[Back in the day, when I was going to college at UNLV, chicken wings were either good or they were bad. Bitter wind was blowing, hurling prickly fine snow into my face.]

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[Back in the day, when I was going to college at UNLV, chicken wings were either good or they were bad. Bitter wind was blowing, hurling prickly fine snow into my face.]
K Anderson - Bitter Wind
I will never be that boy
London-based singer-songwriter K Anderson channels Robert Smith on his new single, “Bitter Wind.” It’s a brooding track with a haunting melody and a touch of harmonic tension that's darkly immersive. “I let you choose who you wanted me to be,” he muses as the song approaches its cathartic end.
In a press release, Anderson explained the story behind the lyrics: “I came out when I was 12, and my parents never seemed to have an issue with it. But, during this trip [to Blackpool], they wanted to introduce me to members of my family that I had never met, and they asked me to keep my sexuality a secret - to go back in the closet. A seemingly small request, but it threw up a lot of questions about their acceptance of who I am and who they may want me to be.”
Follow K at @kandersonmusic.
Some original lineups end up destroyed thanks to a myriad of factors, including many personal problems. For instance – while Moby Grape returned to their early personnel, if we squint, their double LP Wow / Grape Jam – these two discs were sold separately, funnily enough – provided a fine closure for them. I mean, I'm shocked they managed to make such a diverse collection of tunes thanks to the fact Skip Spence was already on his way to meet Syd Barrett for a drink, if you catch my drift. However, one wishes they would've found a way to make this work later on, since these two platters are a work on the collective firing on all cylinders. Of course, the reason for me saying that lies in the quality of the songs, which – let's be honest – would've probably been hard to achieve later.
to the words cut in stone. (Yosa Buson 1716-1783)
image from gallery sjsu
Wrapped up in a blanket this Pashtun crosses a brook with his blanket wound around him against the bitter wind.
from the 1968 album Wow