Getting To Know Your Residential Maniac Through The Gift Of Song (Whisperscream's LS W/O) Jul 21 '05 (Updated Jul 10 '06)    Write an essay on this topic. Tweet Popular Products in Music Revelation [Digipak] by Journey From $12 Machine Gun Etiquette by The Damned From $40 The Bottom Line Life is a beautiful struggle. I’d say I have three passions in life: coffee, egg rolls and music. If ever one of these should disappear from this mortal coil, I’m throwing myself off of a bridge. When I found out about this write-off, it was too bloody good to pass up. Of course, then I hit a bit of a snag. How exactly would I write it? I couldn’t just scribble down a few descriptions with the song titles. Why, that would be too convenient. My original plan was to actually write a narrative, a typical day in the life of Disco. The problem is I have no life, which led me to do a hell of a lot of lying, and after working for about 5 days and having nothing but a mess of fabricated bullshit, I scrapped it. Instead, I decided to opt for a looser format; the way I write the liner notes for my mixes. Sometimes you get song descriptions, sometimes you get short stories or poems, most of the time you just get wild tangents that don’t really go anywhere. In an effort to make each song sound fresh, I tried to keep from repeating the same artists (except for the runners-up which I really didn’t care about). Last I checked, only The Beatles and Radiohead appear twice for the actual tracks, which I really don’t feel too bad about since the songs show different sides of the bands. Special thanks to whisperscream for starting this and snik for resurrecting it. Apologies to the three people who e-mailed me in the last half week who I haven’t e-mailed back yet. Opening Credits: Aesop Rock – Daylight The clouds of the night sky parted as small beads of light poked through the tides telling of their eventual manifestation to the sun. The beads turned into larger threads, until one massive beacon of light gently caressed its fingers over the Earth. The birds spread their wings majestically and took flight into the cerulean sky. Roses in the distance sprang forth from their burial and sprouted into full glory. The shadows returned to the catacombs to which they dwelled. He who cannot be named withered beneath the beautiful promise of a new day. The sun, that legendary phoenix, returned to its thrown, ascending to the pearly gates of heaven. Waking Up: The Beatles – Here Comes The Sun Once, long, long ago, I had to wake up early for a final at my (crappy) college. As I stared wearily at the window, I realized the sun wasn’t even out yet; it was pitch black outside. Ironically, “Here Comes The Sun” was blaring from my alarm clock. George Harrison’s disgustingly cheerful mannerisms of Here comes the sun! DO DO DO DO! drove me over the edge. He was laughing at me….FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE! I HATE it when people do that! With little other recourse, my mouth began to foam and I started growling. I stomped over to the miniature alarm and kicked its face in, but the music wouldn’t stop. So I began ripping out individual pieces of the clock and strewing them about the room, but the music wouldn’t stop. Finally, I gathered all the pieces into one spot and began jumping up and down over them. This did stop the music, however, “Here Comes The Sun” was now long over now, and I was 30 minutes late to my final. Nonetheless, I had proven to myself that I was, in fact, better than George Harrison, and this was enough to settle my damaged nerves. Falling In Love: KRS-ONE – Love’s Gonna Getcha (Material Love) (Runner-Up: Talib Kweli – Never Been In Love) (Secondary Runner-Up: Eric B. And Rakim – Mahogany) My first choice for this category was “Mahogany”, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was neither a successful emcee in a New York state of mind, NOR did I have any colorful cohorts named Eric B. “Never Been In Love” was my back-up, but that song was too bloody happy to apply to me. Unlike (that sell-out prick) Talib, I’ve still yet to actually fall in love. The more I thought about it, I realized Kris’ “Love’s Gonna Getcha” was the perfect song to describe the process of falling love. Sure, it has absolutely nothing at all to do with romance….or does it have absolutely everything to do with romance? You decide….the ball is in YOUR court. Courtship these days is a lot like the cigarette industry; it would probably be outlawed if it weren’t so bloody stimulating for the economy. Here is my poem dedicated to my mail order bride; wherever she is. This is for the girl with the crimson hair, who holds my heart in her acquiescent stare, the green eyes that part the tides with their lovely loom, with skin shining brighter than the purest moon, she whose radiance blinds me in noble splendor, she whose lips are