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The music video at the bottom of this post, which is one of the best I’ve ever seen, is NSFW. In response, here’s a scene-for-scene transcript for those morally handcuffed by a 9 to 5. Enjoy.

The cosmos is all there is,

or ever was,

or ever will be.

The cosmos is also within us,

we are made of stars.

We are about to begin a journey through the cosmos,

through the story of our own planet,

and the plants and animals that share it with us.

It’s a story about us.

We wish to pursue the truth

no matter where it leads.

But to find the truth we need

imagination and skepticism first.

We are going to explore the cosmos

in the ship of imagination.

Perfect as a snowflake,

light as a feather.

The ship will take us to the world of dreams,

and worlds of facts.

Come with me.

  1. Pablo Díaz-Reixa loads a Golden Cassette into a skeet shooter, which he then launches like a glittering canary into the sunlit future valley.
  2. The Golden Cassette ends its fancy-free flight abrubtly against an urban curb. It’s retrieved by a girl equally as golden and twice as nude. She gingerly inserts the Golden Cassette into a Golden Boombox.
  3. Pablo Díaz-Reixa records the sonic musings of a roadside bush.
  4. A mysterious man lifts an enormous rock.
  5. A young lady licks a forked tree branch against the sky.
  6. A dirtbike drives in circles around Pablo Díaz-Reixa while he records the buzz of its 2-stroke engine.
  7. A young lady leaps bottom-first into a supple sofa. Pablo Díaz-Reixa records the union of keister and cushion.
  8. A seated schoolgirl hoists her peach-colored skirt to expose today’s quiz written upon her bare thigh.
  9. A young woman faces away from the camera. With the thumb and index of her left hand she displays an eyeball to the audience.
  10. A leather-banded, topless brunette shoots an arrow with the aid of a simple bow.
  11. Two women in white lace dresses relax in the shallows of a calm lake.
  12. A woman with large glasses. A mirror reflecting Pablo Díaz-Reixa shatters. The woman’s glasses show a compound fracture in the left lens.
  13. A women removes her blouse in front of a cheap oil painting featuring tumultuous seas. She’s handed two sparklers and proceeds to shake vigorously.
  14. A showering, smoking explosion occurs two meters above the floor of a dark forest clearing.
  15. A man in a black shirt portages a bolt-action rifle at a sprint into the depths of a refreshing cement pool.
  16. Two men with gigantic fluorescent bulbs swing at one another, causing their bulbs to shatter in fantastic fashion.
  17. A crowd of technicolor peasants marches solemnly in X-formation across a desert.
  18. A young lady with red fingernails creates bubbles in a tall glass of milk with a bendy straw. The creamy froth overflows upon her smooth thigh.
  19. A large black ball drops aggressively in a black bucket. Blue liquid violently erupts from its confines.
  20. A short-denimed woman passionately kisses a nobleman’s marble statue.
  21. A lace-bloused woman sensuously performs CPR upon a similar woman whilst half submerged on a shallow shore.
  22. A crystal ball succumbs a dark forest’s rolling fog.
  23. A manhand takes possession of a woman’s stockinged thigh.
  24. A manhand commandeers a woman’s gold anklet.
  25. A woman severs the hip of her white cotton panties with an intimidating hunting knife. The result is a spectacular display of flesh.
  26. A raven-haired, bespectacled lady sucks on another’s big toe.
  27. A ghastly white-faced, white-haired figure pirouettes on white rollerskates through a shadowy discotheque.
  28. A movie theatre crawls with of furries.
  29. Masked banditos abscond with a prized calico rabbit down the alley of a Spanish barrio.
  30. Topless revolucionarias discover Pablo Díaz-Reixa hiding in bushes and give him a swift kick in the ass.
  31. A redhead and sandy blonde flash commuters from the overpass of a major highway.
  32. Nude women don bandanas with true stick-em-up flair.
