This Time Tomorrow (Shut Up and Eat Your Kinks!)

This time tomorrow, maybe I'll actually post something . . .

Some nice images in the video.



The Kinks. From Lola Versus Powerman and the Money-Go-Round, Part One (1970)

"This Time Tomorrow"

This time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere
Sailing across an empty sea

This time tomorrow what will we know
Will we still be here
Watching an in-flight movie show

I'll leave the sun behind me
And I'll watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
Seven miles below me
I can see the world and it ain't so big at all

This time tomorrow what will we see
Fields full of houses
Endless rows of crowded streets

I don't where I'm going
I don't want to see
I feel the world below me looking up at me

Leave the sun behind me,
And I'll watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
And I'm in perpetual motion
And the world below doesn't matter much to me

Well, this time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere
Sailing across an empty sea

This time tomorrow where will we be
This time tomorrow what will we see
This time tomorrow...

Sunny Afternoon (Shut Up and Eat Your Kinks!)

The Kinks: Sunny Afternoon
(from Face to Face, 1966)

Despite the over-the-top irony of the Kinks playing "Sunny Afternoon" in a snowy field, I'm all about spring right now. The weather here has been spectacular lately. After months of dreary greys and browns, we suddenly have GREEN. Buds opening on the trees. Flowers erupting. Fragrances of honeysuckle and dogwood. An eruption of life-energy.

Campus is full of students throwing frisbees, playing guitars, and sunnying themselves on the lawn. I'm jealous, having to work in a bloody office. Having to work at all, for that matter. My youth calls to me from far, far away . . . .

So I made a new playlist. Sunny Afternoon: A Rock and Roll Soundtrack. The tunes one might have played while hanging out in the park on a beautiful, lazy day in the mid-to-late 1970s.

So, turn up the volume. Open a cold one. Toss me that frisbee. And smoke 'em if you've got 'em.

Shut Up and Eat Your Kinks

The Kinks: "20th Century Man"
from Muswell Hillbillies (1971)

This is the age of machinery,
A mechanical nightmare,
The wonderful world of technology,
Napalm, hydrogen bombs, biological warfare.

This is the twentieth century,
But too much aggravation.
It's the age of insanity.
What has become of the green, pleasant fields of Jerusalem?

Ain't got no ambition, I'm just disillusioned.
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't wanna be here.

My mama said she can't understand me,
She can't see my motivation.
Just give me some security,
I'm a paranoid, schizoid product of the twentieth century.

You keep all your smart modern writers,
Give me William Shakespeare.
You keep all your smart modern painters,
I'll take Rembrandt, Titian, Da Vinci and Gainsborough.

Girl, we gotta get out of here,
We gotta find a solution.
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't want to die here.

Girl, we gotta get out of here,
We gotta find a solution.
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't want to be here.

I was born in a welfare state,
Ruled by bureaucracy,
Controlled by civil servants
And people dressed in grey.
Got no privacy, got no liberty,
Cause the twentieth century people
Took it all away from me.

Don't wanna get myself shot down
By some trigger happy policeman.
Gotta keep a hold of my sanity
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't wanna die here.

My mama says she can't understand me,
She can't see my motivation.
Ain't got no security,
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't wanna die here.

This is the twentieth century,
But too much aggravation.
This is the edge of insanity,
I'm a twentieth century man, but I don't wanna be here.