[HT: Sultans of Swing: over and over and over… – The New Neo]
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Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
Sultan’s is majestic, for sure.
Runners up?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oh5uPTCbB5s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vs91er7AZmg&list=PLOH77NdWbWhzj6DS-PsO-zG9OXLgGbMUp 3.38
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2u4FTZTxCA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DI31qpzt1Iw makes you want to grab the M1.
MK’s playing is so distinct that it separates him from every other guitar player on the planet and I never get tired of listening to him. And, he’s a genuinely humble and entertaining man.
If the police are dismantled , then who will enforce the anti-gun laws?
Let me put it this way: on that day, there will be no protection for criminals.
Not to take anything away from his playing, but a solo is unaccompanied. Or has the definition changed?
Get a life, Tallow Pot
ghost-
Excellent question and precise analysis. Five stars.
Win, win for America. It is called self government. On a local level it has been the only *government* that has actually worked. Anywhere.
I posted this before.
It is a better, clearer version.
And it has Clapton too, though in a subordinate position.
You can thank me later.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubogjeqf8wQ
He can make it cry and sing.
Thanks, ghost.
The first time I hear MK and DS on the radio, I thought wow, nice to hear an obvious Chet Atkins influence in modern rock/pop. There are certain textures and tones only possible with finger picking.
I think the solo from Telegraph Road is better.
I agree. Telegraph Road was awesome. Primarily because it built upon his awesome original solo on Sultan’s