8 July 2011

"For example, if viewed as an "artist", David Bowie makes no sense at all. He seems to be little more than a perpetually spooked moth in slip-ons, sputtering, in a series of self-shaming leaps towards imagined relevance, from one swiftly guttering fad to another – grunge metal, drum and bass and having a skellington face. But imagine Bowie instead as a cunning lichen, an adaptive tuber or a semi-sentient mould, endlessly reshaping himself in search of the moisture of acclaim, and it is easy to understand him."

- Stewart Lee


I>C>E>|||T|||ish said...

living in am pm
cooling drinking apple juice
in evil's bm
the sounds up loud to attract attention
armorall tires on a lowered suspension
the naughty to deal with
alpine deck was glowing
pumping big daddy
the nigga was definitely flowing
i was riding shotgun
donald and hen in back
looked through the tent
recognized a jack
two brothas stroll up
talking 'bout get out
donald d blazed
shot one fool through his fucking mouth
why would they step
when they know we're strapped
i never cruise l.a. without a gat in my lap
the other fool shot
caught hen g in the shoulderblade
these mothafockas was ill
they hadn't come to play
shot them up
i see one cop fall
threw it in gear
now i'm outta y'all

now it's six in the morning

Anonymous said...