1001 Albums Summary

Returning from an interstellar trip regrouping with the blues. Starting to embrace a bit of soul. Music for the proletariat. The album scratches an itch, but the itchiness is not dissipated, something later albums would more sufficiently resolve. I'm sat waiting for the world, and this album is keeping me company.

Everyone needs to be experienced. Though, this is a start. Everything needs to set off from somewhere. Lift with the wind, spread. And leave with the question: Are You Experienced?

finna dropout

Leaving. I'll be here, passing by, carrying a few buckets of tears. Trading misery. And seeing no one anywhere. I'll walk through mud and rain, whistling some tunes on the avenues. Aiming for a shelter from the storm.

What is to be done, what has been created. What should have been done. And it's true man, first human.

Believe in beauty, for one day, as waves, love will crash overhead. Aeroplanes will circle over. There's more than this. Listen to the roars, and cry. Dive into the harbor. Languor is beautiful, but the waves are beauty.

And feel more. Primally screaming words not heard hitherto. Unleashing a box, sockin' ya, knockin' ya. Don't ya cry, but feel more.

Who says a funk band can't play rock? Funkadelic for president!!

Give it half a chance. Look on the bright side, through the barrel of a gun. Swing on the floor and run after the sun.

Soft hammers hit hard nails. Let the drummer get some, and the bass rolll. And they're not from Ohio, hm.

Frankie's got his gun. The man is breathing on top. Where you run to is where you start. The future flies from the back.

Every day it brings sunshine, brightening a prison stay. Pure love. A walk, a lovely talk. A hug from those you love. The hug is warm, but it's overcast. The world is still dark, and there's nothing to do. Still, there is loving everywhere. It's simple, but that's the truth. I love the truth.

Hell is wrong with ya?

Im shy, and I love. But it's far away. And still we have a long way to go.

Maybe... definitely. What I heard is not what I hear. It keeps me up at night.

Can never take the place of the Man. There is troubles big and small. I guess it's just a sign o' the times.

Pure swing, wish I could sing.

As we sit, stars dance above. They have seen it before. We have seen them before. And yet, we sit and watch each other. Smiling tenderly.

Crawling to 'neath a tree. But it is all over now. I'm not someone who means much to them, all they see is confusion in my eyes. What more could you do?

Mel-uh-dee: a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, a bike, the spirit of ecstasy. Mel. Uh. Dee. The night is plain, easily hiding those wishing to be hidden. They travel far, thundering down quiet roads. I feel I know her, but sometimes my arms bend back. Pure colours, melting clouds. It has stopped raining.

For rhyme and for rapture, whatever. After laughter, comes tears.

Out of control. It's wild, a honey child. Dropping love on top of all. Not new, not old. But enough.

give me love, give me faith. nobody said it was extraordinary.