sweeter than the sweetest nectar, to caress your heart is my eternal quest, mine beats to the rhythm of your fragile breath, I haven’t much, but what I have I toll, to you I bequeath my heart and soul. First Date: Atmosphere – Hair Let me get something off my chest; Sluggo is easily the most overrated emcee in the underground, and “Lucy Ford” is easily the most overrated “masterpiece” of the underground. That said, no underground rapper these days can pen neither a better, nor more fascinating story than Mr. Daley himself (which makes “Seven’s Travels” all the more disappointing). From tales of nomadic struggles, to parables about the inherent similarities of good and evil, Slug can make you think without acting like a pompous asshole in the process. I think “Hair” describes the perfect date: boy meets girl, boy picks up girl, boy and girl are murdered in a graphic car accident. I wish all my dates could go that way. Hell, I wish I had dates period! Ha ha ha. But seriously folks. On top of that, it has this whole “feel good” vibe to it, and I can sympathize with the whole “see bands like us don’t get groupies” struggle….(sigh) this is the part where I cry as I make The Golden Gate Bridge out of popsicle sticks… Edit 07/10/06: Okay, I take this statement back. I've actually gone back through Atmosphere's discography and am now a big fan. Damn you to hell Sluggo! Average Day: Radiohead – Paranoid Android “Paranoid Android” is, without a doubt, the perfect song to describe the average day. It starts off calmly and almost tranquilly, then some kind of tension builds up, then things get a little crazy, then it gets calm again, and then it gets crazy again, and then it just ends. I was originally going to post some excerpts here from my favorite concept review (Read: Pretentious yammering) that I’ve written to date (in all it’s bleak and bitter glory), but it seems a little too pointless and self-indulgent to do so now, especially since I canned my first idea. Love Scene: Skinny Puppy – Worlock (Runner-Up: Sage Francis – Agony In Her Body) (Secondary Runner-Up: Nine Inch Nails – Closer) People are either going to think I’m crazy or shrug their shoulders apathetically and say “What?” now, but hear me out. The strings that open and close the track are absolutely mesmerizing; it’s like listening to the sun rise and set in the same song. In fact, they’re what make the song. Sure, the mechanical chugging is great, but the strings breathe this sense of life and melody into what’s somewhat of a dark and barren piece of instrumentation (and album). And then there’re the lyrics. I heard somewhere (I think it may have been a review for the single on this site actually) that Ogre supposedly wrote this song for his girlfriend at the time (“Blue”). Is it true? I don’t know, but even as Ogre hums out society’s ailments and parallels them to animal torture, there’s this strange optimism beneath the pillage of the song as if everything’s going to be alright. It’s kind of like a lullaby for the deranged…..of course I have another reason for choosing “Worlock” (for the same reason I’m choosing Agony and “Closer” for my backups). I’m not gonna front; I watch a looooooooot of porno. It’s not for erotic value really, it’s just so damned funny (I think I’m actually repeating this from my “Amnesiac” review, but oh well). I mean really, how can anyone find two bulbous oily masses of mangled flesh flapping against each other sexy? Hell, modern American pornography isn’t a far cry from bestiality (Read: Too many uggos), and all the good American pornography has been deemed A-OK for television by the FCC. I guess what I’m trying to say is, come for the Worlock, stay for the pie. Fight Scene: F-Minus – Sweating Blood (Runner-Up: Jay-Z – 99 Problems (Grey Album Version)) (Secondary Runner-Up: Ministry - Thieves) (Tertiary Runner-Up: Bad Religion – Sinister Rouge) In the original story, this is where the external conflict was first revealed. I walk into a record store to pick up a copy of the greatest record ever made (Frank Stallone’s self-titled album). To my relief, I find (the last copy of) the handsomely decorated one leather jacket shouldered cover greeting me the minute I waltz into the store. To my chagrin, my rival, Norman Fell, or Mr. Roper from TV’s “Three’s Company” and “The Ropers”, yanks the record from my grasp and claims it as his own. When I ask him for it back, the apparently living daemon yells “Step off bitch!” in my general direction. Then the fiery feedback drenched guitar riffage of “Sweating Blood” began playing in the store, and I begin screaming lyrics from Stallone’s multi-platinum single “Far From Over” from the classic film “Staying Alive” at Mr. Roper, prompting the two of us to battle for control of the greatest record ever made. Needless to say, Fell kicks my ass and leaves the store one copy of “Frank Stallone” richer. However, not one to be outdone, I run him down in my dream car (a Volkswagen Fox…any year is fine really), yank the CD out of his hands, and drive off in a flash, burning out and kicking up exhaust in his face as I make my getaway. Damn, I love that world…..even if it sets up my eventual demise. Breaking Up: Sage Francis – Eviction Notice (Runner-Up: Derek & The Dominos – Layla) I thought this song was funny as hell the first few times I heard it. Sage’s loose “I’m in the house y’all! I’m in the house y’all!”s and “Listen, one of us is leaving, and when I say us, I mean YOU!” interlude inspired nothing but rabid cackling from me. Then I heard this was supposed to be a really serious song about his step dad (or maybe just his mom’s boyfriend) beating and cheating on his mother and damn….needless to say I felt like kind of an asshole (and still kind of feel like an asshole because I still kind of laugh every time I hear this song). I’ve never undergone the pain of separation (mainly because I’ve never undergone the pain of union), but I’d imagine this song captures it pretty effectively. The song revolves around this frighteningly restrained, malevolent beat which you know is going to explode eventually (and yes, it eventually does in a mesh of gritty guitars, demented chants, screams and profanity). Of course, the focal point of the song is Sage’s brilliant storytelling. It’s amazing really, the way he paints this vivid landscape of a diseased apartment, covered in ants, alcohol bottles, broken glass, used condoms and empty syringes, with a faucet dripping endlessly without a destination, with a child shivering under their bed, trying to find comfort within the confines of their dank, empty room, and their parents, their supposed role models, screaming their parting goodbyes to each other at the door. And yes, after describing that horribly despairing scene, I still find this song absolutely hilarious. I’ve just noticed Sage’s habit of dividing the atmosphere of his albums in half. To me, “Eviction Notice” is the unofficial turn into the darker, more introverted half of “Personal Journals”. And hey, what better way to kick off songs of pain, insanity and grief than the sound of your heart snapping in half! Getting Back Together: Rammstein – Amour (Runner-Up: Lacuna Coil – Purify) Ha ha. It’s funny. Lacuna Coil both got me in and got me out of the whole “Female Progressive Metal” scene. I loved “Unleashed Memories” the first time I heard it, so much I grabbed “Comalies” as quickly as I could. And wow, that album…sucked. Seriously. By the time I was done with “Comalies” I couldn’t have cared less about Nightwish, Evanescence and…them. I’m still not really sure what I hate about it, I mean, it’s more dynamic, crisp and “evolved” than Memories was. Now that I think about it, that’s exactly why I hate “Comalies”. It’s coated with so many layers of glossy bullshit that the raw passion that I liked so much about “Unleashed Memories” is gone now. Looking back, “Purify” is a great song to “rekindle the flame” to. It’s passionate, pretty, apologetic, optimistic and strangely sensual. In fact, it’s a downright perfect song to rekindle the flame to. So why not use it? Because Lacuna Coil essentially told me to go screw myself with “Comalies” and it’ll be a long fucking day January before they get on MY life soundtrack. No, no, screw YOU Cristina Scabbia. And HEY! What the hell does BB stand for? BACKSTABBING BASTARD?! JOE MAMA?! If you wanna drink the rest of your life away after this trial, then that’s just fine with me, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna do it now, in MY house!…..sorry….sorry….I lost myself for a moment. Ahem…. It’s amazing, after putting out two phenomenal records that were leaps and bounds better than “Sehnsucht” people still think of Rammstein as that band who did “Du Hast”. Well screw them, more Rammstein for me you ungrateful bastards. In any case, the closing track to their 2004 epic “Reise, Reise” (which I’m long overdue to review now) makes for a good “let’s patch things up” song. Why? Because it sounds nice? Hell if I know, it just has that vibe to it. The song is about some guy addicted to love, and the lyrics don’t paint the jackal in such a flattering light. Secret Love: The Beatles – I Want You (She’s So Heavy) Geez, I can’t believe nobody has even mentioned this song yet…or maybe someone has, and I just missed it. B’ah, who cares? Anyway, this semi-improvised 7 minute epic takes the cake as The Beatles’ sexiest song. From the title, the whole thing just oozes with sexual frustration. I don’t know if it plays any part, but The Beatles have never sounded better on a recording. From Ringo’s opening drum palpitations, to Paul’s gyrating bass strumming (which is easily the highlight of the song), to John and George’s sly seductive