Classical Indie Rock Fan Fiction, Fiction

“Away From The Mirror In A Rain Shed (or…“Mushroom Cloud Or Hen?”)


Superstar Poet Mage D.C. Berman (ex-global phenoms Ectoslavia/present conductor of Silver Jewelry Brothers Mentalcase Showband) had once before, after a desperate plea from spazz worrywart singsman Steve Malkmus, in a secret good luck ritual annointed the first acetate of the debut Pavement Long player in a breathy, solemn (yet loving): “O, my child of sound I dub thee both Slanted & Enchanted…”

Now two years on it seems old habits die hard…Malkmus still believes he is thwarted on all sides by ill portents, Texas hex’s quite familiar to David luckily, double strength pox on the whole of Pavement United. Our Superstar Poet is cool as a corpse. Always happy to oblige Pavement comrades with his finishing touch of hex proof Double Magick Religion. This time let’s hope it’s extra magick-y; sophomore slump and all. Let’s listen in:

“Gentlemen?” All Pavements: “Yes, David?!” “Shh! Listen, lads…can you hear it?” “Hear what, David?”

“A golden…horizontal—wait—no! Vertical! Hark! It skews again!” “Bob? The sacred oil please?”

David said this in a quite gentle, languid way; his inspiration a narcotic to him: “O, lil LP the Second. It is often a perilous for the second long playing offspring…O, my tiny toddling, swaddling one…shhh. There, there I believe in you. Now! Believe in yourself! I spy luck on every finger of yr whittle Pavement hands. For you have been heralded by Nature’s original libation (?!?!). It is beautiful, powerful, unpredictable while simultaneously cleansing, refreshing—renewing…O, child be still, prick up thy ears! Here thee proper name…Cooo! Cooo! drip. drop. drag. dripe. IN THE NAME OF JEHOVAH I CHRISTEN THEE CROOKED RAIN! CROOKED RAIN!”

At that precise moment David’s knees buckle; he hits the floor much the way one would imagine a tall, thin man as he fainted from spiritual overexertion. “David? Now, now easy does it. Get up slowly, now. There ya go, boy. Yeahhh, ya fainted guy!” With wide eyes and cracking voice David blubbered “I flubbed the ritual! My low blood sugar has leveled a treacherous hex on lil Crooked Rain! Crooked Rain! O, the shame…” “No, David, no! You did great! Yr magic was so powerful this time around you short-circuited yourself; dropped like a felled white birch!”(?!?!)

Bob cheered David as he patted him gently on thee head. David brightened right up, did a jolly little jig in a circle “Lads?” Pavements All: “David?!” “First round’s on me!” “Let’s fuck shit up! I noticed in the Voice that Tad and Soundgarden are playin downtown tonight….you know what that means? Well…?” All Pavements in unison With Silver Jews All: “Death To Sub Pop!” Now tasked with a morale boosting mission the boys whooped all the way to street level like rabid reb Confederates (I can only imagine the terror they invoked…) Bobby N. with wide, proud grin declared “Lads! To the city bus! I’ll drivvvee! This is now a chartered trip! No stops! Welcome Aboard Nasty Nastonovich’a Deadly Downtown Detour! This bus is now an Expresssss!!!”

“HOOOOOORAYYYYY!!!! FLY, BOB, FLY!!!!” And so with that into the mild twilight NYC night they did flew. Lad toasting lad: “All Pavement! All Joo!”

The End

©2017 teagown

please hear the sound of The Vima Tresna:



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