1st Amendment to RULE #5: Never, ever, ever apologize, no exceptions...unless blood is drawn. If blood is spilled in any quantity, the player who dealt the punishment is bound by the governance of obligatory forgiveness request policy. If blood is drawn, play must cease immediately.
Sport for the wicked, this is not.
My apologies for drawing blood yesterday. Of course I am referring to the "royal" drawing of blood.
Here's the expand view of yesterday's cryptic, pharmaceutical drenched entry, for clarity's sake:
Coco Hayley is the daughter of legendary rockers from the band Sonic Youth. Sonic Youth had all of the ingredients to bake the perfect cultural music movement cake and we gobbled it up. Without Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon it is likely that there would be no Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, Thom Yorke, Johnny Greenwood or the monumental shift those artists are often credited for. Without Sonic Youth it is possible that underground rock would not have a popular forum ready made for the eventual, cultural catapult the music industry saw in the late 80s to early 90s. Daydream Nation, Sonic Youth's sublime masterpiece is but one brick in the structure, but it is the keystone holding the bridge upright.
Many great names have carried a torch across that bridge. That was then. Who is building the bridge for this generation of torch bearers?
It is unfair to anoint Coco Hayley, or any offspring of rock royalty, as a generational music savior. Nobody saw Sonic Youth coming and nobody expected Daydream Nation. The surprise is what harbored the awe. The lack of expectation was the source of wonder and inspiration.
My sincerest apologies to Coco Hayley Gordon Moore. My apologies to Jakob Dylan and Jason Bonham and Sean Lennon (I mean no disrespect to Julian, but we're trying to be realistic here). The bridges you are asked to build is unrealistic.
This generation's music savior will come out of nowhere and surprise the hell out of us. Most of us will resist its unfamiliarity, but twenty-five years from now when the dust has settled, the crown will be resting firmly upon their head.
These last couple of days, quite possibly this entire past week's worth of Jazz Hands were done in the car with Sonic Youth on repeat. My Jazz Handing deployments are connected to that fact, although these posts were only "loosely" tied to Jazz Hands. But I can't apologize for that...I don't like wasting lives unnecessarily. Besides, rules are rules.
Today's Jazz Hands were unapologetically apologetic. Day seventy-four complete.
My apologies for drawing blood yesterday. Of course I am referring to the "royal" drawing of blood.
Here's the expand view of yesterday's cryptic, pharmaceutical drenched entry, for clarity's sake:
Coco Hayley is the daughter of legendary rockers from the band Sonic Youth. Sonic Youth had all of the ingredients to bake the perfect cultural music movement cake and we gobbled it up. Without Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon it is likely that there would be no Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, Thom Yorke, Johnny Greenwood or the monumental shift those artists are often credited for. Without Sonic Youth it is possible that underground rock would not have a popular forum ready made for the eventual, cultural catapult the music industry saw in the late 80s to early 90s. Daydream Nation, Sonic Youth's sublime masterpiece is but one brick in the structure, but it is the keystone holding the bridge upright.
Many great names have carried a torch across that bridge. That was then. Who is building the bridge for this generation of torch bearers?
It is unfair to anoint Coco Hayley, or any offspring of rock royalty, as a generational music savior. Nobody saw Sonic Youth coming and nobody expected Daydream Nation. The surprise is what harbored the awe. The lack of expectation was the source of wonder and inspiration.
My sincerest apologies to Coco Hayley Gordon Moore. My apologies to Jakob Dylan and Jason Bonham and Sean Lennon (I mean no disrespect to Julian, but we're trying to be realistic here). The bridges you are asked to build is unrealistic.
This generation's music savior will come out of nowhere and surprise the hell out of us. Most of us will resist its unfamiliarity, but twenty-five years from now when the dust has settled, the crown will be resting firmly upon their head.
These last couple of days, quite possibly this entire past week's worth of Jazz Hands were done in the car with Sonic Youth on repeat. My Jazz Handing deployments are connected to that fact, although these posts were only "loosely" tied to Jazz Hands. But I can't apologize for that...I don't like wasting lives unnecessarily. Besides, rules are rules.
Today's Jazz Hands were unapologetically apologetic. Day seventy-four complete.
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