raging guitars (and of course the other guy’s frenzied organ playing), they all sound fabulous, bloody fabulous. I think John deserves the biggest praise of all though, for taking two tiny statements of lust, and not only making the most out of them, but making them sound fresh and powerful with every utterance. Life’s OK: Common – Love Is…. Alright, essentially every song on “Be” is life affirming and positive, and if it’s not, every song at least sounds that way. Many, many people have gone on about why Common’s the greatest guy in the world, so I’m not even going to bother here. Mental Breakdown: Radiohead – How To Disappear Completely (Runner-Up: Rammstein – Spieluhr) (Secondary Runner-Up: Mos Def – Modern Marvel) (Tertiary Runner-Up: The Beatles – Revolution 9) Greetings. Welcome to the official Dynasty Headquarters website. Please fill out the following questionnaire, and if you find yourself saying “yes” to each of the incoming statements, you may precede. Otherwise, you will be asked to cease and desist any entry to the web page. Thank you, and have a nice day. Welcome. _ Have you ever attained sexual climax from other people’s suffering? _Have you found yourself shedding tears for false icons? _Have you found happiness in a barrel? _Have you ever imparted upon the gluttony of convenience? _Did you forget? ……………..Error. Error. Sensory overload. Sensor095uytgijetgoij904509740t3iwtgf843y986574075egjjr98807590760986-0ifjg;dafjlkjfd lhj0reu09834590838u0pt5ojholtju923u`19846398yh kdrmfhj[56i609uhnchkport09 624798ty60pjbmfd'6-5970-65iuyhmjrjy90487=ol ;S;dlv ,q85htng5w5-07686-5970-65iuyhmjrjy90487=ol ;S;dlv ,q85htng5w5-0768Process. Lemon. Rats. Anthem. Stress. Dial tone. Wall diminishing. Idiosyncrasy. Red tape. Warsaw. Annulled kiss. Zero. Star-crossed. The lance tongue. Arraignment. Livid fracture. The cross. Canned laughter. Gold toothed. Muzzle. Silhouettes locked in pavement. Clouds. A hearty handshake and a robust Portuguese grin will rot the best birth fence a man can build. One night, I lied on my back in a pitch black room and watched the blades of a fan move in a clockwise syncopation. As my pupils began to swell and dilate, the blades gradually took a circular form and grew into a brilliant white ellipse. The orb began to lift my body from the bed, and soon I was taken from the lightless room to a vibrant stream. I floated along the current, keeping my eyes on the disc, my eyes never blinking a moment. The wind hushed past my ear and began whispering an ancient lullaby into my head with nothing but my own exasperated breaths to serve as a palette. When I came to the waterfall, I floated briefly above the world, looking down upon its creation, at one with the frozen sky and the river. I lamented the old familiar feeling of teardrops scraping against fingernails. And then the light let me go, and I was sent spiraling into depths below….And when I came too….“I was home.” Incidentally, having “Treefingers” accompany this song was a brilliant idea. It gives a moment of clarity to rebuild yourself after Disappear destroys you! Hooray! Driving: Jello Biafra & The Melvins – Yuppie Cadillac Now this is what a driving song should be! Crude, loud, rude, piggish and obnoxious! Of course, it helps if it’s a scathing satire of crappy driving songs. A touchy tribute to the SUV courtesy of Punk Rock pioneer Jello Biafra and some other shlubs. The perfect song to blast as you run down children while talking on your cell phone and eating Krispy Kremes. Learning A Lesson: Gorillaz – Demon Days “So there I was, butt naked, chainsaw in hand, chasing that bitch down the corridor of my ‘residence hall’!” I continued, “Oh, if only you could have heard the coagulating sound we made as the blades ripped into her spleen!” I took a sip from my imaginary J&B on the rocks. “That’s nice” Jones says apathetically as he eyes a blonde hardbody bending over suggestively for some reason at the information desk. On today’s episode of TRL, 50 Cent’s “Just A Lil Bit”, and The Transplants’ “Gangsters And Thugs” fought it out for the top spot, and while Gangsters provided a valiant effort, 50’s number came out on top as middle class Caucasian fans cheered until their lungs were hoarse. I am currently having drinks in the lobby of my residence hall with Jones, and who I believe to be either Williams, or Jefferson (though Jones keeps referring to him as Stevens, and he hasn’t protested once yet). I am wearing a Fruit Of The Loom cotton white T-shirt with a logo of a green dragon moving in a concaved spiral breathing fire on the front, and a skull with a spade on the back (my father got it for free with a tattoo he acquired from a place called “Jade Dragon”), to go with a pair of tan cotton Dockers shorts. Jones is wearing a red double breasted wool sweater by Abercrombie and Fitch, and pair of black leather track pants with