Grinderman- No Pussy Blues
i couldn’t decide what to post today. i wavered between something up-tempo and something more soothing. i was on the verge of posting something else when i remembered something my grandmother once told me: kick ass when you can.* this song kicks ass. if you’re birthday party or bad seeds fans, then you probably recognize the guys from the photo. well, grinderman is what you get when you take all the lust and verve from the bad seeds and infuse it with a shot of jack and red bull.
i grabbed the eponymous grinderman album because i was comfortable with nick cave’s work with the bad seeds. i’m bound to post another of his songs at some point. when i played it through, i was a bit underwhelmed. it wasn’t until i saw a televised performance of ‘honey bee’ that i was sold (first, i had to get over nick’s completely ridiculous mustache). it reminded me of the old birthday party footage i’d seen, actually, except that nick is a lot less gross these days. these guys were all over the place. it seemed the studio might explode.
i was tempted to post ‘honey bee’ because it was the song it’s the song that got me hooked. i decided to post this song instead because of it’s rougher edge. i like it when a song feels as though it’s about to fly apart. it adds a bit of danger to what’s alread a delightfully raunchy, testosterone driven song. i hope you enjoy it as i do.
My face is finished, my body’s gone. And I can’t help but think
standin’ up here in all this applause
and gazin’ down at all the young and the beautiful.
With their questioning eyes.
That I must above all things love myself.
I saw a girl in the crowd,
I ran over I shouted out,
I asked if I could take her out,
But she said that she didn’t want to.
I changed the sheets on my bed,
I combed the hairs across my head,
I sucked in my gut and still she said
That she just didn’t want to.
I read her Eliot, read her Yeats,
I tried my best to stay up late,
I fixed the hinges on her gate,
But still she just never wanted to.
I bought her a dozen snow-white doves,
I did her dishes in rubber gloves,
I called her Honeybee, I called her Love,
But she just still didn’t want to. She just never wants to.
I sent her every type of flower,
I played her guitar by the hour,
I patted her revolting little chihuahua,
But still she just didn’t want to.
I wrote a song with a hundred lines,
I picked a bunch of dandelions,
I walked her through the trembling pines,
But she just even then didn’t want to. She just never wants to.
I thought I’d try another tack,
I drank a litre of cognac,
I threw her down upon her back,
But she just lay up and said that she just didn’t want to.
I thought I’d have another go,
I called her my little ho,
I felt like Marcel Marceau
must feel when she said that she just never wanted to. She just didn’t want to.
I got the no pussy blues.
-the skinny miracle
*my grandmother never actually said that out loud- i saw it in her eyes