  33. Pablo Díaz-Reixa records the mating of two chickens and one man on a queen-size bed.
  34. A wavy-haired tweezer falls victim to a chloroform assault.
  35. Potted flowers hold court on the edge of the racquet’s domain.
  36. Two topless women skim for pennies at the base of a small inland spring.
  37. A woman pursues what appears to be an infantile bull shark in waters it’d never call its own.
  38. An ancient candle long-melted upon and around a woman’s hand.
  39. A prudish woman lights her smoke with the flame of an eternal raven.
  40. Chickens that never were crash upon a maiden’s brow in ecstasy.
  41. Liquid blue flame dances harmlessly upon El Mano.
  42. A woman balances 14 towels precariously upon her left shoulder while lighting a cigarette. Towels tumble pathetically.
  43. Dr. Menendez instructs a blonde to perform the basic motor skills test of touching one’s left index finger to the tip of the nose.
  44. Pablo Díaz-Reixa swears an oath to a new age priest upon a paperback biography of Dutch soccer legend Johan Cruyff. The priest etches a single line upon Pablo Díaz-Reixa’s hand with a thick black marker.
  45. A leather-clad nomad pleads with invisible gods in a shallow, sandy billabong.
  46. A leather-caped woman runs from a dark hollow. She’s horrified to find a skull posted upon a tree at eye level.
  47. A trenchcoated woman sits with her head nestled sideways on a wooden table. Upon her temple rests a shallow saucer. A handled spoon enters, taking its share of the saucer’s creamy contents.
  48. Three women in white cotton dresses dance against he dying light of a setting sun.
  49. A brunette breathes in the light of a glowing crystal ball.
  50. A checkered-tweed hombre offers the seat of a red 10-speed to a mamasita in a short skirt, yellow scarf, and black stockings. As she mounts her metal steed her undies become the very intentional center of attention.
  51. An irregular polyhedron composed of straws sits oddly on a concrete floor.
  52. A hairbrush/mophead hybrid rests in juxtaposition with an aluminum tray filled with cigarette butts.
  53. Colored cotton balls on long, thin dowels protrude from a clump of silver tinsel.
  54. A man rides through an underpass on a beach cruiser at high speed. He is trailed by sparks.
  55. A 50/50 grind down the nose of a Crown Victoria taxi.
  56. A woman engulfed in blue forest smoke.
  57. In a darkened locker room a shirtless man shoots a stuffed panda in the head using a semiautomatic pistol.
  58. A skeleton emerges from beneath a bed to grab a woman’s ankle as she plants her foot on a thick rug.
  59. A large branch is struck against a calm lake surface, creating a shimmering rainbow spray.
  60. A pair of legs kicks wildly while trapped under an immense pile of laundry.
  61. A wall sprouts an arm that reaches aimlessly for a pair of audio samplers.
  62. A man extends his index finger wildly through his zipper to simulate a wiggling penis.
  63. A paper-bagged woman plays a piano.
  64. A back lot cowboy murders a white plywood box.
  65. Two women in white satin dresses attempt mutual homicide in a lake.
  66. Two nude women ride bicycles slowly away from the camera.
  67. Two women’s hair twists together to form a single French braid. The woman on the braid’s right tickles the woman on the left’s ear.
  68. A woman licks a forked branch once again.
  69. A man in white briefs stuffs a second pair of briefs down a vacuum hose. He then proceeds to stick the vacuum hose down his own briefs.
  70. A woman again smashes yet-to-be chickens on her brow.
  71. A man bent over a desk. Several books stacked upon the small of his back. Smooth, colorful stones placed in an oval near his mouth. Pablo Díaz-Reixa eats one of these stones with chopsticks.
  72. A man in a red long-sleeved shirt drowns beautifully.
  73. Pastel Klanswomen roam a dry, grassy hillside.
  74. A shirtless gladiator in black spandex thrusts his broadsword triumphantly toward the heavens.
  75. A beautiful nude Golden Girl fondles a Golden Cassette.

