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Posts Tagged ‘Music’

Metallica is one of the few bands that have stayed with me. Seeing them live at Green Point stadium in the days before Cokefest (it was still called something else back then) was a total wet dream for me. That being said, I never understood the meaning of ‘One,’ universally recognised as one of Metallica’s best and favourite songs. I never knew what it was about.

Until today. My faith in the age old days of metal telling a story has returned. The song is actually based on a book called ‘Johnny Got His Gun,’ which has instantly been added to my reading list, not because of it’s association to Metallica, but rather because if it’s plot:

Joe Bonham, a young soldier serving in World War I, awakes in a hospital bed after being caught in the blast of an exploding artillery shell. He gradually realizes that he has lost his arms, legs, and face, but that his mind functions perfectly, leaving him a prisoner in his own body. He tries to die by suffocating himself but he has been given a tracheotomy, which he cannot remove or control. He attempts to communicate with his doctors by banging his head on his pillow in Morse code. His wish is that he may be put in a glass tube and tour the country, to show people the true horrors of war. His wish is never granted, however, and it is implied that he will live the rest of his natural life in this condition.

As he drifts between reality and fantasy, he remembers his old life with his family and girlfriend, and reflects upon the myths and realities of war. He also forms a bond, of sorts, with a young nurse who senses his plight.

Just this synopsis sends shivers down my spine. This book needs to be read. And I will never listen to that song in the same way again. Close your eyes, draw the blinds, and listen (lyrics here):

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Let me preface today’s post with an apology. Yesterday I promised you a post on America’s Next Top Model. This was the plan, but upon sauntering down to the living room to watch the bitches in 32″ widescreen glory, I was confronted by something horrible. A recap episode. The Horror. Apart from a little gem from ultra-bitch Jade, along the lines of “I’m made of humble, that’s just part of who I am,” there really wasn’t much more to say. One can only assume that the reason this week was a recap was because the girls were being taught something that couldn’t be shown on TV. Like the self-bikini wax, or how to work with credit cards and rolled up dollar bills. Both essential skills in the modelling industry, I might add.

So, in lieu of there being no 30 Rock or even Survivor either (damn Twenty20 World Cup! It’s not even real cricket.), I have found something to write about. Inspired by MusicLady’s post on Little Miss Miley, I have decided to come out. I have a slight obsession. With someone amazing. Her:

No Caption Required.

No Caption Required.

Now I must say, once I left the world of radio, I hardly ever listened it. But on closer inspection, Lady GaGa is set to take over the world.

There’s a lot to like. She dances, she sings, and refers to her VaJayJay as her ‘muffin.’ And she has amazing amount of talent. Now I’m the first to admit that she does nothing more than make pop music. Srsly. That’s all it is. But she’s going to take over the world. Trust me.

Why? Because not only can she sing, dance, play poker with her face and poke her muffin, but she’s smart as shit. She knows exactly how to play her market. Sure, she may have about 1 000 people working their asses off to work her own personal brand, but I have a sneaky feeling she’s got a lot to say about it as well. Unlike, Britney, Christina, or the rest, she seems a little less… uhm… ‘manufactured.’ And when she plays live, she actually plays instruments. And who doesn’t like a juicy, crunchy synth?

I got a hold of her CD recently, and to be quite honest, I’ve listened through it about 15 times now. Having now gotten over my initial shame, I can honestly say this Lady is the tits.

The only thing I don’t like about her, is that she’s so damn famous. Which results in people of below-average intelligence, hopped up on brandy and coke, loving her music. Which sucks. Because it means I have something in common with them now. Grrrr. I’m trying my best to look past it and indulge my guilty pleasure.

Finally, some decent pop music.

Finally, some decent pop music.

This lady is going to go far.

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I was completely unaware of this fact, but whilst stumbling through the internets, I came across this on Richard Cole King’s blog. Fokofpolisiekar are making a movie. Now this isn’t a music blog. So I’m not going to analyse the so-called ‘musical revolution,’ that is Fokofpolisiekar. But for a band that was, and still is, all about the Afrikaans, I giggled a bit on the inside when I saw that the majority of the ‘fokumentary’ is done in English… Broader market, wider appeal… yeah, yeah, I know. But still.

This should be quite something.

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Idols is dead. If it isn’t, it should have been killed a long time ago. Srsly. So imagine the shock and horror when I noticed for the first time the horror that is the following:

Kids, we are fucked.

Kids, we are fucked.

I’ve lived in res. Near the shower. And as much as most res-dwellers believe they can sing Hinder’s “Lips of an Angel’ in perfect key in the shower, they can’t. Trust me. I used it as a trusty alarm clock without fail for about a month. And despite this university’s fine history of sêr and even the fact that Heinz Winckler, South Africa’s first Idols winner, was a Matie, here is my prediction: We. Are. Screwed.

Res kids are about to climb out of the shower.

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I have cast my vote. Done and dusted. All in all the whole process was rather pain-free… Yes, there was a queue, but I had my iPod, and for some reason, listening to Rage Against the Machine seemed Right in the circumstances. You know, angry political music. My song of choice, Township Rebellion. Some of the lyrics seemed to jump out at me, as I stood in the line, thinking about the state of our country… I have made bold what I think spoke to me…

Rebel, rebel and yell
Cause our people still dwell in hell
Locked in a cell
Yes, the structures a cell
Mad is the story I tell
How long can we wait?
Come on, seein what’s at stake
Action for reaction
If your minds in a somewhat complacent state
Get a check up
This is a stick up
Our freedom or your life
Lord, I wish I could be peacful
But there can be no sequel

Now freedom must be fundamental
In johannesburg or south central
On the mic, cause someone should tell em
To kick in the township rebellion

Yeah, what about that sucker?

Yeah, so you thought you could get with the hardlines
That fill your mind
Thoughts, battles fought
And lessons taught

Yes I’ll display the fitness
And flip like a gymnast
Raise my fist and resist
Asleep, though we stand in the midst
Of the war
Gotta get mine
Gotta get more
Keepin the mic warm against the norm
Cause what does it offer me?
I think often it’s nothin but a coffin

Gotta get wreck
Till our necks never swing on a rope
From here to the cape of no hope

Now freedom must be fundamental
In Johannesburg or south central
On the mic, cause someone should tell em
To kick in the township rebellion

Why stand on a silent platform?
Fight the war, fuck the norm (4 times)

(guitar solo)

Why stand on a silent platform?
Fight the war, fuck the norm (4 times)

What’s it gonna take?
Euuurrrggghhhhh!

Shackle their minds when they’re bent on the cross
When ignorance reigns, life is lost
Shackle their minds when they’re left on the cross
When ignorance reigns, life is lost
Shackled our minds when were bent on the cross
When ignorance reigns, life is lost
Shackled our minds when were left on the cross
When ignorance reigns, life is lost, lost, lost!

Shackle your minds and you’re left on the cross!
When ignorance reigns, life is lost!
Just shackle your minds when you’re bent on the cross!
When ignorance reigns, life is lost, lost!

Why stand on a silent platform?
Fight the war, fuck the norm

Now whilst not 100% applicable to our current politics, I think there is definitely something that can be said here. And standing in line, this seemed very appropiate.

Go vote. It’s the right thing to do.

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