This song is one of my favorites and holds a lot of personal significance so, naturally, I decided to butcher it. I’ve already written about my obsession with Warren Zevon and the importance of this composition, so I won’t repeat myself. If you feel so inclined, you can read all about it here.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off for a virgin margarita…
I’ve been rather bad with updating my blog as of late, so firstly, I’d like to apologize for that. Right when I finally thought I had some time to do some serious writing, I went and caught the plague. Funny how that works.
I actually meant to post this last week and couldn’t find the time or energy to do so until now. Excuses aside, I plan on doubling down on my output and posting at least three to four new entries a week in the hopes that you all grow exceedingly sick of me.
Now on to the business at hand: “Two-Headed Dog (Red Temple Prayer)” by Roky Erickson. Erickson was the singer for The Thirteenth Floor Elevators, which was one of the first psychedelic bands of the ’60s. He’s an interesting character (to put it mildly): he’s done a fair few stints in mental hospitals and believes in things like goblins, demons, vampires, and zombies (which he uses as lyrical content for his songs). Simply put, he is a man after my own heart.
I’m still kind of sick so I’m gonna go lie down and dream about two-headed dogs and such. Enjoy.
Here’s a fun little number by The Forgetters, which is the current project of Blake Schwarzenbach (Jawbreaker/Jets To Brazil). I admire all of his work and he is one of few contemporary artists that continues to surprise and delight me. I’m very fond of this song and would recommend checking out the original, as well as the band’s full length release that came out last year.
Schwarzenbach is real good at incorporating a personal narrative into a larger commentary on human condition (particularly the American experience), which is a songwriting approach that is rarely done successfully in my opinion. He’s also got a knack for poetic (and sometimes cryptic) verbiage; my favorite line in the whole number has to be “I’m a straight up ghost in a tattered cape.” That’s just fantastic.
So here I am butchering his fine, fine work for the sake of “staying in practice.” Whatever the hell that means.