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Download The Album From Vinyl

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Tracklist

A1 Bombay 3:39
A2 Novias 3:23
A3 Ghetto Fácil 2:44
A4 Soca Del Eclipse 4:10
A5 Lycra Mistral 3:49
B1 FM Tan Sexy 3:42
B2 Muerte Midi 3:47
B3 (Chica-Oh) Drims 3:39
B4 Danza Invinto 5:07


This is the music that vagrants hear as they sit on the sidewalk barking wildly at some unseen specter. It’s not that they’re crazy. We’re all a little crazy–there’s no difference there between them and us on that front. It’s that they’ve had their circuits fried. Their motherboard, their cpu, their neuronet processor. Somewhere along the line some sort of liquid or cheeky solid passed through their epidermis, through the subcutaneous membrane, beyond the skull, and on into the grey maze. The result is that they constantly hear the purely synthesized whisperings of Matmos.

See, we’re all just a bunch of electrodes, diodes, and Didos. Any of us could wind up sitting on a city street wearing a large, fur-lined parka on a hot summer day eating a hot dog out of an Asics crosstrainer. We really could. All it would take is a faulty fire suppression system and the correct head tilt and poof, you’re trying to sell one-way subway tickets to men in Armani suits under direction from the Supreme Balloon.

Just look at these people. They were once law-abiding, God-fearing citizens that paid taxes on fairly nice houses. And they didn’t eat out of garbage cans while receiving auditory transmissions of over 17,000hz.

Take a look at Frank here.

Hey there, Frank.

He was once a respected firemen for Baltimore Engine #9. That is until he responded to a kitchen fire on Fleet Street shortly after lunch time on a clear summer day. The fire turned out to be nothing really, just a small grease deal he and the boys quickly subdued. Afterward, Frank and his crew took the time to unwind in the air-conditioned kitchen and hit on the sexy raven-haired mama who phoned in the emergency.

In the apartment next door two 9-year-olds, whose mothers were both out working minimum wage as baggers at Safeway, popped a can of WD-40 in the microwave on high for 10 minutes. They just wanted to see it dance, just like their previously tested compact disc of Drake’s “Thank Me Later” had, but their hypothesized effect couldn’t have been more wrong.

The resulting explosion vaporized the microwave, pulverized the wall separating the two apartments, and shot the WD-40’s red applicator straw, along with a good amount of the industrial lubricant itself, right down a tear duct on Frank’s unshielded face. It settled nicely between his two lumpy hemispheres without leaving a single outward indication of  injury.

He was never the same after that day but no one, especially Frank, could explain why. That little straw didn’t show up on any of the CATS, MRIs, or what-have-yous at John Hopkins. Everyone figured Frank just lost his nerve at the explosion, it rattled his cage, sent a screw loose.

But that WD-40, along with the applicator straw, went to work at crossing all sorts of wires through Franks brain, literally.  Now he spends his day wearing a Halloween fireman costume while spraying his hose into the orifices of any unlucky soul who happens to cross underneath the deadly 242-volt light post at the corner of W. Fayette & N. Hanover.

Despite the loss of family and friends, Frank still feels blessed thanks to the continuous loop of “Mister Mouth” that guides his conscience.

********

Meet Muriel, former curator of French Culture at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

Oh hi Muriel.

One night Muriel stayed particularly late reviewing and cataloging the new additions from the Fisher Collection. She’d spent all day on the phone with Jean-Paul Sartre regarding the works of Alexander Calder and had completely forgotten to take in lunch and dinner. A diabetic since early childhood, Muriel needed to get a quick snack to boost her blood sugar.

Unfortunately for Muriel, the café at the MOMA was closed and she found herself without any bills or change for the vending machine. She quickly locked up her office, grabbed her things, and disembarked at 11:13 with a very light head on a snack-finding mission.

However, at every corner store she came to the story was always the same—cash only and no ATM. At the fourth shop she, beginning to see dancing silver snowflakes on her periphery, even resorted to begging. The cashier took no pity on this Yves Saint Laurent-drenched bourgeoisie and sent her hiking.

Wandering without aim, Muriel eventually stumbled upon the Carl’s Jr. at Civic Center Plaza. She had barely teetered through the doorway when a large Oreo shake struck her upon the right temple, demolishing any balance left in her system. She took one good gallop to the left, countered hard to the right, and collapsed miserably like the Maginot line.  There she rested in a diabetic coma as the result of blunt sugar trauma.

The fast food brawl that produced the ballistic Oreo shake quickly subsided–it’s rumored that cashier Crystal Ruiz was messin’ around with Carl’s Jr. patron La-a Johnson’s baby daddy right out in the open. But Muriel remained on the floor for a good hour while hungry San Franciscans inelegantly clomped over her body to fetch Frisco Melts. During that time the runny Oreo slurry, packed with all types of supposedly manmade fillers, slowly filtered into Muriel’s ear. This unnatural goo ate through the drum, devoured the brain stem, and continued to engorge itself on the entirety of her cultured brain.

Now Muriel is known as Madam Tenderloin: Meat Pleaser of Knob Hill. She does her darnedest for man or beast in beat with the neverending intracranial soundtrack of “Les Folies Françaises.”

