4.20.2007

Avant Rock Dog Walk






smashed a pabst and leashed up the beast. B was sick of dark-sounding music and I liked the cover of this one, so we loaded up this dude Jean-Claude Vannier, friend of gainsbourg. Happy stuff? We were hoping. Naked man on the beach. Looks like a happy situation. 'cept actually looks maybe a little frightening and lonely. Here we go.


Still light out, but cold... goddamn cold for April. We're gonna stick to the neighborhood tonight, baby. Hmm..., church bells, a match being lit, automobiles? I check the volume on my music transporter. Sure, that must be jean-claude, taking a walk of his own. Ah, here's some horns. Some xylophone. B is really shaking her butt now. It's really good and I'm smiling, but there is something a little strange, a little off. What's it called? "L'ENFANT ASSASSIN DES MOUCHES." Child killer, maybe? I don't speak French. Damn. 1972 says the small computer in my pocket.


We pass a really old church, which evokes roughly the same mixture of emotions as this french freak. We walk up the steps to the front door. I think it's abandoned. I hope so.


There is something above the door. Just a word, artfully carved, "DARLOM". Eh. I want to buy this church, for K and B. Vannier's got some danger chimes going now and some spy guitar. He wants me to go in. It's locked, man, and the sun's up for another 3 hours. Church choir now. I try the door. It is locked, but I feel compromised, and walk away. Theres now an orchestra of alarms, the old kind with the hammer. Now crickets. This album is an f-ing riot. '72? Sounds right, I guess. A little like a psycho Burt Bacharach. No vocals yet. Well, actually lots of voices, but they're chanting and gasping, part of the orchestration. No words, but i still feel like there is some narrative here.

Clock is ticking. Another church. This one's active. I could go in, so I don't want to. B sees the park. Tail is thumping. She takes off and I'm left alone on the steps of yet another church. Gunshot. Little girl's voice, spooky french. And a man gasping. He's afraid and why not? This girl seems to be narrating his murder. Loud shot turns into a waltz and all is well again, I guess. B is beat and ready for home. Me too. I will have to learn about this crazy Vannier shit.



5 comments:

Anonymous said...

i think your avant dog walks are my favorite blogs to read. maybe in the world.

senordustin said...

thanks man. I didn't know anyone read 'em.

Anonymous said...

The child assassin of the flies. Or something.

senordustin said...

Yeah, I think thats right, anonymous.
Thanks.

brian said...

i'm a fan of them too. especially this one.

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