To celebrate the release of the new, and truly fantastic, album from the band (Animal Mother, out in some weeks), here a re-up on M of one of my favorite songs any band any period any style. Can't imagine one more relevant to the worst moments I lived in my full-of-anguish nights (and days too unfortunately). The Cioran and Munch's Scream musical equivalent. Nothing to add except to catch this compilation of the 4 versions I gathered on this fake EP here.
Third repost of what is one of my fave song of all the times. Here I gathered the 4 versions I know of this song, in widely different versions. From the most acoustic to the most noisy. My fave is the radio one (the 3rd). I think the lyrics are the most accurate and relevant ever written in rock history for people living with the same sort of brain than mine (and apparently Steve Austin one that year). Compared to that, most of music seems rather useless. I created a streaming with the 4-song pack in the range.
If I repost this fake EP it's because honestly I don't want to post anything unrelevant with my present state of mind, and I don't want to let the blog down too long. Below, what I wrote in the post last May. I can add that I saw Today is the Day play live again last spring and it was pretty terrific once more, although the version of this song has no more the strenght it had when it was composed. It's really a sort of hymn for some of us and, although I won't, as some, tattoo the word on my skin (that I left the way it was when I came to life, except what time has done to it), I'll surely try to make it appear somewhere on my grave or in any personal relics, except of course if I die in some shithole where nobody will find my cadaver.
Let's begin again with what I consider one of the most powerful and moving songs in rock history and which gave its name to an album 13 years ago. The author is Steve Austin, the leader of Today is the Day and only surviving member, the band's constant line up change being not far the Fall's one. I've seen them live 10 days ago here in Paris, and it was, as always, stunning, acoustically deafening and emotionally strong. Now Steve Austin is 45 years old and it's good to see he has crossed all these years and is still as intense as ever when so many mellow with age. I gathered here, under a self-made cover sleeve taken from a fantastic pix by I don't remember who, 4 versions of this song, 2 in their acoustic ones, 2 in their electric ones, all from the 1997 period of its creation. Can't imagine something illustrating more clearly some inner states at night when you feel you will give up and leave this fucking tedious and oppressive world. Don't stay on your old music models. Genius is here too.