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>>>CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD SUPREME BALLOON FROM VINYL

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I’d never heard of Josh White until I bought this album. This only snuck into my collection because the cover jumped out at me and, at a single dollar, I couldn’t resist.  After reading the gatefold I feel that painting did a terrific job at capturing the man’s prodigious swagger.

Josh always had a great style, as a man and as a performer. He had a kind of imperiousness that used to make audiences shut up and listen. God, how he could stare an audience down! He was there to sing, and if people at the tables were talking, he’d hold a post, cigarette behind the ear, foot on the chair, guitar at the ready, and wait until his silence reached out like a living force and whammied the people to attention. Then he’d begin. He was a black man making his way in a white man’s world, he knew he had something everybody out to hear, and he was to be heard, on his own terms.

-Lee Hays & Don McClean

I’m going to do something I don’t know normally do and compose this post almost entirely of Wikipedia excerpts. Now, don’t click away just yet. This man’s story is immensely interesting and a true portrait of the (mostly losing) struggle for free speech in America. In these excerpts you’ll find Josh leading blind guitarists across the U.S. as a barefoot child, portraying Blind Lemon in the story of John Henry on Broadway, serenading the Roosevelts at the White House, and ultimately being blacklisted during the Red Scare.

Of course, in true blues fashion, the story ends with Josh White broken down, both in career and health, and in the grave before his time. He lived a hard life, made beautiful music, and is up there with Ray Charles, Johnny Cash, or any other musician who’s had his life turned into a feature-length film.

So, get comfortable, sit back, and breeze through the beautifully tragic life of Josh White and his sad, sad guitar.

Sorry, no song previews as of yet. Posting previews is getting more and more of a bitch because of electronic copy”right” protection.

Joshua Daniel White (February 11, 1914 – September 5, 1969), better known as Josh White, was an American singer, guitarist, songwriter, actor, and civil rights activist. He also recorded under the names “Pinewood Tom” and “Tippy Barton” in the 1930s.

White also became the closest African-American friend and confidant to president Franklin D. Roosevelt. However, White’s anti-segregationist and international human rights political stance presented in many of his recordings and in his speeches at rallies resulted in the right-wing McCarthyites assuming him a Communist. Accordingly, from 1947 through the mid 1960s, White became caught up in the anti-Communist Red Scare, and combined with the resulting attempt to clear his name, his career was damaged. White’s playing style influenced many future generations of guitarists, including Blind Boy Fuller, Brownie McGhee, Pete Seeger, Lena Horne, Nat King Cole, Harry Belafonte, Lonnie Donegan, Eartha Kitt, Alexis Korner, Odetta, Elvis Presley, The Kingston Trio, the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, Merle Travis, Dave Van Ronk, Peter, Paul and Mary, Bob Dylan, Eric Weissberg, Judy Collins, Mike Bloomfield, Danny Kalb, Roger McGuinn, David Crosby, Richie Havens, Don McLean, Roy Harper, Ry Cooder, John Fogerty, Eva Cassidy and Jack White.

Two months after his father’s death, Joshua left home with a blind, black street singer named Blind Man Arnold, who he had agreed to lead across the South to collect coins after performances. Arnold would then send White’s mother two dollars a week. Arnold soon realized that he could profit from this gifted boy who quickly learned to dance, sing, and play the tambourine. Over the next eight years, he rented the boy’s services out to 66 different blind street singers, including Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Blake, and Blind Joe Taggart, and in time young Joshua quickly mastered the varied guitar stylings all his blind masters. In order to appear sympathetic to the onlookers tossing coins, the old men kept Joshua shoeless and in ragged short pants till he was sixteen years old. At night he would have to sleep in the cotton fields or in the horse stables, often on an empty stomach, while his master slept in a black hotel.

In February of 1936, he punched his left hand through a glass door during a bar fight, and the hand became infected with gangrene. White was advised by doctors to amputate the hand, and White repeatedly refused. Amputation was averted, but his chording hand was left immobile. Afterwords, he retreated from his recording career to become a dock worker, an elevator operator, and a building superintendent. During the time when his hand was lame, he squeezed a small rubber ball to try and revive it.

