Its pasteurised for the iPod generation
No digital artifacts in the mix
Clear and compressed to the Max
But whatever happened to the real thing?
Electricity humming through valves
Feedback and amplifier hiss
To clean this all up is to gut music
Make it a pre-packaged commodity
Rather than an intense live experience
I want my music bloody and dirty
To be able to hear feedback
And the vocalist sounding like
He's singing in a toilet
Wailing like a banshee to the muse
Of his own blood stained vomit
While the guitarist smacked out of his head
Strikes chords no one has ever heard before
And the drummer only barely keeps the beat
Making the bass player scowl because
He's the only serious member of the band
All of them trying to be the Velvet Underground
How did they make that sound
Of greatness always falling just short?
© shaun patrick green 2011
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