The Greatest THS Song Craig Finn Never Wrote

[jtd7]

Blue songs are like tattoos
You know I've been to sea before
Crown and anchor me
Or let me sail away
Hey Blue, here is a song for you
Ink on a pin
Underneath the skin
An empty space to fill in
Well there're so many sinking now
You've got to keep thinking
You can make it thru these waves
Acid, booze, and ass
Needles, guns, and grass
Lots of laughs lots of laughs
Everybody's saying that hell's the hippest way to go
Well I don't think so
But I'm gonna take a look around it though
Blue I love you

Blue here is a shell for you
Inside you'll hear a sigh
A foggy lullaby
There is your song from me

[mcstevepants]

Disagree

[jwd]

Agree

[bigrob]

Disagree

[jwd]

You don't dig Joni?

[bigrob]

Its not that, I'm just disagreeing with it being what the thread title implies. I guess my "this belongs elsewhere" post was a bit dickish.

[hollywasahoodrat]

what is that from?

[jtd7]

That's "Blue" by Joni Mitchell (recorded 1971). And I was being silly so, boys, please don't get violent. When i listened to it yesterday i was struck by how many of the images have parallels in THS songs:

songs are like tattoos

Ink on a pin underneath the skin

Acid, booze, and ass
Needles, guns, and grass
Lots of laughs lots of laughs

-- sounds like a Killer Party, dunnit? And, of course, most Sapphires are Blue. But Joni Mitchell and Craig Finn both have such distinctive vocal styles that imagining one of them singing the other's songs just makes me laugh.

[Deleted]

i read a review of Decemberists gig that called them an 'alternate universe Hold Steady', which i thought did a disserve to both bands. though they're both really literary and good

every time i see 40 Year Old Virgin i get dissappointed that the 'hook up with hoodrats' line isn't a THS song. it soundsl ike it should be

and Joni's song is great but yeah except for that bit you quoted it's not really too THS. i reckon the best THS soundalike is Nick Cave's 'Dig Lazarus Dig'. mostly for all the rhymes with city names in them and the general ironic/Biblical tone ('course, Nick's been doing that for 30 years now)

Larry made his nest up in the autumn branches
Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air
He collected up some baby blasted mothers who took their chances
And for a while they lived quite happily up there

He came from New York city man, but he couldn't take the pace
He thought it was like dog eat dog world
Then he went to San Francisco, spent a year in out space
With a sweet little San Fransiscan girl.

I can hear my mother wailing and a whole lot of scraping of chairs

I don't know what it is but there's definately something going on upstairs

[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.]

(I want you to dig)

(I want you to dig)Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies
Like miss Boo and miss Quick
He stockpiled weapons and took potshots in the air
He feasted on their lovely bodies like a lunatic
And wrapped himself up in their soft yellow hair

I can hear chants and incantations and some guy is mentioning me in his prayers.
Well, I don't know what it is but there's definitely something going on upstairs

[Dig yourself]
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.]

(I want you to dig)

(I want you to dig)Well New York City man, San Francisco, LA, I don't know
But Larry grew increasingly neurotic and obscene
I mean he, he never asked to be raised up from the tomb
I mean no one ever actually asked him to forsake his dreams
He ended up like so many of them do, back on the streets of New York City
In a soup queue, a dopefiend, a slave, then prison, then the madhouse, then the grave
Ah poor Larry

But what do we really know'f the dead And who actually cares?

Well, I don't know what it is but there's definitely something going on upstairs.[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Back in that hole.]

[bigrob]

Agree.

[giantladder]

I always thought this one would work for THS:

Drunken Angel by Lucinda Williams

Sun came up it was another day
And the sun went down you were blown away
Why'd you let go of your guitar
Why'd you ever let it go that far
Drunken Angel
Could've held on to that long smooth neck
Let your hand remember every fret
Fingers touching each shiny string
But you let go of everything
Drunken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Followers would cling to you
Hang around just to meet you
Some threw roses at your feet
And watch you pass out on the street
Drunken Angel
Feed you and pay off all your debts
Kiss your brow taste your sweat
Write about your soul your guts
Criticize you and wish you luck
Drunken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Some kind of savior singing the blues
A derelict in your duct tape shoes
Your orphan clothes and your long dark hair
Looking like you didn't care
Druken Angel
Blood spilled out from the hole in your heart
Over the strings of your guitar
The worn down places in the wood
That once made you feel so good
Druken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Sun came up it was another day
And the sun went down you were blown away
Why'd you let go of your guitar
Why'd you ever let it go that far
Drunken Angel Drunken Angel

[hoodrat]

i <3 lucinda williams. <3 that song. <3 that whole album.

[nosferatu]

Valentino's got a booky shop and what he takes
He gives for what he's got
And what he's got he says he has not
Stole from anyone

It's not that he don't tell the truth
Or even that he misspent his youth
It's just he holds the proof
But you know something's wrong

Valentino got nowhere to go
On his own like Romeo
Blow by blow he watches his money go
Now he's oh so low
It's not that he misses her
Or even that he can't resist her
It's just that kissing her
He feels so strong

Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi

Valentino's in a cold sweat, placed all his money on that last bet
Against all the odds he smokes another cigarette
Says it helps him to forget
He's a nervous wreck

It's not that he misses much
Or even that he lost his lucky touch
It's just that he gambles so much
And you know that it's wrong

Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi
Waiting just to catch your eye
Waiting for an alibi

Waiting for an alibi
Try to say I told you I told you

Waiting for an alibi
Waiting just to get you
Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi
Just to say I told you
Waiting for an alibi
Waiting for an alibi

Oh my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

[roboreckles]