One night during a card game, White’s left hand was revived completely; and he immediately began practicing his guitar, and soon put together a group called “Josh White & His Carolinians” with his brother Billy and close friends Carrington Lewis, Sam Gary, and Bayard Rustin. They soon began playing private parties in Harlem. At one of these parties, on New Year’s Eve 1938, Leonard DePaur, a Broadway choral director, was intrigued by Josh’s singing. For the past six months, DePaur and the producers of the Broadway musical in development, John Henry, had been searching America for an actor/singer/guitarist to play the lead role of Blind Lemon, a street minstrel who would wander back and forth across the stage narrating the story in song. Their initial auditions with native New York singers proved to be unsuccessful, so they looked through previous race record releases to find a suitable artist. They eventually narrowed their search down to two people, “Pinewood Tom” and “The Singing Christian”, both used as pseudonyms by White.

After months of rehearsals and out-of-town productions in Philadelphia and Boston, John Henry opened on Broadway on January 10, 1940, with Paul Robeson as John Henry and Joshua White as Blind Lemon. Although the musical did not have long run, it helped jumpstart his career. Soon thereafter, Josh began working with Woody Guthrie, Lead Belly, Burl Ives, and The Golden Gate Quartet in a CBS radio series Back Where I Come From, written by folk song collector Alan Lomax and directed by Nicholas Ray.

Josh and Libby frequently requested the War Department to send them overseas during World War II to give USO concert performances for the troops. However, despite a Letter of Recommendation from Eleanor Roosevelt, they were constantly rejected as “too controversial”, considering that the U.S. Armed Forces were still segregated throughout World War II.

Throughout the 1940s, as a major matinée idol with magnetic sexual charisma and a commanding stage presence, White not only was an international star of recordings, concerts, nightclubs, radio, film, and Broadway, he also achieved a unique position for an African-American of the segregated era by becoming accepted and befriended by white society, aristocracy, European royalty, and America’s ruling family, The Roosevelts.

In January 1941, Josh performed at the President’s Inauguration. Upon completing that first White House Command Performance, the Roosevelts invited White up to their private chambers, where they spent more than three hours talking about Josh’s life story of growing up in Jim Crow South, listening to his songs written about those experiences, and drinking Café Royale (coffee and brandy).

At one point during that evening, the President said to Josh, “You know Josh, when I first heard your song `Uncle Sam Says,’ I thought you were referring to me as Uncle Sam….Am I right?” White responded, “Yes Mr. President, I wrote that song to you after seeing how my brother was treated in the segregated section of Fort Dix army camp. . . However that wasn’t the first song I wrote to you. . . In 1933, I wrote and recorded a song called `Low Cotton,’ about the plight of Negro cotton pickers down South, and in the lyrics I made an appeal directly to you to help their situation.”

The President, interested and impressed at the candor of his response, then asked Josh to sing those songs to him again. A friendship developed, five more Command Performances would follow, in addition to two appearances at the Inaugurations of 1941 and 1945; and the Josh White family would spend many Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with the Roosevelts at their Hyde Park, New York mansion .

Josh White had reached the zenith of his career when touring with Eleanor Roosevelt on a celebrated and triumphant Goodwill tour of Europe. He had been hosted by the continent’s prime ministers and royal families, and had just performed before 50,000 cheering fans at Stockholm’s soccer stadium. Amidst this tour, while in Paris in June, 1950, White received a call from Mary Chase, his manager in New York, telling him that Red Channels (who had been sending newsletters to the media since 1947 about White and other artists who they warned as being subversive), had just released and distributed a thick magazine with subversive details regarding 151 artists from the entertainment and media industries who they labeled as Communist Sympathizers. White’s name was prominent on this list. There never had been an official blacklist—until now. White immediately went to discuss the situation with Mrs. Roosevelt—to ask her advice and help. With great empathy, she told him that her voice on his behalf would hinder his efforts to clear his name. She explained that if she wasn’t the widow of the president they would also be crucifying her. She continued that the Right Wing press had been calling her a “pinko”, citing her social activism and friendships with non-whites. That night, White called his manager back and alerted her that he would be flying back to America the next day so that he could clear his name. Upon arriving at New York’s Idlewild Airport, the FBI met him, took him into a Customs holding room, began interrogating him, and held him for hours while waiting word from Washington as to whether Josh White, who was born in America, would be deported back to Europe.

In 1961, White’s health began a sharp decline as he experienced the first of the three heart attacks and the progressive heart disease that would plague him over his final eight years. As a lifelong smoker he also had progressive emphysema, in addition to ulcers, and severe psoriasis in his hands and calcium deficiency in his body that would cause the skin to peel off of his fingers and leave his fingernails broken and bleeding with every concert. During the last two years of his life, as his heart weakened dramatically, his wife Carol would put him in the hospital for four weeks after he completed each two-week concert tour. Finally, the doctors felt his only survival option was to attempt a new procedure to replace heart valves. The surgery failed.

