Bier de Stone (blanketsin.com) wrote,
Bier de Stone
blanketsin.com

Obsession

(click for illustration)

I cannot tell anymore what is a repeat episode on late nite. The description on the TiVo just give a brief description of who's appearing and who's performing. Of course, the year is included, but I think airing a rerun of a show more than one year old would be unusual. So tonight I watched a rerun of Last Call with Carson Daly because I sometimes channel surf the late nite shows for something to TiVo.

This show interviews Kat Dennings, so of course, I'm tuning in. I don't know too much about the indie band scheduled, but I listen to indie 103.1 at work, so I figure that it'll be a band I can digest. Licha told me Kat's her fav newcomer because she's HOT! I can't disagree with that, but I remember her from 40 year old…

So, I got the fire roaring and the six o'clock news just ended (possibly on a sad note); so, I'm not really in the mood for more TV. And I can't even remember why the hell I TiVo'd Carson Daly. I was cursed with a short term memory problem at an early age. So, I click on Carson and advance it to the end so that I can backward track to the band. While I'm doing this, I'm reading the description—oh yeah, Kat's on—but I'll watch the band first, then jump to the beginning and fast forward to Kat.

These rockers, AIRBORN TOXIC EVENT, amazing. Amaaaazing.

Five, six, seven, eight!

All the time, awake
You're still on my mind
But we were on our own
Almost all the time

And she'll step away
For a second or two
And I close my eyes
And I think of you

We were only seventeen
We were holding in our screams
Like we'd torn it from the pages
Of some lipstick girly magazine
And you scratch and turn
And say, "let's burn ourselves up 'til we scream"
Like gasoline

Those tender days
At your mother's house
And your father would find
My hand inside your blouse

But they tell me that
You're married now
Oh my dear, I fear
I can't understand how

We were only seventeen
We were holding back our screams
Like we'd torn our lives from the pages
Of some girly magazines
And you scratch and turn
And say, "let's burn these sheets down to the seams"
Like gasoline

I was only twenty one
I wasn't having any fun
And the words you said
Tore through my head
Like bullets from a gun
And I shoulda just shown up and said,
"Get in this car, let's run"

And these years have seen
So many imitations turning green
Each like the last, they go right past,
Like credits on a screen
But your memory blazes through me
Burning everything
Like gasoline
Like gasoline
Like gasoline
while you listen to the song—I cried (for clarification, my tear ducts are overactive, but if I say "cry", I don't mean pout. Just overly moist eyeballs) because, what can I say, I love that hillbilly sound—BUT THEN I READ THE LYRICS. I couldn't stop, after finding the lyrics online and replaying this song until 2AM. FUCK! I should say, I worked the night shift today, so I didn't catch the news until eightish.

Who is that girl? She looks like a female version of OZZY OZBOURNE? I love the attire this band sports, especially the violinist's dress. She has oh-so-sexy a hairstyle, and here I'm thinking she could hair dance a bit more during her dancing breaks while she doesn't play her fiddle for this perky song. BUT, oh no… she reminds me of… When she does play, she seems to be anxious to match that key in which the lead singer of the band sings in, rather his natural speaking voice. I can't keep my eyes off her legs. I've never seen such smooth legs in high heels shaking up a jig in a punk fashion. Must be the most smoothest legs I have ever seen. Have I succeeded to describe my infatuation with this perky tune? Do you remember an 80's song, Come on Eileen, by Dexy's midnight runners? That's what this song reminds me of, and it's about time somebody did for the fiddle what that song did back in my adolescence.

Gams. Oh those gams. Gams gams gams, good god, and more gams. I haven't seen Nick & Nora's infinite play list yet. Damn, I don't think it's in theaters anymore. Buy it? Sure thing. I'll be at Amoeba Music trading in my duds for AIRBORN TOXIC EVENT's new CD this January.


Tags: films, illustration, music
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