Gruppo Sportivo, punk as fuck in spirit, but always just a bit too strange, too Dutch for the real punks. Not just one hit wonders abroad, but rather know for just that one cult underground “hit”, still plugging away, still making albums and touring long after you’d written them off. It would never be as good or fun as in those late seventies though.
video
and stains that are suspect cover your clothes
I was reminded of this the other day, one of those late nineties hits you see on MTV every day for a month or so and then never again, making you wonder whether you dreamed the whole thing up. That’s Tony “the way to Amarillo” Christie doing the vocals, Jarvis Cocker who wrote it and All Seeing I what did the music.
Otis Redding and friends
And sometimes you just want some good old Stax soul to listen to.
We will make it to the ships
Those are my people and this is the attitude C.S. Lewis warned against in That Hideous Strength because his grubby little provincial mind could not understand it, other than as blasphemy born out of hubris. It’s the attitude that led generations of fans to set up slan shacks or Ozark breeding camps, led us to try out every kook idea that offered a shortcut to the stars, from the Dean drive to Velikovskism, but it’s also what drives hundreds upon thousands of scientists and engineers to dedicate their lives to building, guiding and following unmanned probes to the far reaches of our Solar System, on missions that seem to mock our own aspirations to ever get there ourselves as they reveal how hostile even our benign corner of the universe is and how big.