wisertime
Keep on Truckin'
Yeah, Music from the Big Pink is just one of those albums that wiggled from The Band and right into permanent social stature. They brought this on us as their debut album in 1968 and as I listen to it again today it is clear that growing up with this has benefited me in ways that range from subtle to profound.
I cannot review this album because where it takes me, every single time, is a place that doesn't allow words. You know? The notes and emotes from this album know how your feet move; they know how your heart moves and where your thoughts can go if swayed just alittle. WTF, guys? You think you can just jump into the scene and redefine art?
****ers.
The Band plays music that you didn't think you'd like in a lot of cases because so much country-ish and that campy twang - but they trick you and play the music that you'd find if you looked music up in the dictionary. Or, if you ran into a Buddhist along some path and you got to talking and then you both shut up quick because the only next thing to say is The Band and out there in God's country you don't miss the little profundaties that poke through the live or die day everything breathing there could have.
But, it's supper time and I could give a rats-ass about continuing waxing poetic about some group of fellas that just happen to make me want to do that in the first place.
****ers.
I cannot review this album because where it takes me, every single time, is a place that doesn't allow words. You know? The notes and emotes from this album know how your feet move; they know how your heart moves and where your thoughts can go if swayed just alittle. WTF, guys? You think you can just jump into the scene and redefine art?
****ers.
The Band plays music that you didn't think you'd like in a lot of cases because so much country-ish and that campy twang - but they trick you and play the music that you'd find if you looked music up in the dictionary. Or, if you ran into a Buddhist along some path and you got to talking and then you both shut up quick because the only next thing to say is The Band and out there in God's country you don't miss the little profundaties that poke through the live or die day everything breathing there could have.
But, it's supper time and I could give a rats-ass about continuing waxing poetic about some group of fellas that just happen to make me want to do that in the first place.
****ers.