white stripes running down the sides by ADIDAS. The other guy is wearing a self-ripped red cotton shirt enclosed with safety pins, baring the words “Capitalism Is Like Meat!! Legalized Murder!!” on the front, and a pair of plaid corduroy pants. I am unsure of the designer of either, but in an earlier conversation today he told us he got a great deal on them from Banana Republic. “So, have any of you heard any good music lately?” I ask. Jones shrugs still watching the hardbody, “I dunno, I downloaded the singles from the leaked copy of the new Pennywise” he partially moans. “I burnt myself a copy of the new NOW” says the other guy casually as he reaches into his pocket for a cigarette, “Why?” “I don’t know”, I retort trying to sound as mellow as possibly, “I was just wondering if any of you heard the new Gorillaz album”. “Who the hell are they?” Jones grunts angrily now that the hard body’s just walked out of view. “They were that group that did “Clint Eastwood”, and then just kind of disappeared!” the other guy squeals proudly as if he’s just figured out the meaning of life. “Oh” Jones snorts, “Why the fuck do you care about those has-beens?” “Their new CD is a concept album about the extinction of the human race, and its final song and the title track encourages mankind to seek wisdom, to care for one another, and to grasp the beauty and divinity of life while it’s still within our reach” I respond, with a painfully unforced smile curling over my mouth as I recant the song to myself. A moment of silence passes between us for a couple of minutes; the two of them look at me uncomfortably, then exchange glances, and then back at me again. In this time, the other guy pouts and puts out his cigarette when he realizes nobody’s going to scold him for it, and Jones keeps fidgeted and looking around for something, presumably another hardbody. Finally Jones managed to muster out “………So?” My expression goes back to stern and I clear my throat. “Nothing” I coolly deliver, just barely saving myself. Jones checks the clock on his cell phone, fakes a yawn, and then gets up, “I don’t know, maybe if they release it as a single I’ll burn it somewhere.” He snorts and fakes another yawn, “C’mon, I know some guys who’ll get us beer for tonight” he says during the feigned stretch. Bryans and I nod our heads in unison and the three of us walk out. On our way out, I saw a colored man with dreadlocks, and though I didn’t care enough to see what clothes he was wearing, I raise up my first and holler “Rasta man!” at him. He gives me a dumbfounded look as I smack myself, “Sorry, MON!” Deep Thought: Pink Floyd – Welcome To The Machine (Runner-Up: Nine Inch Nails – Wish (J.G. Thirlwell Version) [not “Fist Fuck”]) (Secondary Runner-Up: Rammstein – Dalai Lama) One night not too long ago, I was eating at a Culver’s with my mom. In case you didn’t know, Culver’s is the hip, happening spot for 19 year-olds men who are destined to live with their parents until the day they die, but I digress. By luck of fate, we took a seat in front of the most batshit excuse of a family I’ve ever seen (at least I think they were a family). The dad kind of looked like a 60 year-old Al Bundy, yet he contained none of the toilet flushing charisma Bundy possessed. Throughout the meal, he ran around the restaurant frantically complaining about how cold it was (which to be fair, was pretty god damned cold). Not to mention, I went to the bathroom twice, to piss and to wash my hands after dinner, and I found him there just standing by the urinals with a stupid look on his face both times. Then there was the life, who I suspect to be a crack whore. Now I have a tendency to overuse that term a bit, but due to her pale complexion, erratic behavior and….odd state of dress, I literally believe her to be a promiscuous prostitute who happened to ingest cocaine on many an occasion. She was pretty quiet for most of the meal, until she spontaneously got up, screamed “I’m not dealing with you ignorant people anymore!” (to which the guy brilliantly retorted “It takes one to know one!”) and just stormed out never to be seen again. The daughter was the standout of the bunch. She couldn’t have been older than 5, and she actually seemed the most sane and mature of the lot. Sure, she was wearing some kind of goofy assed fairy outfit, but hey, I’ll blame that on the parents. Of course, I suppose it’s inevitable that she’ll one day grow up to either stalk men at urinals or perform ungodly acts for drugs like in that crappy Wyclef song that ends “The Score”. Oh well, hopefully she has at least 7 more years to enjoy the naivety of childhood. “Welcome To The Machine” kind of reminds me of that girl’s eventual struggle. It’s a song about man’s unwilling assimilation to the drudgery of work, and all of life’s other little ailments….or maybe it’s a touching tribute to their