The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

The Art of Pop #27

Space Escapade
(Les Baxter)
(Capitol Records; 1958)


Peter Nellhaus said...

Earthmen are easy!

estiv said...

I love the springs on the women's heads. That identifies them as aliens.

Mr DeBakey said...

"springs on the women's heads"

Lets look that up in the Intergalticapeadia, shall we?

Hmmm...springs...women's heads...

Ahh, those apring are from a Plymouth Satellite,
driven faster than the speed of light

swac said...

Oddly enough, I heard a bit of nature trivia today about male spiders having a kind of coil device on their heads that they jam into their mates' hoo-hahs after impregnating them, thereby ensuring no other male can, uh, come afterwards.

The things you learn...

candy sue said...

the best fonts are always on this guy's records.