He died on the operating table on September 6, 1969 at the North Shore Hospital in Manhasset, New York.

-Wikipedia

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>>>Click here to download Disc 1

>>>Click here to download Disc 2

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Tracklist

A1. Free and Equal Blues

A2. Where Were You, Baby

A3. You Don’t Know My Mind

A4. Sam Hall

A5. Run, Mona, Run

A6. Timber

A7. Takin’ Names

A8. St. James Infirmary

B1. One Meat Ball

B2. Peter

B3. Jelly, Jelly

B4. Jesus Gonna Make Up My Dyin’ Bed

B5.  Halleleu

B6. Prison Bound Blues

C1. Midnight Special

C2. Told My Captain

C3. Going Home, Boys

C4. Trouble

C5. Silicosis Blues

C6. Southern Exposure

C7. Empty Bed Blues

D1. The Story of John Henry

Brigitte_Bardot_And_Serge_Gainsbourg_-_Bonnie_And_Clyde

*Download  unavailable. YouTube embedding on WordPress disabled by copyright owners. Pick up a copy of this if you can get it for less than $12.

I picked this up a few weeks ago on Record Store Day at the very choice Explorist International, which is  a few blocks from my residence. Several other records made their way into my collection that day but this one is particularly fun. It caught my ear during a visit a few weeks earlier when the shopkeeper was playing it on the store’s soundsystem, and I wanted to buy it at that time. However, I was unemployed and couldn’t justify paying $17 for what I thought was the soundtrack to a French remake of the American Bonnie and Clyde film when I was worried that buying anything other than Safeway discount yogurt was a vulgar extravagance.

Luckily, a steady typing assignment came my way and now I’m hell bent on blowing my paychecks as soon as possible on LPs, EPs, BPs, 3CPOs, and a few rough DPs. This big daddy here is just a lot of fun. It’s goofy, it’s sexy, it’s corny, and above all it’s terribly catchy.

There’s no French version of the Bonnie & Clyde movie, this is just a song about the famously devious couple. In French. And while it doesn’t make much sense it really does work and twerk.

Here are three examples that display the clever little gimmicks which somehow pop completely and absolutely in every song on this album.


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Tracklist

A1 Brigitte Bardot et Serge Gainsbourg – Bonnie And Clyde

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Michel Colombier Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
A2 Brigitte Bardot – Bubble Gum

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
A3 Serge Gainsbourg – Comic Strip

Arranged By, Directed By – David Whitaker
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
A4 Brigitte Bardot – Un Jour Comme Un Autre

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – G. Bourgeois*, J.-M. Rivière*

   
A5 Serge Gainsbourg – Pauvre Lola

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
A6 Serge Gainsbourg – Du Film “L’eau À La Bouche”

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Alain Goraguer, Serge Gainsbourg

   
B1 Serge Gainsbourg – La Javanaise

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Harry Robinson Et Son Orchestre*
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
B2 Brigitte Bardot – La Madrague

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Claude Bolling Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – G. Bourgeois*, J.-M. Rivière*

   
B3 Serge Gainsbourg – Intoxicated Man

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre

Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

   
B4 Brigitte Bardot – Everybody Loves My Baby

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Claude Bolling Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Jack Palmer, Spencer Williams (2)

   
B5 Serge Gainsbourg – Baudelaire

Arranged By, Conductor [Orchestra] – Alain Goraguer Et Son Orchestre
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg
Lyrics By [Sur Un Poème De] – Ch. Baudelaire*

   
B6 Serge Gainsbourg – Docteur Jekyll And Mister Hyde

Directed By – Arthur Greenslade
Written-By – Serge Gainsbourg

Chris Isaak Silvertone Vinyl MP3 320 Flac Wav CD 1985 Wicked Game Heart-Shaped World

Welcome to the 150th album post on Rebuilt Tranny Records. Yes, there are now 150 albums to choose from across the musical, and not-so-musical, spectrum on this site. The majority of these albums are random finds I’ve picked up during my years of vinyl scrounging through musty thrift-store shelves, Midwestern record stores, and scary horse barns. More often than not these weird finds end up being new favorites. Of course, there the few that literally get tossed out of the window like unwieldy frisbees. Try it sometime–it’s very therapeutic.

