April 2022 Vinyl Spin Challenge - Intertextuality and You

April 21: Denis Johnson, Strangler Bob

It really doesn't have a lot to do with the story, and I'm probably picking it because it's sitting here needing to be played, but the movie does have one really great scene that is set in a jail cell. I'd post a video clip, but it's a pretty major spoiler.

Joseph Bishara – Malignant (Original Motion Picture Score)
Waxwork Records – WW148, 2021/2022

Cut by Daniel Krieger at SST
Pressed at MPO

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April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
  • “The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
  • The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”
The first thing that aurally popped into my head...



The first thing that visually popped into my head...

Big Audio Dynamite - Tighten Up Vol. 88

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April 23: Donald Barthelme, The Rise of Capitalism
  • “The first thing I did was make a mistake. I thought I had understood capitalism, but what I had done was assume an attitude -- melancholy sadness -- toward it. This attitude is not correct. Fortunately your letter came, at that instant. "Dear Rupert, I love you every day. You are the world, which is life. I love you I adore you I am crazy about you. Love, Marta." Reading between the lines, I understood your critique of my attitude toward capitalism. Always mindful that the critic must "studiare da un punto di vista formalistico e semiologico il rapporto fra lingua di un testo e codificazione di un -- " But here a big thumb smudges the text -- the thumb of capitalism, which we are all under. Darkness falls. My neighbor continues to commit suicide, once a fortnight. I have this suicides geared into my schedule because my role is to save him; once I was late and he spent two days unconscious on the floor. But now that I have understood that I have not understood capitalism, perhaps a less equivocal position toward it can be "hammered out." My daughter demands more Mr. Bubble for her bath. The shrimp boats lower their nets. A book called Humorists of the 18th Century is published.”
Roger Waters - Us + Them
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Fell a bit behind for reasons....

April 21: Denis Johnson, Strangler Bob
  • “Donald Dundun showed me how to roll a cigarette. Dundun came from the trailer courts, and I was middle class gone crazy, but we passed the time together freely because we both had long hair and chased after any kind of intoxicating substance. Dundun, only nineteen, already displayed up and down both his arms the tattooed veins of a hope-to-die heroin addict. The same went for B.D., a boy who arrived the week before Christmas. We knew him only as B.D. “My name cannot be pronounced, it can only be spelled.” That was his dodge. I, on the other hand, didn’t know the meaning of my own handle, Dink. Some grouchy, puffy-eyed prisoner would walk by, look at me, and say, “Dink.””
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April 23: Donald Barthelme, The Rise of Capitalism
  • “The first thing I did was make a mistake. I thought I had understood capitalism, but what I had done was assume an attitude -- melancholy sadness -- toward it. This attitude is not correct. Fortunately your letter came, at that instant. "Dear Rupert, I love you every day. You are the world, which is life. I love you I adore you I am crazy about you. Love, Marta." Reading between the lines, I understood your critique of my attitude toward capitalism. Always mindful that the critic must "studiare da un punto di vista formalistico e semiologico il rapporto fra lingua di un testo e codificazione di un -- " But here a big thumb smudges the text -- the thumb of capitalism, which we are all under. Darkness falls. My neighbor continues to commit suicide, once a fortnight. I have this suicides geared into my schedule because my role is to save him; once I was late and he spent two days unconscious on the floor. But now that I have understood that I have not understood capitalism, perhaps a less equivocal position toward it can be "hammered out." My daughter demands more Mr. Bubble for her bath. The shrimp boats lower their nets. A book called Humorists of the 18th Century is published.”
The World is a Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - Illusory Walls

I was going to play some Godspeed because this is like something you'd see in their liner notes, but decided to go for this one, with plenty of commentary on the capitalist grind.

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April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
  • “The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
  • The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”
LCD Soundsystem "Sound Of Silver" (2007 DFA Records)
The album cover...

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April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
  • “The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
  • The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”
Calexico - Feast of Wire

Dusty, dirty roads with fading graffiti call for Calexico.

