Everything this person has written for TUNETHEPROLETARIAT

I can only snigger.

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T. Rex – Life’s A Gas

Sweltering sun and shimmering blades of grass dancing in the wind would suggests a typical exquisite summer evening. That’s just it, though– typical. Even in the midst of dusk’s magic,can the feeling of indifference imbue your state of mind. Where’s that jolt? Where’s that bang? Slipping into a spiral of tawdriness, you’d think to recuperate your buoyancy with a bit of glint and vitality.

I can’t be bothered.

I chose to linger in indifference.

Marc Bolan knows this feeling. Marc Bolan said it all.

Just for another 2 minute and 24 seconds. I want to linger. I want to sulk in the vacancy. I want to lay wilted. I want to dawdle in the realization how nothing really matters at all. I want stare into the exhausted sky. He says he can place my love there. I want to ponder priesthood. I want the strings of the songs to take it’s best shot at breaching the abyss that is my mood. I want to take a crack at breathing unwavered even for the duration of the last 20 luminous seconds of the song.

But I can’t.

Through the jingle of his gripe and the grief of his recollections, I can only snigger. Albeit, I concede the “what if’s”, the “maybe’s”, the “almost’s” induce the most tragic, heartrending, sorrowful tales there are, (they don’t count, you know). Bolan is right. Life’s a gas. [Purchase.]

They trained in A-V-A

Written by

The Strokes – The Modern Age

Up on a hill…

Is where I’ll begin.

Ten years ago, I first heard this majestic piece of work while in the sun, sun having fun. While it was the first song to catch and captivate the ears of many by The Strokes, it was not my first reveling in them. By then, I had obtained a copy, courtesy of my older brother, of the, now, renowned revelation that is Is This It. It was the inducting album of The Strokes that illuminated so many insolvent and destitute fans of music with actual merit in the midst of a popodessy. But then, suddenly, with an opening riff that could strike a jolt in anyone and the impeccability of these exuberant banging drums that implores a free spirit, the world is enthralled and comforted. Rock and roll is not dead. It has been revived and repositioned. The Modern Age is an applicable anthem to anyone bearing or, even, pining for youth.

Being catchy is one matter but aural orchestrator, Julian Casablancas, never fails to engender lyrics that stirs. In the course of my first listening to The Modern Age, not until the chorus lyrics spoke to me did my ears sharpen as sensations sparked. The resonance of his voice has a vibe of a suppressed, wayward laughter. He reiterates a story, but then the woes of reality kick in and we hear an absolving Julian. Work hard and say it’s easy. Do it just to please. Tomorrow will be different. So I’ll pretend I’m leaving. What generic misapprehended soul, departed from the rest of society, can’t be stolen by that? But hold on tight and regenerate, your breath is going to go again. Following, is the concentrated, blazing guitar solo from a, then, fresh but soulful Nick Valensi.

The musical luminosity that is Valensi’s solo is one of the most imperative, endeared solos to many fans. It’s well-nigh the reason as to why this piece of music is brilliance and not just goodness. Perhaps, it is the whimsical, rapturous ride it takes you for. Perhaps, it’s the experience of Valensi making love to his guitar thereupon sheer genius is the child. Tangling with the sprightly pulsations of a tempo prompted by Fabrizio Moretti (I dare you to resist from tapping your feet.), it amplifies the song to a different magnitude. Along with the firm reinforcing rhythm guitar of Albert Hammond, Jr. and sweeping with the tactful trims of the bass provided by the gracious Nikolai Fraiture, the song is layered and laced with delight. Moreover, accentuating that this is an ensemble of five. Every member is vital to the magic and no one is sitting pretty.

You can steer off into tangents of their backgrounds. You can interrogate the quiescent years. The consistent melodic splendors they conceive, howbeit, speak for themselves. The thought provoking lyrics will entice and intrigue any audience. If you were insipid enough to be unimpressed with The Strokes before hearing this song, trust this is the track that will prove to be cogent enough to bind your heart to this band. You’ll be ripping your earphones off bellowing My vision’s clearer now, but I am unafraid. Ten years after adorning the earth, ten years after enduring skepticism, The Modern Age is still timeless and still effervescent. [Is This It… without [a] question [mark].]