Jerry Rogers’ Raspberry Radio. What can we say about it. Take 80’s new wave, toss in The Buggles, and L.A. weirdo pop, then maybe we can kind of describe it. But it doesn’t. Because it’s just very, very good. It’s that raspberry on top of that melted ice-cream sundae. You know what we mean?
The skinny on this – as far as from the CHF point of view – is that it’s just a kick-ass dirty, synth, growl of a repetitive chaos. Sonically, it drives us mad. Lyrically, the limited scope drills our solar plexus to bits. The gravity of the song just makes us grind up against the wall, by ourselves.
“Cut that grass correctly, Timmy!” the home owner demanded. “Better not see any waste of time,” as he gulped down the iced-tea in front of his summer helper.
Timmy is 13 years old. High on life, if he wasn’t cutting grass for summer dollars. He’s a ginger, as well, and he thought that was unique of him. He seemed frail, but kicked ass at the board game of “Go”.
He knew he had the balls of a winner. He was just very curious when his time of triumph would come.
At 20 years old? At 30 years old? At 40 years old?!
Well, for now, “I’ll do my best with ass-whoopin’ these grass blades (aka nature’s living ground decorations) in front of my neighbor’s yard.”
The lawn mower ran out of gas, at that point.
What a day.
Oh, and dig this song, or be square. Unless, if you think being square is fab, then…