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April 23: Donald Barthelme, The Rise of Capitalism
  • “The first thing I did was make a mistake. I thought I had understood capitalism, but what I had done was assume an attitude -- melancholy sadness -- toward it. This attitude is not correct. Fortunately your letter came, at that instant. "Dear Rupert, I love you every day. You are the world, which is life. I love you I adore you I am crazy about you. Love, Marta." Reading between the lines, I understood your critique of my attitude toward capitalism. Always mindful that the critic must "studiare da un punto di vista formalistico e semiologico il rapporto fra lingua di un testo e codificazione di un -- " But here a big thumb smudges the text -- the thumb of capitalism, which we are all under. Darkness falls. My neighbor continues to commit suicide, once a fortnight. I have this suicides geared into my schedule because my role is to save him; once I was late and he spent two days unconscious on the floor. But now that I have understood that I have not understood capitalism, perhaps a less equivocal position toward it can be "hammered out." My daughter demands more Mr. Bubble for her bath. The shrimp boats lower their nets. A book called Humorists of the 18th Century is published.”
Pearl Jam ~ Riot Act

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April 25: Sherman Alexie, Indian Education
  • Tenth Grade I passed the written test easily and nearly flunked the driving, but still 60 received my Washington State driver's license on the same day that Wally Jim killed himself by driving his car into a pine tree. No traces of alcohol in his blood, good job, wife and two kids. 61 "Why'd he do it?" asked a white Washington State trooper. 62 All the Indians shrugged their shoulders, looked down at the ground. 63 "Don't know," we all said, but when we look in the mirror, see the history 64 of our tribe in our eyes, taste failure in the tap water, and shake with old tears, we understand completely. Believe me, everything looks like a noose if you stare at it long enough.
The Tragically Hip "Road Apples" (1991 MCA; 2021 30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)
Before his passing, Gord Downie did some work raising awareness for native american issues.

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April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
  • “The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
  • The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”
The stream of consciousness description of life in a city brought this album / song to mind.

Neil Young ~ Freedom

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April 25: Sherman Alexie, Indian Education
  • Tenth Grade I passed the written test easily and nearly flunked the driving, but still 60 received my Washington State driver's license on the same day that Wally Jim killed himself by driving his car into a pine tree. No traces of alcohol in his blood, good job, wife and two kids. 61 "Why'd he do it?" asked a white Washington State trooper. 62 All the Indians shrugged their shoulders, looked down at the ground. 63 "Don't know," we all said, but when we look in the mirror, see the history 64 of our tribe in our eyes, taste failure in the tap water, and shake with old tears, we understand completely. Believe me, everything looks like a noose if you stare at it long enough.
Children are taught to hate
Parents just couldn't wait
Some are rich and some are poor
Others will just suffer more
Have you ever been ashamed
And felt society try to keep you down?

Social Distortion ~ White Light, White Heat, White Trash

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April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
“The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”

Beastie Boys just feels right for this post. And I love me some Professor Booty. So going with Check Your Head.
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Hemotep said:
April 24: Jeff Noon, The Blind Spot
“The noise of a boom-box, bass coiled with blood-pulse music. A desperate man hiding away as police cars pass by along the seafront, sirens rising and falling in waves. A pair of teenage girls on the run, thinking themselves film stars. Escapees from boredom. Both of them dying of thirst for love, trapped in life, pain held in their joined palms like a bird’s egg lined with cracks.
The sun rises, melting the sky. Now the city moves closer. A new camera is set up across the road, the lens glistening black and hostile, zooming in. Until the blind spot stands revealed: a few feet of grimy pavement, a few yards of wall, a grim corner. Dog shit, tarmac, litter, brickwork, plaster. Graffiti, names and dates, all fading now.”

Beastie Boys just feels right for this post. And I love me some Professor Booty. So going with Check Your Head.
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Professor, what's another word for pirate treasure?

Guess I know what I'm spinning next!
 
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