on
Before it’s Too Far Gone
We gotta work together, it’s been too long

I went to get a loan and they asked my race
I wrote down human inside the space
It’s a disgrace how they try to debase
It ain’t the bank’s damn business how my lineage trace
Now let me drop a verse that’s terse and concise
I’m an iron chef when I slice and dice
With the rhyme precise, the word is nice
So please pass me the Reunite on ice
Well let’s go to work and not beserk
‘Cause when the time comes the body goes to dirt
Try to smooth it out like Levert
Keep the mind alert and not revert

Right, Right, Now, Now
What is goin’ on?
We gotta get it goin’ on
Before it’s Too Far Gone
We gotta work together, it’s been too long

Lyric of the Day: What A Waste – Ian Dury & The Blockheads

I could be the driver an articulated lorry
I could be a poet, I wouldn’t need to worry
I could be the teacher in a classroom full of scholars
I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs

What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First night nerves every one night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind

(Schtum)

I could be a lawyer with stratagems and ruses
I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises
I could be a writer with a growing reputation
I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway station

What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First night nerves every one night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind

I could be the catalyst that sparks the revolution
I could be an inmate in a long-term institution
I could lead to wide extremes, I could do or die
I could yawn and be withdrawn and watch them gallop by

What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First night nerves every one night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind

Chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First night nerves every one night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined

What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind
What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind

Chose to play the fool in a six-piece band
First night nerves every one night stand
I should be glad to be so inclined
What a waste! What a waste!
Rock and roll don’t mind

1978

Justin Bieber: Your Obsessive Love Or Hatred Of Me Means Nothing In The Grand Scheme Of Geological Time

In many ways, grasping the infinitesimal speck humanity constitutes is a source of great comfort. Even while I am in the midst of recording vocals in the studio or appearing on a daytime television program, it is admittedly seductive to stop for a moment and stare unblinking into the void and consider that, in terms of the ever-widening parabola made by the imperceptible slowing of Earth’s axis, soon everything—this planet, the moon, myself, the Milky Way galaxy, Usher, and all of your pointless mooning and disdain—will be forever silenced by the unstoppable spiral into total entropy.

Even the faintest memory of my dear, sweet friend Ellen DeGeneres will be swallowed by the cataclysmic crush of all matter collapsing in on itself.

I suppose we’ve come to the point where we should just plainly state the ugly truth of all this: If you expend any energy at all either obsessively doting on me or hating me with the very fiber of your being, then I’m sad to say you are squandering your brief window as a cognizant being in this universe. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you how better to use your comically tiny duration of sentience. Perhaps tell your family you love them; ponder the intricate beauty of a dew-flecked spiderweb; listen to Nicki Minaj’s very good studio debut Pink Friday. In the end, however, none of these things will matter all that much either, not in the great and widening chasm of geological time—let alone when one considers the age of the cosmos from which it has sprung. But maybe in these ways you can draw a brief moment of respite from the existential dread. Ultimately, I believe that this is all one can reasonably hope for.

There is no God.

via Your Obsessive Love Or Hatred Of Me Means Nothing In The Grand Scheme Of Geological Time | The Onion – America’s Finest News Source.

Meanwhile in 1997, listening to drum & bass

DJ Hype on the mix with some mental drum & bass. The candles are going crazy to the music but if I turned the music off they’d still be going crazy. Not too impressed, averagely hectic, great bass lines. I like the bass lines – lovely, jokey – although the beats are bog standard.

What the hell does it mean
Mr Bigwig
Give me two sycamore seeds
I’ll plant one by the ocean and one by the lake
Charlie and Bill
And lick their leaves I will
Salty and not salty

Bing bing bing bing
dum dum
eerrgh eergh
ooh ooh ooh
dur dur dur dur

Drum & Bass. This is mad music and probably IMPOSSIBLE to relax to. But that’s not what it’s for I don’t expect

Your Debut Album

Here’s mine:

The rules:

1. Go to Wikipedia and click Random Article

The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2. Go to http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album

3. Go to flickr’s “explore the last seven days” http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
Third picture, no matter what, is your album cover.

Put it all together to make the album cover

110223 Deadhead

I feel the best I’ve felt for over a week. The dizziness is subsiding and I’m way more centred, stronger. Thanks for all the well wishes. I went over to Alresford where C gave me an acupuncture treatment, clearing out damp in my system. I felt the effects immediately, a clear head and integration taking place as I lay on the massive sofa. I’m tired though, so plenty of sleep tonight.

Continuing the Everest odyssey, I’ve been reading Lincoln Hall’s book ‘Dead Lucky’. Regular readers will remember Lincoln is the guy who was left for dead with cerebral oedema at 8,300 meters and yet somehow survived the night to be discovered the next morning. “I imagine you are surprised to see me here,” he cheerfully announced to four climbers on their way to the summit at dawn. Here’s a ten minute interview with the legendary Lincoln Hall:

Really liking the new Radiohead song and video. The choreography is by Wayne McGregor. In my ignorance of dance I assumed there was no choreography:

Beyonce Single Ladies version:

Steps stepped: 3817