Goatsnake
I

THE REVIEW

Start the engine. I know it's very hot. The sun is unforgiving and the sand is scorching.

Turn the damn key. Look closely at the pedal, the one on the right. It's the only one you'll need. Good. Now go. Start. The temperature keeps rising and the only solution is to roll down the window and press your right foot on the pedal. The air begins to circulate in the cabin. But it's the desert, my friend.

The sun is unforgiving.

The music is slow and the blues keeps getting torn apart by Anderson's guitar neck.

Heavy Blues beaten and abused.

Dissolved in acid and rewritten.

We don't care about the sweat. We're alone and the car is now speeding. Despite the parched throat and dry lips, how can we resist yet another cigarette? You say your vision is getting blurry? We're alone and the asphalt stretches straight for miles. I don't see the problem. Of all the senses, I've always thought sight was the least useful.

Follow the bass and don't give up, not now, damn it.

I search with my eyes for the butt flicked out of the window and wonder who, between the ember of my Lucky Strike and the asphalt, must have gotten burnt.

The sun is unforgiving.

To be sure, I turn up the volume. Peter Stahl sings. I think that a voice like that I couldn't bring out even with a sawn-off pointed at the jewels, such is the soul the guy spits out. From the stomach, without growling, without wheezing. He sings. I turn it up more. You, just drive. You can rant all you want, I can't hear you.

California's low and slow metal. Nothing else.

Head abandoned, it dangles. It's only there because it's hanging by the neck. Like me. I'm only here because gravity dictates it. It's not easy to mess with gravity.

Stoner - Doom in the brain. Pure ether. Self-coincidence and immanence of knowledge. This helps.

I turn toward the driver's seat. Empty. You've bailed, but the ride, it can't be stopped. The door, open, looks like a sail of red sheet metal lost in a sea of dust. Clouds of sand. "Trower". We're at the final chapter and another cigarette won't hurt me. "What Love Remains?"