Shouts
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ctd55
The only song on the album that approaches pastiche. It opens as a biting imitation of country music, with generic guitar picking you'd hear behind a horseback rides on sun-baked trails in B westerns. But this is no leisurely ride, and there are no open trails in the Mekonsverse. Nor is movie music this unruly, with out-of-tune fiddling, amateurish banjo-picking, cheap sound effects, and affected voice acting ("they spoke in tongues--wahwahwahwah"). Still, the drums pound away to keep us moving on. But where are we headed? The lyrical imagery--injuries, lost battles, head injuries, escapes into the night, and T. Rex allusions--is too fragmented to say. The one constant--a constant throughout the first side of the album--is night. It's now the dead of night, and we're animated more by fear than whiskey. The sun is buried far below the horizon. Yesterday's sunlight is forgotten, and tomorrow's is far away. We're just muddling through darkness and doubt until dawn breaks.
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