First, David Gray. This album… I loved this album. The song is called Babylon, but it fits into the white theme because it comes from ‘White Ladders’, which is David Gray’s best work. Honest.
Ready for some Big Chill? Procol Harum did the original, but I like the Annie Lennox Version. She has a theatric sensibility, Annie Lennox, and her videos never give the slightest inclination that she minds if her theatrics make the watcher uncomfortable.
This song has always captured a feeling difficult to express. When it’s 3 am and you’re still at the casino, or in the midst of a drunken party, when the merry degradations of the body stop for an eternal second, and you are suddely disconnected from the surroundings long enough to be aware of your loneliness. You know you can take yourself to that next step, cross a line to the black abyss, and no one would stop you. In the midst of all the hilarity, you are alone.
Ann Peebles, ‘I Can’t Stand the Rain’, just discovered her tracks. I really like this song. The bright white smile can count for the theme thread.
Now this. You might not like it, I donno. Soul Coughing, True Dreams of Wichita. The words, yeah… for me they resonate. And I really like this video. One of the better fan videos I’ve seen.
signal got lost to the satelite
got lost in the ride-up-
to the _plunge _down_))
man sends the ray of the electric light, sends the impulse through the air..
…down to home.
and you can stand on the arms of the Williamsburg Bridges
cryin, “Hey man, well this is Babylon.”
and you can fire out on a bus to the outside world,
down to Lousiana; you can
take her with you.
i’ve seen the rains of the real world
come forward on the plains;
i’ve seen the Kansas of your sweet little myth.
(You’ve never seen it, no.)
i’m half sick on the drinks you mixed, through your
True Dreams of Wichita.
brooklyn like a sea in the asphalt stalks;
push out dead air from a parking garage…
where you stand with the keys,
and your cool hat of silence,
where you grip her love like a driver’s license.
i’ve seen you fire up the gas
in the engine valves,
i’ve seen your hand turn saintly on the radio dial.
i’ve seen the airwaves pull your eyes toward heaven.
outside topeka, (in the phone lines)
her good teeth smile was winding down.
engine sputters ghosts out of gasoline fumes.
they say You had it, but you sold it.
you didn’t want it, no
I’m half drunk on babble you transmit through your
True Dreams Of Wichita
Oh. Wichita kinda sounds like ‘White’.