White Man in Hammersmith Palais

Midnight to six man
For the first time from Jamaica
Dillinger and Leroy Smart
Delroy Wilson, your cool operator
Ken Boothe for UK pop reggae
With backing bands sound systems
And if they've got anything to say
There's many black ears here to listen
But it was Four Tops all night with encores from stage right
Charging from the bass knives to the treble
But onstage they ain't got no roots rock rebel
Onstage they ain't got no ... roots rock rebel
Dress back jump back this is a bluebeat attack
'Cos it won't get you anywhere
Fooling with your guns
The British Army is waiting out there
An' it weighs fifteen hundred tons
White youth, black youth
Better find another solution
Why not phone up Robin Hood
And ask him for some wealth distribution
Punk rockers in the UKThey won't notice anyway
They're all too busy fighting
For a good place under the lighting
The new groups are not concerned
With what there is to be learned
They got Burton suits, ha you think it's funny
Turning rebellion into money
All over people changing their votes
Along with their overcoats
If Adolf Hitler flew in today
They'd send a limousine anyway
I'm the all night drug-prowling wolf
Who looks so sick in the sun
I'm the white man in the Palais
Just lookin' for fun
I'm only
Looking for fun

--- The Clash, 1977

Word to Judy Miller

"Journalism is not a profession or a trade. It is a cheap catch-all for fuck-offs and misfits---a false doorway to the backside of life, a filthy piss-ridden little hole nailed off by the building inspector, but just deep enough for a wino to curl up from the sidewalk and masturbate like a chimp in a zoo-cage."

---Hunter S. Thompson, journalist, fabulist, dead man

VENUS (de Milo)

Tight toy night, streets were so bright
The world looked so thin and between my bones and skin
There stood another person who was a little surprised
To be face to face with a world so alive.

I fell. (DIDJA FEEL LOW?)
NO, Not at all. (HUH???)
I fell right into the Arms of Venus de Milo.

I stood up, walked out of the Arms of Venus de Milo.

You know it's all like some new kind of drug
My senses are sharp and my hands are like gloves
Broadway looked so medieval, it seemed to flap, like little pages
I fell sideways laughing with a friend from many stages.

(How l felt.)

Suddenly my eyes went so soft and shaky
I knew there was pain but pain is not aching
Then Richie ... Richie said: "Hey man let's dress up like cops. Think of what we could do!"
But something, something said "You better not."

And I fell ...

--- Tom Verlaine, Television, Marquee Moon, 1976

Allons à Lafayette!

Allons à Lafayette mais pour changer ton nom.
On va t'appeler Madame, Madame Canaille-Comeaux!
Petite, t'es trop mignonne pour faire to criminelle!
Comment tu crois mais moi, j'peux faire mais moi tout seul?
Mais toi. mais joli coeur, 'garde donc mais quoi t'as fait!
Si loin comme moi j'su' d'toi, mais ça, ça m'fait pitier!

Allons à Lafayette mais pour changer ton nom.
On va t'appeler Madame, Madame Canaille-Comeaux!
Petite, t'es trop mignonne pour faire to criminelle!
Comment tu crois mais moi, j'peux faire mais moi tout seul?
Mais ou, mais t'es de moi si loin de moi, mignonne!
Tu peux me crever 'l coeur, jolie et jolie fille!

Allons à Lafayette mais pour changer ton nom.
On va t'appeler Madame, Madame Canaille-Comeaux!
Petite, t'es trop mignonne pour faire ta criminelle!
Observe moi bien, migonne, tu vas voir mais pour toi-même
Que moi mais j'mérite pas tous ça mais t'après faire!
T'après quitter ton nèg mais pour mais t'en aller!

(Let's go to Lafayette to change your name!
We'll call you Madam, Madam Rascal Comeaux!
Little one, you're too cute to do me wrong!
How come you believe that I can make it all alone?
But you, pretty heart, look what you've done.
So far as I am from you, why it's pitiful!

Let's go to Lafayette to change your name!
We'll call you Madam, Madam Rascal Comeaux!
Little one, you're too cute to do me wrong!
How come you believe that I can make it all alone?
Why yes, you're so far away from me, cute one!
You can break my heart, pretty, pretty girl!

Let's go to Lafayette to change your name!

We'll call you Madam, Madam Rascal Comeaux!
Little one, you're too cute to do me wrong!
Look me over, my beauty you'll see for yourself
That I don't deserve all the things you're doing!
You're leaving your lover to go away!)

--- Traditional Cajun song

JIM GORDON BLUES

Alienation generation's constipation
Consequence of years of Oprahzation
Super-concentrated self infatuation
I don't have a clue
I don't trust those who do
I'm just tryin to shake these Jim Gordon Blues.

Now that every word has lost its meaning
Now we know the image is deceiving
I can't trust what I'm not believing
I don't have a clue
I don't trust those who do
I'm just tryin to shake these Jim Gordon Blues.

Don't kiss it, who knows where it's been
Don't think it, if it might offend
Don't chase what's blowin in the wind
I don't have a clue
I don't trust those who do
I'm just tryin to shake these Jim Gordon Blues.

The voices are screaming, constantly berating
A moment of silence would be so intoxicating
The urge to kill can be so liberating
I don't have a clue
I don't trust those who do
I'm just tryin to shake these Jim Gordon Blues.

--- The Dictators, DFFD, 2001

Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop

I met the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
"Those breasts are flat and fallen now,
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty."

"Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul," I cried.
"My friends are gone, but that's a truth
Nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness
And in the heart's pride.

"A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent."

--- W.B. Yeats, 1933

Rub Me Raw

I know these blues are gonna rub me raw
Every single cure seems to be against the law

Went and told my psychic
I said "Keep it to yourself.
I don't wanna hear it and don't be telling no one else."

Word's out on the street
Whispers in the night
They come out of the woodwork, wanna see what it's like

Pickle-ickle-ickle
Gonna run that voodoo down
How the crowd gets fickle when your face is to
the ground!

Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw
Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw

Now I'm shaking all over
I'm a shattering mass
But I'm gonna sit up straight
I'm going to take it with class

Old man used to tell me
"Son, never look back,
Move on to the next case.
Fold your clothes and pack."

To the green horned chicken hoppers I say
"Get yourself a trade,
Or go hack to the chat room and fade in the shade"

Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw
Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw

I know these blues are gonna rub me raw
Every single cure seems to be against the law

I was walking pretty well then I fell into a hole
I should climb out quick, but I hate doing what I'm told

Got a wang-dang-doodle wrapped in bog snake hide
This goat head gumbo is keeping me alive

I don't want your pity or your fifty-dollar words
I don't share your need to discuss the absurd

Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw
Oh no these blues are gonna rub me raw

--by Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderón