They say the truth hurts. With that in mind, set Iphone to 9-1 and let’s go to that land of pain. You, we all are mortal idiots with an indefinite expiration date. Along the way, we’re going to succumb-a to the rumba of sin. It’s inevitable, so it is necessary to pave a road of forgiveness. The Catholics call it confession, the North Koreans call it aiding and abetting, the Spaniards call it a reason for an inquisition, and I call it catharsis.
I hate this proposal: if you were deserted on an island, what ten discs would you bring? It’s such a stupid question, so stupid, for it is unlikely that you are even going to have electricity. Also, listening to music is a luxury, living on a deserted island is the total opposite. Any sense of me time is more like, how am I going to survive through the night time? Like the end theme of Gilligan’s Island says, “Not a single luxury.” Words to live by, or die by, kind of like aloha.
Kenny G is many things to many people. To me, he is the punchline of a style of music that has repulsed me for many years; smooth jazz.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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