Friday, August 03, 2007


Welcome to Blog d’Elisson’s Friday Random Ten, the weekly feature in which I post a selection of Choons drawn at random from the fabled iPod d’Elisson.

This weekend finds me in my occasional Bachelor Father role, the Missus having flown off to Washington, D.C., there to spend a long weekend with Elder Daughter. She’s staying at E.D.’s new digs, a cozy little apartment hard by DuPont Circle. It’s the last weekend of freedom before school resumes on Monday...and it’s also the last weekend before our old white Formica kitchen countertops are replaced with nice new slabs of granite.

I’m looking forward to that. Not the process of replacement, mind you, which will be unpleasant and chaotic, but the end result. Especially since we’re putting in a new gas stovetop. Why anyone would build a house down here in Gas Country and put in an electric rangetop is beyond me, but we’ve lived with the fucking thing for nine years and it’s time to move on. B’ratzon Hashem, next week at this time, we’ll be cookin’ with gas!

But enough blather. Now, sit back and enjoy the Variegated Spewage from my Little White Choon-Box:
  1. Prenzlauerberg - Beirut
  2. Angelina Zooma Zooma - Louis Prima
  3. Zoom Zoom Zoom - Only The Strong
  4. O Pato - Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd
  5. Your Song - Elton John
  6. Mister President - The KGBGs
  7. The Beginning (Anima Mundi) - Philip Glass
  8. Wake Up - Rage Against The Machine

    Come on!

    Come on, although ya try to discredit
    Ya still never edit
    The needle, I’ll thread it
    Radically poetic
    Standin’ with the fury that they had in ’66
    And like E-Double I’m mad
    Still knee-deep in the system’s shit
    Hoover, he was a body remover
    I’ll give ya a dose
    But it’ll never come close
    To the rage built up inside of me
    Fist in the air, in the land of hypocrisy

    Movements come and movements go
    Leaders speak, movements cease
    When their heads are flown
    ’Cause all these punks
    Got bullets in their heads
    Departments of police, the judges, the Feds
    Networks at work, keepin’ people calm
    You know they went after King
    When he spoke out on Vietnam
    He turned the power to the have-nots
    And then came the shot

    Yeah, back in this...
    Wit’ poetry, my mind I flex
    Flip like Wilson, vocals never lackin’ dat finesse
    Whadda I got to, whadda I got to do to wake ya up
    To shake ya up, to break the structure up
    ’Cause blood still flows in the gutter
    I’m like takin’ photos
    Mad boy kicks open the shutter
    Set the groove
    Then stick and move like I was Cassius
    Rep the stutter step
    Then bomb a left upon the fascists
    Yea, the several federal men
    Who pulled schemes on the dream
    And put it to an end
    Ya better beware
    Of retribution with mind war
    20/20 visions and murals with metaphors
    Networks at work, keepin’ people calm
    Ya know they murdered X
    And tried to blame it on Islam
    He turned the power to the have-nots
    And then came the shot

    What was the price on his head?
    What was the price on his head!

    I think I heard a shot
    I think I heard a shot
    I think I heard a shot
    I think I heard a shot
    I think I heard a shot
    I think I heard, I think I heard a shot

    “He may be a real contender for this position should he
    abandon his supposed obediance to white liberal doctrine
    of non-violence...and embrace black nationalism”
    “Through counter-intelligence it should be possible to
    pinpoint potential trouble-makers...And neutralize them,
    neutralize them, neutralize them”

    Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
    Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

    How long? Not long, ’cause what you reap is what you sow

  9. Inside Out - Paul Cantelon
  10. Noviy God (live) - Leningrad
It’s Friday. What are you listening to?

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