idiot control

air conditioning - weakness (level plane)

when i listen to air conditioning, it seems so obvious - why does no one else sound like this? why the fuck is everyone wasting their time in these fucking useless hippie drum circles, err, ecstatic 'free jazz' influenced 'improvised' 'music' 'collectives?' where is the ugliness? where is the emotion, any emotion? is "dicking around" now an emotion? twelve art students with rainsticks aren't going to do my head in, and i want the fucker done in. i want music that will leave a swathe of ruin 50 miles wide, that cures leprosy by causing leukemia. the sound of tunguska, the shriek of thousands of half-assed whiners perishing in flames clutching copies of "smile" and "oh me oh my*".

thus: air conditioning. the sound of 737s flying into every building on earth. eternal tension with no release, knots and clots and tendons everywhere. a mouthful of someone else's teeth. three instruments and voice all trying to pound themselves into the same hole, becoming an ugly, throbbing, grease-smeared monochord. the soundtrack of your life, if in your life you frequently find yourself washing blood, skin and hair off the front of your car at 3 am.

as the lady said, "thousands of windows burst open/and the alarm bells are broken."

* "hey davendra, you totally remind me of tyrannosaurus rex!"
"oh, really? thanks man, i love marc bolan."
"no, not the band, the dinosaur. because you've got faggy little arms and feed on carrion."