And then there are albums on my list of must-haves for which I continually hunt. At the top of this list was Chris Isaak’s Silvertone. I guess you could call it my white whale. Well, not really a white whale but more of a white coyote, given its dark western, cursed desert sound. Each and every time I’ve visited a record store for the past few years I’ve made a B-line to the “I” section looking for this mysterious LP. And every time I’d come up with nothing. No Chris Isaak to speak off, let alone Silvertone.

Now, you may be asking yourself, “Why didn’t you just hop on eBay and pick up a copy? You could have saved yourself a bunch of time and avoided many vinyl dust-induced sneezing fits.” To those people I say that yes, many times I thought about PayPaling my way into Silvertone possession. But the more I physically looked, and the longer I put off online gratification, the more determined I became to find this on my own. I became infected with the passion for the hunt.

Anyone can log online and pick up whatever they want from the endless number of fine internet record stores. Many times this is a completely acceptable method for bolstering one’s collection; mainly when pre-ordering albums from a record label’s store. However, the fact that just anyone can pick up anything  at any time online is what I’m getting at. When you point and click your way into a 33.3 rpm dream it takes away from the sense of achievement.

It’s like feeding a lion chopped Filet Mignon in captivity instead of letting it chase down a speedy antelope on the Serengeti. Yes, that steak sure is tasty but the king of the jungle craves the chase as much as the meat.  Spotting a baby antelope in the grass, the feel of hard-packed dirt beneath his claws, using those claws to grasp and tear the prey to shreds. And finally, when that most primal ritual has been fulfilled, the king relishes the taste of hot, wild blood at his leisure. He’s earned this feast–this winning.

The vinyl hunt is very much the same thing. Of course I love that I’ve found this record and have been playing it over. But at the same time it feels even better to know that I earned it. I had to check every possible spot it could be at every single record store. I found Silvertone last week while on my hands and knees searching through a bottom rack of used rock albums at Grooves Inspiralled Vinyl (and also found a sealed copy of Chris Isaak’s 1987 self-titled release for $6). Yes, it was bad for my back but it was good for the soul, god dammit! It’s like finding the Golden Ticket, something you wanted so badly–more than any other boy in this whole wide world!

But yes, I could have had this years ago. What’s the big deal about earning it? Well, let me put it this way: I would have missed out on boatloads of other music had I not been searching for this single, solitary disc. I wouldn’t have had a few laughs with Dr. Demento, never have been introduced to the eerie electronic world of Tomita, and never learned just how badass Canadian trains really are.

Additionally, I wouldn’t have been able to peep into lives of families from the 70s and 80s. Visiting thrift stores and looking through records is almost like looking in on someone’s living room. You can usually discern where each collection begins and ends in the bins, and through this collection you can see what tastes, or lack of, a family had. Oh, this person had a lot of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass–they probably used doilies on their sofa arms and had a room where you couldn’t step on the carpet. These other people had lots of Chicago albums–their house had blown glass sculptures and shag carpet tapestries. Lots 0f Culture Club and Grace Jones in this one–this family had a “confused” son they kicked out of the house when he turned 18.

What would happen if one day your vinyl shelves fell on you while you were looking for that Morrisey bootleg and smooshed the life right out of you?  And what if your vinyl collection was inexplicably turned over to the local Goodwill? What would vinylistas say of your collection? Would they say, “My word, this guy/gal was truly a hunter. Someone with an eye for the unique and a hunger for the divine. He fought the good fight and listened the good listen. Pour one out for this brave hunter! HOORAH, HOORAH, speed the soul of this golden ear to the bosom of the Gods!”

Or would they just flip through, saying, “I have this, have this, lame, lame, have this, boooring,” in the blink of an uncaring eye?

>>>Click here to download Silvertone at 320 kbps

Tracklist

A1 Dancin’ 3:44
A2 Talk To Me 3:04
A3 Livin’ For Your Lover 2:56
A4 Back On Your Side 3:14
A5 Voodoo 2:44
A6 Funeral In The Rain 3:18
B1 The Lonely Ones 3:12
B2 Unhappiness 3:10
B3 Tears 2:44
B4 Gone Ridin’ 2:36
B5 Pretty Girls Don’t Cry 2:24
B6 Western Stars 3:12

Credits

Guitar – James Calvin Wilsey
Producer – Erik Jacobsen
Vocals, Guitar – Chris Isaak
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