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Fetid Fetish
by Dan
Please note: MP3s are only kept online for a short time, and if this entry is from more than a couple of weeks ago, the music probably won't be available to download any more.
The Fall - "Y.F.O.C. / Slippy Floor" A stranger approaches. He walks with indignity, as if he were always in a bathrobe. But he is not in a bathrobe, he is in acid wash, tight acid wash denim, his body rolling slightly around all its edges. His smile seems to roll out of his face like an excess, like a an unsightly pimple. His hair is long and graying and coming out of a toque. His hands are stained with bike grease and his shoes are breaking open on one side. The stranger continues to approach. He approaches a group of younger people, all at least ten years his junior, and none of whom he knows. "Hey, anybody know if there are still tickets to the Gay Dusty Springfield show?" A long pause. The smoke break quickly becomes a smoke race as they all hurry to finish their cigarettes. "I don't know, I guess ask inside," says one, with a regal scarf and steel sunglasses. "Cool, yeah," and the stranger has already settled in. "I saw them like 10 years ago, but I can't wait to see them again, they're so great. Anybody here going?" A long pause. One goes inside, the winner of the smoke race. Another picks up a flyer from the windowsill, and stares at it, suddenly rapt. The stranger clears his throat and smiles, that unwanted, goes-to-a-party-just-to-offer-massages kind of smile, and grabs for the flyer. "Check it out," he says. Reluctantly, the smoker gives up the flyer. "Check it out," says the stranger, "Check this out. If you just--" and he throws the flyer like a frisbee at the young man. It hits his coat and falls to the ground. The stranger picks it up. "'Kay, wait.." The stranger holds the flyer like he's trying to skip a stone across a calm lake, and throws it again against the young man's chest. Again it falls to the ground. "Shit, I used to be able to..Hold on, check it out," he says while picking it up. Toss. Fall. Pick up. "Shit, no, I can do this. I learned this, it's hilarious, just check it," toss, "--damn it." You can see his hands are getting cold and his nose is starting to run. "Just wait, I used to be able to do this." -- [The Fall are STILL DOING IT, pre-order Your Future Our Clutter from Domino UK] Posted by Dan at March 12, 2010 2:53 AMComments
Ouch, but thank you. Posted by a at March 17, 2010 3:10 PMPost a comment |
this is a daily sampler of really good songs. all tracks are posted out of love. please go out and buy the records!
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all songs are removed within a week or two of posting. said the gramophone launched in march 2003, and added songs in november of that year. it was one of the world's very first mp3blogs. if you would like to say hello, find out our mailing addresses or invite us to shows, please get in touch: montreal, canada: sean toronto, canada: jordan montreal, canada: dan please don't send us emails with tons of huge attachments; if emailing a bunch of mp3s etc, use a service like MailBigFile. if you are the copyright holder of any song posted here, please contact us if you would like the song taken down early. please do not direct link to any of these tracks. please love and wonder. "and i shall watch the ferry-boats / and they'll get high on a bluer ocean / against tomorrow's sky / and i will never grow so old again." we are a member of MBV.
about the authors
Sean Michaels lives in Montreal, where he is writing a novel. His work also occasionally appears at McSweeney's. Follow him on Twitter or reach him here.
Dan Beirne is an actor and writer living in Montreal. He writes fiction fiction fiction on here. It may feel true, but it is never True. He is most proud of his most recent project The Bitter End. Email him here Jordan Himelfarb lives in Toronto, where he is editor in chief of The Mark. Jordan's posts appear at Said the Gramophone only on the last Wednesday of every month. Email him here. Site design and header typography by Neale McDavitt-Van Fleet. The header graphic is randomized: this one is by .
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