15th November 1999, 12:40 am
I am again on the internet, the fourth time this weekend.. and I think my boy is ready to smash in the computer. He's outside watching Kull The Conqueror on PayTV. I don't have much to write right now (excuse the play on words there). But I did find this at alt.Goth and found it amusing.....
Ok, OK so I couldn't resist.. I said I wouldn't put myself down on this "teenybopper" level.. but I just have to include a few pics of one of the greatest musical geniuses known to rock music.. ( equal with Trent That is..)
This is Daniel Johns, singer, writer, guitarist and excellent lyricist of the Australian band silverchair.
check out their site HERE
Here are also the lyrics to my three favourite songs off of the new album, "Neon Ballroom". (I'll eventually add other stuff somewhere in the Labrynth and group this with it..)
Erupt again ignore the pill And I won't let it show Sacrifice the tortures Orchestral tear cash-flow Increase delete escape defeat It's all that matters to you Cotton case for an iron pill Distorted eyes when everything is clearly dying
Burn my knees and Burn my knees and Burn my knees and E-motion sickness Addict with no heroine E-motion sickness Distorted eyes when everything is clearly dying
Burn my knees and Burn my knees and pray Burn my knees and Burn my knees and pray [All my friends say] Get up get up get up get up Get up get up get up Won't you stop my pain
E-motion sickness [To idle with an idol] Addict with no heroine Good things will pass It helps with excess access Lessons learnt
E-motion sickness [Lost no friendship] [Corrosive head pollution] Lessons learnt
I absolutely would have to say this is my favourite song.. The guitar in it is excellent.. ( I have the tabs if anyone wants it..) David Helfgott plays piano on this piece too. (He inspired the Geoffrey Rush Film "Shine".) Daniel's voice on this track could make angels stop and listen....
Please die Ana For as long as you're here we're not You make the sound of laughter and sharpened nails seem softer And I need you now somehow And I need you now somehow
Open fire on the needs designed On my knees for you Open fire on my knees desires What I need from you
Imagine pageant In my head the flesh seems thicker Sandpaper tears corrode the film
And I need you now somehow And I need you now somehow
Open fire on the needs designed On my knees for you Open fire on my knees desires What I need from you
And you're my obsession I love you to the bones And Ana wrecks your life Like an Anorexia life
Open fire on the needs designed On my knees for you Open fire on my knees desires What I need from you Open fire on the needs designed Open fire on my knees desires On my knees for you
(I recently preformed this song as my rock piece for my Music HSC preformance, and I cried... I love this song.)
Contain yourself I will compress What I am to Replace yourself With what you have Your substitute Only wanted a piece of myself Steam will rise Esteem will rise Steam will rise Esteem will rise
Refrain, confess Contain, repress Pretend I'm dead Abuse myself Confuse myself I won't be led
Only wanted a piece of myself Only wanted a piece of myself Only wanted a piece of myself Steam will rise Esteem will rise Steam will rise Esteem will rise
There are some really good effects on Daniel's voice at the end of this song, It sounds like it's been sampled onto a keyboard then manually played...check it out!
Wednesday 17th November, 1999, 12:30 am
I love alt.gothic.net....
This is just some random stuff.. mostly from alt.gothic..
This may be kind of cheesy, but being goth, for me, is seeing beauty, and its coming destruction, at the same time. For me.. It's the last dance as the walls are crumbling around you...
-Beatgrrl
Magic
With wings of dark crimson A dragon flies overhead But nobody in the busy city Pays attention to the massive form Too buy to care they Pass it off as a jet plane
A winged horse gallops Through a crowded park Its coat a shimmering white But nobody cares to look up Too busy with their lives To observe this pegasus' flight
On a street corner a burning Red phoenix prepares for its pyre But nobody around takes The time even glance Too busy checking the time To see the reincarnation fire
People in this world laugh At the mention of magic And never stop to notice That acts of wonder happen Everyday everywhere right In front of their eyes
-Leonora
You see, I have special eyes. They're overloaded with the little cones, or possibly the little cones are oversensitive - if I can see light at all, I see color. And there are no colors like those one sees under the moon. I'm reminded of the words of the poet "thus mellow'd to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies" - perhaps Van Gogh could paint this. Perhaps he did, one Starry Night. And the moon is so amazing. Silvery - magickal, I want to be out in it - to go play.
-klaatu
I just thought of something... I'm sitting here listening to "Piggy" by NIN, and the drums in this song are excellent, and I want to be at a great big concert, watching Trent do his stuff on stage, flailing my arms into those of other "studded goths", aquiring all the obligatory NIN moshpit injuries, while those fuckers who are but 3 or 4 years older than me look down their noses at me and call me a "poseur-goth" while listening to Sisters Of Mercy and Bauhaus, not acknowlodging the fatc that I like that music too, even though I DO like the "sttereotypical-goth-bands" like NIN, Marilyn Manson and Filter. Those "goth-as-fuck" real goths are so much better than me *sigh*
-Ashe
But I've lost that as well. Along with mystery, fantasy, and dreams of what-may-be. If I believed I had a soul, I might even say that I lost that, to "reality". Someone else's naked, cold, painful reality. A reality that scrapes at your dreams and wishes like sandpaper at a baby's tender skin. In that reality, there is no life beyond death, no faeries, no possibility of ghosts, banshees, or vampires. Magic doesn't exist, it's all a figment of one's wonderful, complex brain. And so I've lost my muse. Basically by screaming at him that he didn't exist, and never did. Heh. Basically, you shouldn't care about me, because I've told everything that once kept me happy that it wasn't real, and didn't exist. And so it went away. I don't know if it will take me back.
