The Church Of Me
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Kissing in the churchyard, I know a righteous woman

Tuesday, July 23, 2002

Tour manager : Last Exit does carry a certain image. It was really clear in Frankfurt where in contrast to the surroundings and the other bands was really strong.

Sonny Sharrock: Yeah, we did follow them quiet dudes. I'll talk about the motherfuckers, I don't give a shit.

Bill Laswell: Yeah, go ahead, I will too. I'll fight!

Peter Brotzmann: Scofield and Frisell, my God.

Sharrock: Yeah, them dead motherfuckers.

Brotzmann: Oh shit!

Sharrock: No, they're excellent players, man, but that ain't enough. You got to play something. We followed them and we sounded and looked different for sure. There is a style, but it’s just each individual character and how we feel about this band. It's very natural. Peter’s got a tuxedo tonight : that’s how he feels.

Brotzmann: I left it in Wuppertal!

Ensemble choir : I left my tuxedo in Wuppertal!

(Excerpt from Last Exit interview, 1987)

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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The love of life is, in general, the effect not of our enjoyments, but of our passions. We are not attached to it so much for its own sake, or as it is connected with happiness, as because it is necessary to action. Without life there can be no action - no objects of pursuit - no restless desires - no tormenting passions. Hence it is that we fondly cling to it - that we dread its termination as the close, not of enjoyment, but of hope. The proof that our attachment to life is not absolutely owing to the immediate satisfaction we find in it, is, that those persons are commonly found most loath to part with it who have the least enjoyment of it, and who have the greatest difficulties to struggle with, as losing gamesters are the most desperate. And farther, there are not many persons who, with all their pretended love of life, would not, if it had been in their power, have melted down the longest life to a few hours. "The school-boy, " says Addison, "counts the time till the return of the holidays; the minor longs to be of age; the lover is impatient till he is married." - "Hope and fantastic expectations spend much of our lives; and while with passion we look for a coronation, or the death of an enemy, or a day of joy, passing from fancy to possession without any intermediate notices, we throw away a precious year." JEREMY TAYLOR. - We would willingly, and without remorse, sacrifice the present moment, but all the interval (no matter how long) that separates us from any favourite object. We chiefly look upon life, then, as the means to an end. Its common enjoyments and its daily evils are alike disregarded for any idle purpose we have in view. It should seem as if there were a free green sunny spots in the desert of life, to which we are always hastening forward: we eye them wistfully in the distance, and care not what perils or suffering we endure, so that we arrive at them at last. However, weary we may be of the same stale round - however sick of the past - however hopeless of the future - the mind still revolts at the thought of death, because the fancied possibility of good, which always remains with life, gathers strength as it is about to be torn from us for forever, and the dullest scene looks bright compared with the darkness of the grave. Our reluctance to part with existence evidently does not depend on the calm and even current of our lives, but on the force and impulse of the passions. Hence that indifference to death which has been sometimes remarked in people who lead a solitary and peaceful life in remote and barren districts. The pulse of life in them does not beat strong enough to occasion any violent revulsion of the frame when it ceases. He who treads the green mountain turf, or who sleeps beneath it, enjoys and almost equal quiet. The death of those persons has always been accounted happy, who had attained their utmost wishes, who had nothing left to regret or to desire. Our repugnance to death increases in proportion to our consciousness of having lived in vain - to the violence of our efforts and the keenness of our disappointments - and to our earnest desire to find in the future, if possible a rich amends for the past. We may be said to nurse our existence with the greatest tenderness, according to the pain it has cost us; and feel at every step of our varying progress the truth of that line of the poet -

"An ounce of sweet is worth a pound of sour."

The love of life is in fact the sum of all our passions and of all our enjoyments; but these are by no means the same thing, for the vehemence of our passions is irritated, not less by disappointment than by the prospect of success. Nothing seems to be a match for this general tenaciousness of existence, but such an extremity either of bodily or mental suffering as destroys at once the power both of habit and imagination. In short ,the question whether life is accompanied with a greater quantity of pleasure or pain, may be fairly set aside as frivolous, and of no practical utility; for out attachment to life depends on our interest in it; and it cannot be denied that we have more interest in this moving, busy scene, agitated with a thousand hopes and fears, and checkered with every diversity of joy and sorrow, than in a dreary blank. To be something is better than to be nothing, because we can feel no interest in nothing. Passion, imagination, self-will, the sense of power, the very consciousness of our existence, bind us to life, and hold us fast in its chains, as by a magic spell, in spite of every other consideration. Nothing can be more philosophical than the reasoning which Milton puts into the mouth of the fallen angel:

"And that must end us, that must be our cure,
To be no more; sad cure: for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowe'd up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of sense and motion?"

