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Rating: Take my head, split it in half like a melon, but don't take the headphones off my ears.
"and you open the door... and you step inside"
And look inside:
Rattling visions chasing each other up and down the sewer pipes like big rodents high on crack. The sound of their nervously pattering paws penetrates my ears, slipping like a cold, sharp blade along my eardrum, whipping back my thoughts to the guilt that generated them, and finally, it sits pretty at my brain's control station and then, maybe, I'm better off and dead, as the wise man said.
Frenzied lights, the fluttering wings of a moth twisting in the light of my room that irresistibly attracts it, the dripping of the tap left open in the basement.
Before they went to play Chester Badminton's whores, the Dust Brothers composed this alienated soundtrack for a cult cult movie, known to Italian speakers as the "Circle of Faith" and to Italian-speaking bookworms (!?) as "The Soap Book" (which despite the title, is not written by either Hurricane Carter or Augusten Burroughs).
What is there to say, except = listen to it if you like even numbers?
Well, one could also say: listen to it if you want to know how people from the old millennium expected the music of the new millennium to be (And don't be too upset if they hadn't predicted the coming and revolutionary impact of a band like Coldplay). But I won't say it, because I don't think it might interest anyone; except for those fetishists who buy Rolling Stone or read Scaruffi to find an answer to questions like.. "mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most influential band of them all?".
I say, let me never be complete
I say, may I never be content
I say, deliver me from swedish furniture
I say, deliver me from clever art
I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth
I say you have to give up
I say evolve, and let the chips fall as they may
Welcome to fight club
If this is your first night - You have to fight
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