-Carrie
"What are you supposed to be?" was the question the average-looking mundane man asked me while I was standing in line at KFC tonight. Being somewhat surprised that someone even spoke to me (it doesn't happen often, due to my intimidating demeanor, I suppose), I still managed a quick comeback: "A damned weirdo-- isn't it obvious?" It didn't seem to be the reply he was expecting or even hoping for. Looking somewhat confused, he said, "oh," and left with his dinner in hand. He seemed disappointed that I didn't attempt some longwinded explanation, and also that I didn't appear flustered by his big "confrontation." As I sat eating my dinner, I started to ponder the question. Just what the hell AM I supposed to be, relative to J. Random Mundane? I'm a bit of colorful (not literally) background to their otherwise drab and routine lives. Wouldn't it be that much more boring if everyone they encountered looked, acted, and spoke pretty much the same way they do? I provide their day with something memorable; they can say to themselves, "Oh yes, I remember last Wednesday. That was the night I saw that tall weird guy in KFC." I'm an example. They can look at me and be thankful they're not weird like me; that their god made them and their family and their children good, wholesome people, and not some black-clad weirdo who probably drinks blood and does drugs and worships satan. Just by looking at me, they can feel superior, and this makes them feel good about themselves. They can pity me, and pray for my soul, and be all the better for it. I'm a scapegoat. I, and those like me, embody everything that's wrong with the world these days, all rolled up into one convenient, evil- looking package. Drugs, violence, AIDS, moral decline-- all the fault of people like me, and nothing to do with them. They're just the victims, the poor innocent citizens whose world I'm ruining. I'm the villain. They're frightened of me; I might attack them at any moment. Or their children, or their spouse, or someone else they know. So they're cautious when they see me, wary of the crimes I'm going to commit, of the killing spree I'm about to go on. They don't stop to notice that most such crimes are perpetrated by people who look a lot more like them than like me. When the evening news interviews the killer's neighbors, they rarely say, "He always wore black, listened to strange music, and was really strange." It's always, "He was so nice and quiet. We never suspected he could ever do something like this. He seemed so normal." So, Mr. Flannel-n-jeans, that might not be what I'm supposed to be, nor what I intended to be, but that's what I am to you. I'm more purposeful than you even realize.
-JeanCroix
exactly.. - Ashe
I miss the innocence that I once had before reality raped me.
-Stevie, in reply to 'what do you miss?'-- alt.gothic
I miss being able to dream about what I might do in my life. Now I pretty much know what my fate is.
-Buboe the Rat, in reply to 'what do you miss?'-- alt.gothic
I was on some person's site, and it was nice, simple, yet nice... but she had this "What is goth page" She explained that goth is more a love of things dark, of the night, and a lifestyle which is made up partly of expression of this romanticised world of darkness... then went on to Say that Marilyn Manson is not goth, and din't even consider himself one. One Thing.. I am NOT a "spookykid", but i believe in light of manson's recent press release about his musical position.. {Is adult entertainment killing our children, 15 Dec 99} and in reference to this person's definition of goth that manson is in fact, goth.. ( maybe not as goth as you..*:)*) But, I digress... this is basically a copy-and-paste of the guestbook entry i left her, sort of a mini-manson rant...
love what you had to say about goths.. one point though...marilyn manson does consider himself gothic, or did.... from the release of antichrist superstar, he was wavering but still remained essentially goth. He recently admitted through his website that The whole omega/mechanical animals thing was a big rouse, a set up, a lie, made to perpetrate the commercial industry, and make his name household, and to lure in the so called "spookykids" in mass numbers, so tha his new album due out sometime next millenium, would totally shock and devalue everything they might believe in.... Do not criticise if you're not sure... he has also said that he's going back to his original look, wether it's goth or not is in the eye of the beholder. Just remember something.. since when is goth all clothes? You yourself said that it was a love of the dark, of the beauty in the night. Does nopt mr manson, or whatever, write poetry, and books, and music, and lyrics, and create artworks of every kind? Is this not expressing himself in a creatively dark way? I just think that if manson wasn't famous, he'd be tagging along with you to cemetaries and what not, goth clubs etc... remember manson was made what he is by goths in the first place. Gothicism is the only "sub-culture" that doesn't have it's certain rules and limitations..yes there are stereotypes, but one of the things that attracted me to it was the ability to be able to be yourself and still be proudly goth. Sadly, this too is dying... now don't get me wrong, I have the alt.gothic faq on my site.. but it's merely a vague stereotype of what, and who, we are. We really don't need this "I'm oh-so much gother than you attitude". Save it for the homeboys and jocks...
