Well, bits for a musical written for a man’s carriage towards a girl that inspired Alice in Wonderland is noodly. Hypothetically it adds a layer of wacky bridges and impasses to the songs but titling an album The Brothers Anna Kareninamazov doesn’t you can skip the partridges of songwriting and violence.
But it certainly gives the title track some spicy peanut sauce, and maybe the knowledge can free your eggs from battery farming. It’s all that jazz, but when Tom lets down his hair and takes off those glasses and does a slow walk down the spiral stairs it does something to my opinion, let me tell you.
If you had a friend speak in Austrian for stretches at a time it’d be a real order of pepperoni for your Jewish friends. I like that one about as much as the Jews were in Egypt. Also I might need her for my upcoming trip to Austria.
They lit the Student centre AGAIN. Every fucking year they do it and every fucking year it only invites violence from the authorities. It doesn’t endear them and it doesn’t elect anyone different. But the beauty of the burning dissidence looked pretty. The Life and Death of Jeremy Cooper. The lavender phone bill on the squawking table is dancing a poplar tango. It’s love for a little girl! Of course it’s a waltz.
But while the title track is the real creme brulee, there’s more tastes throughout. “Bunion Betty” will have you singing “Bunion Betty, Bunion Betty, I Get Sweaty Just Thinking About My Bunion Betty” in your dreams and I guarantee you’ll never forget the newspaper title “Spot Opts: Stop Pots’ Tops” in your other dreams. You will, however forget all about Mouse Ned and His Freaking LinkedIn Profile as well as Keychain Blues the Laughing Larry and who knows about “Catty Cal” and “Fishing For Doughnuts.”
Sure, “Under the Table Dreaming” was better, but who can fault Tom Waits for drying up like a knife and shooting into the sky like cannonballs? Sure she’s pretty but you only liked her in the first place because she was pretty. What, you think she won’t be pretty and vain anymore? And how can she grasp beauty so much cleaner than she grasps grammar? And what’s with that boyfriend she never introduces you to? We grow older, and consider: I’m old enough that I played Super Mario for the NES when I was a child. Mine was the last major cohort to play things that truly sucked as a child. Will Call of Duty 4 deserve the same nostalgia? The shittyness gone by is what we miss. The apple’s gone but there’s always the core. The feeling of finding a genuine emotional moment in so much crap. A catchy tune when by rights it should have been a blur. It takes a special person to love “Love Story (You and Me)”, less so to love “Political Science” or “Ol’ 55”. Precocity is a good thing and I’m bitterly envious. Who will cut our hair when we’re gone? There’s precious little outside world to rue, it’s all for laughter now. Hamlet wasn’t such a sweet prince. I’ll be thirty in four years, will I go bald? I’ll jump off that bridge when I get there. There’s a whale in the moon when it’s clear.