g.rag/zelig implosion deluxxe (GER) <- BACK
three guys playing fourhand. pig – hen – ox – Zelig, kick the box. toolshed-music, swing it! Lay on the creeper, G.Rag and keep turning even the smallest notes. The cheat notes of all the guys who failed class anyway. Professor Deluxxe is drilling & buzzing it with the oscillator like a tram, the circuit is threatening to jump the rails. Come on, drive that tram to the beach. Or to the iron port of Portoferraio. And then there’s Monte Christo for the disco crowded with chairs. Wait a sec! You flooded the ocean and will get locked up, one way or another. So, take the elevator. Gather speed, ride the dishes straight to the hotel. What’s the tune at the busstop near the record store? Come here, get lost and come here, I’m telling you. Spin the wheel. Put in more gasoline. Radio noise. Gasoline, clutch, cut. VHF radio waves. Chop up the time. With chords against work. On and on. For 30 years you’ve been setting your sails: one amp, in parentheses loud, a kick, a snare and a drum stool. A cymbal and a stand. Two empty beer crates and a microphone. Oh, wait! You bring along your own mic. As far as the cable reaches. And then you must keep going on. No Wave never stops! (xxx Pico Be)
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