lost band member Syd Barrett. I don’t know, it kind of confuses me. I’ll go with the former because the atmosphere of the song isn’t too warm or friendly. In fact, the synthesizers kind of give the illusionary sense of brainwashing. Either way, it’s a tearjerker. I’d imagine Thirlwell’s extended version of “Wish” is the place where dreams go to die. As for “Dalai Lama”, it’s kind of like being trapped inside of an airplane in the middle of a violent storm (which considering the lyrics, was probably intentional). That may not sound like the best place to do some deep thinking, but you’d be surprised. Flashback: Nas – Memory Lane I’ve come to the realization that I have no good memories. None. They’re all either traumatic, embarrassing, or just flat out awkward. I thought about retelling “the garage sale” story (which followed the Culver’s story) I shared with one of the other members of the site, but I’m too lazy to retype it, and this damn thing has gotten WAY longer than it probably should have been, and people are going to start throwing stones at me if make anymore skirts with obtuseness. So I’m going to end this spontaneously. It’s got memory stuff. Partying: My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult – After The Flesh It’s got party stuff. Happy Dance: Prince – Let’s Go Crazy It’s happy and ironically enough you can dance to it. Regretting: AFI – The Leaving Song It’s weepy. Long Night Alone: Alias – Caged In, Wasting Away Okay, so I lied. And guess what? I’m about to lie again. I’m merely telling this to see myself type. Not too long ago, I saw some attractive looking denizens of the opposite sex and I thought it would be in my best interest to attempt to pounce on them like a rabid dog. So I used my A-Grade material, “Hey ladies, you know, I was once voted Illinois’s sexiest Saddam Hussein look-alike!” After a nasty knee related incident, I spent the night alone with an icepack over my testicles watching “Cheaters”. This song kind of describes the actions and aftermath of the day that never happened. Death Scene: Elliott Smith – King’s Crossing (Runner-Up: Pink Floyd – One Of The Few) (Secondary Runner-Up: Skinny Puppy – Download) The original ending here called for me to realize that I had dreamt the last 22 and a half hours in a coma fantasy. Me and my new apprentice “Fonso” are slowly walking to my Volkswagen automobile, when all of a sudden a morte black iron clad car drives up blasting a song…OF DOOM through the speakers of the stereo. “King’s Crossing” (not the song coming from the car) has been playing inside my head for sometime now, and it’s finally just sprung to life. “D’ah BOSS! Wut is tat sTUPID song?” Fonso asks plugging his ears. “I don’t know” I respond dramatically, “But that catchy jingle sounds DEATHLY familiar…let me process it…” And then I start singing the lyrics of the song to myself, “‘Come and knock on our door…..We’ve been waiting for….’ holy shit it’s the theme to ‘Three’s Company’!” I scream through a gasp. At this point, Elliott sings the line I can’t prepare for death anymore than I already have and the black car, previously trudging along, begins to deafeningly roar to life. The familiar face of Normal Fell, still bitter that I stole his “Frank Stallone” CD, pops out of the passenger window and screams “BREAK YO’SELF FOOL!” as he unloads a clip from an Uzi into my chest. Fonso attempts to pull out his gun and fire, but he drops it…and every time he bends down to pick it up, he keeps kicking it further and further away….“Pappy! Pappy” the helpless dolt screams in the hailstorm of gunfire. I stumble along, hoping to speak one final proverb before I sink into death’s cold grasp, unfortunately all I can muster is a gurgling noise as I fall face first into a conveniently located fountain. Even though this couldn’t have been longer than 15 seconds, Elliott sings the haunting final line of Don’t let me be carried away as I close my eyes for the last time. “One Of The Few” would also be a great song to die to. Actually, every song on “Final Cut” would be a great song to die to, but Few is a little more fitting. Hell, its final words are “Make ‘em lay down and die.” It’s kind of like watching an assassination transpire in slow motion. I wonder if this is what Roger Waters had in mind when he penned it. Closing Credits: Refused – Tannhauser / Derive The clouds began to merge together, taking various twisted forms of contortion, as the last few threads of light sank below the horizon. The plant life returned to its restless hibernation, as insects began to scour the Earth. The shadows reached from their arduous slumber and raked their claws over the soil. The moon, that legendary owl, returned to its thrown, ascending to the pearly gates of heaven. And in the blink of an eye, we all fade to black.

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