For my 75th song, I picked one I wrote like 20 years ago. Psycho-folk song about rejecting mass media and embracing local community. Seems more relevant now than ever, and certainly a bit of a love song to this particular community, which has never gone the way of algorithmic walled-garden nor AIslop. Inspired by the title Cobain originally gave Radio Friendly Unit Shifter. Lyrics in fold.
Thought this was a good choice, because it's got fake drums, folk, punk, apocalyptic themes, was a Big Ghost song, and ends on a major 7th chord. All my usual schtick. Some drums from my little bro.
It blew out the department store speakers. No voice from above to explain. We all just tried to be good shoppers. The clerks had all fled from the scene. And bereft of Top40 to cover the screech of the clotheshanger's scraping, we made our escape. Bottle-necked at the exits until the crowd picked up steam, to erupt like a geyser out into the street.
In the windows the TVs were humming, a deafening monotone din. The color-test was held like a badge as if to say, "We ain't broke down but nothing's coming in." So it's rocks thru the windows of RadioShaq and the tabloid fires burning red, orange, and black. Then the sports bar came under attack. They got 15 flat panel screens. You can hear'em now, going CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Now it's been 15 weeks since the riot. The telephones lay in mass graves. The radio only sings static. The local paper's down to one page every other day. No news from the surrounding cities or towns. We only assume their wires are down, too. We'll send a search party but we just ain't got around to it. Cuz, in the meantime, we got enough to go around here. Yes we do.