(Excerpted from essay "On The Love of Life")

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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"It's about now and the fact that now is only going to happen once, and it's irreplaceable and irrecoverable. Of course, there'll be another now along shortly, but it won't be the same now. It won't be this now; the now now."
(Derek Bailey)

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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Now playing: Black Saint and the Sinner Lady

"Touch my beloved's thoughts while the world's affluence crumbles at my feet"

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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"I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can be together all the time."
(Hobbes, Leviathan)

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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"To all his friends and to his family he was just Joe-robust, happy-go-lucky, always up to something. But to himself he was just someone abandoned, lost, really forgotten by something, something majestic and beautiful that he saw in the world. Someday on his motorcycle he wanted to go far out across the U.S.A-just for the "hell of it" and just for something else too--to see sublime mountains, massive canyons, great mountain forests drumming in the high winds, lakes where he could pitch camp, the deserts and the mesas and the great rivers that somehow had forgotten him, the vast "man's country" of his boyish dreams." - The Town and the City, Part 1 - Chapter 9

"A kind of lyrical ecstasy possesses young Americans in the Springtime, a feeling of not belonging in any one place or in any one moment, a wild restless longing to be elsewhere, everywhere, now!" - The Town and the City, Part 2 - Chapter 1


From On The Road

"...they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"" - Part 1, Chapter 1.

"It was drizzling and mysterious at the beginning of our journey. I could see that it was all going to be one big sags of the mist. "Whooee!" yelled Dean. "Here we go!" And he hunched over the wheel and gunned her; he was back in his element, everybody could see that. We were delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move."

From The Subterraneans

" Making a new start, starting from fresh in the rain, 'Why should anyone want to hurt my little heart, my feet, my little hands, my skin that I'm wrapt in because God wants me warm and Inside, my toes - why did God make all this so decayable and dieable and harmable and wants to make me realize and scream - why the wild ground and bodies bare and breaks - I quaked when the giver creamed, when my father screamed, my mother dreamed - I started small and ballooned up and now I'm big and a naked child again and only to cry and fear. - Ah - Protect yourself, angel of no harm, you who've never and could never harm and crack another innocent in its shell and thin veiled pain - wrap a robe around you, honeylamb - protect yourself from harm and wait, till Daddy comes again, and Mama throws you warm inside her valley of the moon, loom at the loom of patient time, be happy in the mornings.' - Chapter 1.

From Satori in Paris

"...this book is to prove that no matter how you travel, how 'successful' your tour, or fore-shortened, you always learn something and learn to change your thoughts."Chapter 14

"My manners, abominable at times, can be sweet. As I grew older I became a drunk. Why?


posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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The most joyous of pop songs: "Swearin' To God" by Frankie Valli. It's like a hymn, but celebratory as opposed to awestruck ("Put Your Love In Me" by Hot Chocolate) although of course the singer is still full of awe. Glad to be alive, so glad we made it, so glad I didn't take that option.

People forget that the Four Seasons ran parallel to the Beach Boys for a long time, and for me they are fresher, because less exposed due to the thankful lack of "classic album" status (check out the Genuine Imitation Life Gazette and Who Loves You? albums; their Pet Sounds and Surf's Up respectively).

The great lost music writer of the '70s, Davitt Sigerson (well I think he went on to run WEA or something so not that lost), told a great story once of how a young Puerto Rican fellow came into a record shop just as this song was starting up. He immediately went into a beautifully executed, immaculate dance routine, swooning and bending all over the shop, faultless.

That's what this song sums up for me. I would like enormous, city-sized loudspeakers to blast this song out all across the South Bank so that I can dance and celebrate with you and - finally - achieve ecstatic peace.

I can even forgive Messrs Crewe and Gaudio for rhyming "you can" with "hu-man"!! :-)

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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Currently playing: "Are You The One I've Been Waiting For?" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

"I've felt you coming girl, as you drew near
I knew you'd find me, cause I longed you here
Are you my destiny? Is this how you'll appear?
Wrapped in a coat with tears in your eyes?
Well take that coat babe, and throw it on the floor
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?

As you've been moving surely toward me
My soul has comforted and assured me
That in time my heart it will reward me
And that all will be revealed
So I've sat and I've watched an ice-age thaw
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?

Out of sorrow entire worlds have been built
Out of longing great wonders have been willed
They're only little tears, darling, let them spill
And lay your head upon my shoulder
Outside my window the world has gone to war
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?

O we will know, won't we?
The stars will explode in the sky
O but they don't, do they?
Stars have their moment and then they die

There's a man who spoke wonders though I've never met him
He said, "He who seeks finds and who knocks will be let in"
I think of you in motion and just how close you are getting
And how every little thing anticipates you
All down my veins my heart-strings call
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?"

Our fear in expressing what we really feel wrapped in a classic ballad form.

posted by Marcello Carlin Permalink
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