“There’s always music in the air…” #1: ‘3 O’Clock’ by Oxbow

First in an ongoing series of posts highlighting Lynchian sounds and musics (as defined by The Double R Club and I) that may have flown under the radar of many and which perhaps one might even imagine appearing at The Roadhouse in some future, imaginary episode…

From the opening burst of distant industrial growl, to the slow jazz crawl and somehow both aggrieved and aggressive lethargy of the thing, those descending bass notes, the insistent yet lazy ride cymbal and then of course, as the song lumbers along, mean-spirited and nightmarish, the hysteria-infused meandering mumblings and shrieks of Eugene Robinson, this song’s disparate desperate parts combine to make a truly unsettling affair.

The track is from Oxbow‘s storming Serenade In Red and is worth a purchase should you wish to hear what it sounds like when a man turns himself inside out over the course of an album; other highlights include the thundering, stuttering menace of ‘Lucky’ and their truly unhinged version of Willie Dixon’s blues classic ‘Insane Asylum’ (on which they are joined  Marianne Faithfull!) and which they entitle, perversely, ‘Insylum‘.

oxbow

Check ’em out live if ever you can, they will fuck you up in the best way possible.

Lyrics:

Black tie and- and jacket over chair back
My figure fat and fucking gunnysacked
Casting broke-wing shadows on the duvet
While baby sleep, baby sleep, baby sleep
Yeah and baby talks away
Like a… liar, LIAR! Yeah my heads on fire
Bent over your dreaming (your dreaming)
I hear the- the scheme- scheme- SCREAMING
And like Jesus now, I sleep -almost never

Who- Who the hell- is that man, that man?
That man you see in your sleep?
What kind of company do you keep
when I am gone?
I am the love of what is wrong
And that waits for me from dusk on through dawn
Hot, hot, hot and hating me and itching to be free
Looking for another way, eat me
Looking for another way to fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me!

Love, love, love
Listen to the tongue you speak
When the days turn into days of no sleep
And oh God, I am so weak, I am so weak
And you are killing me
But in her crescent-cut eye
I see the spark that means awake
And wonder why
Someone always has to die

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~ by benjaminlouche on July 6, 2017.

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