Tuesday, June 8, 2010

You'll never recognize yourself on Heartattack & Vine

Tired of reading about Lady Gaga? I'm not, but just in case you want to see what actual musical decadence looks like (first song starts around 1:10):

"Heartattack and Vine"
liar liar with your pants on fire,
white spades hangin' on the telephone wire,
gamblers reevaluate along the dotted line,
you'll never recognize yourself on Heartattack and Vine.

doctor lawyer beggar man thief,
Philly Joe Remarkable looks on in disbelief,
if you want a taste of madness, you'll have to wait in line,
you'll probably see someone you know on Heartattack and Vine.

Boney's high on china white, shorty found a punk,
don't you know there ain't no devil? there's just God when he's drunk,
well this stuff will probably kill you, let's do another line,
what you say you meet me down on Heartattack and Vine?

better off in Iowa against your scrambled eggs,
than crawling down Cahuenga on a broken pair of legs,
you'll find your ignorance is blissful every goddamn time
you're waitin' for the RTD on Heartattack and Vine.

"Til the Money Runs Out"
check this strange beverage that falls out from the sky,
splashin' Bagdad on the Hudson in Panther Martin's eyes,
he's high and outside wearin' candy apple red,
Scarlet gave him twenty seven stitches in his head,
with a pint of green chartreuse ain't nothin' seems right,
you buy the Sunday paper on a Saturday night.

can't you hear the thunder? someone stole my watch,
I sold a quart of blood and bought a half a pint of scotch,
someone tell those Chinamen on Telegraph Canyon Road,
when you're on the bill with the spoon there ain't no time to unload,
so bye bye baby baby bye bye.

droopy stranger lonely dreamer toy puppy and the prado,
we're laughin' as they piled into Olmos' el dorado,
Jesus whispered eni meany miney moe,
they're too proud to duck their heads that's why they bring it down so low,
so bye bye baby baby bye bye.

the pointed man is smack dab in the middle of July,
swingin' from the rafters in his brand new tie,
he said I can't go back to that hotel room; all they do is shout,
but I'll stay with you, baby, till the money runs out,
so bye bye baby baby bye bye.

Lady Gaga, love her though I do, is really for those trying to up their performativity. Tom Waits sings for everyone who's passed the aesthete's point of no return.

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