Album
is Latin for white. No-one knows who called it The White Album. My turntable
copy crackles and undulates in the January of Planet Nine, a great accidental
classical pun of modern music. Album was a white board on which Romans placed public
notices. Only cheeky chaps of Albion jested at the USSR or said of revolution,
that won’t help make it with anyone anyhow. The White Album remains a chronicle
of 1968. The Fabs almost called it A Doll’s House, but it’s an album in the
very Victorian sense, a collection of varied stuff stuck onto white white
spaces.
Showing posts with label Fab. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fab. Show all posts
Sunday, 24 January 2016
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Fab
Fab
adolescent adulation
brilliant b-sides
cavern
crescendos
drug dreams
electric etudes
fab four
george's gifts
hamburg
hell
indian instrumentals
jealous john
king kite
lysergic
london
mister moonlight
nowhere now
ob-la-di ob-la-da
paul's pathos
queen's question
ringo's revolutions
stadium
screaming
television twist
unrehearsed universe
varied volumes
worried walrus
deluxe tax
yoko yeah
z-cars zoetrope
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