"This is my death album," Donald Fagen said in his office on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. "It's about the death of culture, the death of politics, the beginning of the end of my life." Then he mock-sobbed, "Boo hoo hoo." More on Morph here and (thank you DV) here.
Also: john r. williamson did me the honour of reading (and commenting on) my musings on T Bone Burnett. Now, I've got a number of musician friends. I know these people all put their pants on one leg at a time. But I still believe the ones who have a passion for what they do slip into a plain where they serve the music. And this cat definitely serves the music. Be good to yourself, and check his music out here.
2 comments:
I've been enjoying his latest as well. There's got to be a better word than enjoy; something a bit more specific. One word for "smiling the sad smile when dealilng with death's imminent arrival". Well, at least that's what I'm doing when listening to "Brite Nitegown". That line, "You can't fight the fella in the Brite Nitegown."
(Read about WC Fields' connection with that here.
This track will definitely be on my "Darko's dead. Let's play his Funeral Vision cd".
Wow - Round-Headed-Boy sure delivers a good post-Fagen riff. But while I, too, prefer Fagen's muse to Becker's, I still think the opening and closing tracks to Everything Must Go is pert near as good as either of those boys get.
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