Nibblin on sponge cake
Watchin the sun bake
All of those tourists covered with oil
Strummin my six-string
On my front porch swing
Smell those shrimp they're beginnin to boil

Chorus:
Wastin away again in margaritaville
Searching for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there's a woman to blame
But I know it's nobodys fault

I don't know the reason
I stayed here all season
Nothin to show but this brand new tattoo
But it's a real beauty
A mexican cutie
How it got here I haven't a clue

Chorus:
Wastin away again in margaritaville
Searchin for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there's a woman to blame
Now I think
Hell, it could be my fault

I blew out my flip-flop
Stepped on a pop-top
Cut my heel had to cruise on back home
But there's booze in the blender
And soon it will render
That frozen concoction that helps me hang on

Wastin away again in margaritaville
Searching for my lost shaker of salt
Some people claim that there's a woman to blame
But I know it's my own damn fault
Yes and some people claim that there's a woman to blame
And I know it's my own damn fault

[theriver]

Mar 31, 2010 8:36:46 GMT -5 somuchjoy said:

The ragamuffin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway
He walks through town all alone--"He must be from the fort," he hears the high school girls say
His countryside's burnin' with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide
The hit-and-run plead sanctuary, 'neath a holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
Nuns run bald through Vatican halls, pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
Sticker smiles sweet as Gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
And I said, "Hey, gunner man, that's qucksand, that's quicksand, that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war, or did you lose them in the flood?"

That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
He rides 'er low on the hip, on the side he's got "Bound for Glory" in red, white and blue flash paint
He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy the Saint
Well, that blaze-and-noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point
And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell, that is, nothin' left that you could sell
Just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell
And I said, "Hey kid, you think that's oil? Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"
I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm, or was he just lost in the flood?

Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air
Some storefront incarnation of Maria, she's puttin' on me the stare
And Bronx's best apostle stands with his hand on his own hardware
Everything stops, you hear five quick shots, the cops come up for air
And now the whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
And that cat from the Bronx starts lettin' loose, but he gets blown right off his feet
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away
He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away
And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud"
I wonder what the dude was sayin', or was he just lost in the flood?
Hey man, did you see that, those poor cats are sure messed up
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood?

I was gonna post Incident on 57th Street, but Lost in the Flood makes much more sense.

[bigrob]

C'était en quatre-vingt trois après l'show de Cinderella
on s'roulait un quatre papiers dans l'Duster à Mario Dubé
Quand soudain est apparue au beau milieu de la fumée
Une fille aux lèvres charnues qui cherchait d' quoi rouler
"C'est à qui le beau bébé?" Lui d'manda subtilement Dubé
On l'a faite monter dans 'machine et on est partis dret su'a pine
Sur la 40 vers Trois-Rivières on a roulé sur un nowhere
Avec la cassette de Ozzy qui jouait dans l'tapis
Pendant qu'Mario m'faisait l'signe du devil, elle a' m'spotait en lichant son Revel
Ce fut le coup d'foudre et on s'est embrassé sur le hood!

Mais esti que t'étais belle avec tes Adidas Gazelle
Tes cheveux longs avec des tresses qui pendaient jusqu'aux fesses
On s'est aimé l'temps d'un été en écoutant du Foreigner
Dans mon appart d'la rue Broadway, j'te jure que tu m'as brisé le coeur!

On s'est donné des gros french-kiss tout l'été sur le sofa
En s'louant des films de Chuck Norris Sur mon vidéo Beta
On haïssait Depeche Mode et la musique de tapettes
On fumait des Export'A vertes en écoutant Voïvod
Pendant les vacances d'la construction je l'ai amenée camper sur la plage
Ecouter l'chant des ouaouarons et s'faire griller les tatouages
Avec ses shorts en jeans stretchés elle avait la strap dans 'poulie
Moi j'me promenais à ses côtés, l'crucifix dans l'shaggy
Le matin elle allumait tout l'camping quand a' sortait d'la roulotte en G-string
Et le lac Taureau m'apparaissait soudainement si beau!

Mais esti que t'étais belle avec tes Adidas Gazelle
Tes cheveux longs avec des tresses qui pendaient jusqu'aux fesses
On s'est aimé l'temps d'un été en écoutant du Foreigner
Dans mon appart d'la rue Broadway, j'te jure que tu m'as brisé le coeur!

Mais un soir au ciné-parc je pense que c'était pendant E.T.
A'm'a fait prendre toute une débarque quand a m'a dit qu'c'était fini
Elle était enceinte d'un moron, un gars avec une coupe champignon
Qui jouait d'la guitare-piano dans un groupe de techno
Le lendemain j'ai viré une brosse d'ins bleachers au Stade Olympique
Pendant le Super Motocross avec mes chums de "bécyque"
Quand chu r'venu à maison je l'savais ben qu'c'était over
Surtout qu'j'ai r'trouvé dans l'salon son long jeu d'Foreigner
Je l'ai r'vue une fois c'tait en quatre-vingt sept elle avait la coupe d'la chanteuse de
Roxette L'était rendue ben swell a'portait un genre de suit pastel

Mais esti que t'étais belle avec tes Adidas Gazelle
Tes cheveux longs avec des tresses Qui pendaient jusqu'aux fesses
On s'est aimé l'temps d'un été en écoutant du Foreigner
Dans mon appart d'la rue Broadway, j'te jure que tu m'as brisé le coeur!

Cyndi tu m'as fait maaal Heavy metal!

[Deleted]

i'm still convinced The Living End ripped off/borrowed/politely asked for 'White Noise'...

and this is not really a THS song, but sums things up pretty well:

The drunk kids, the catholics
They’re all about the same
They’re waiting for something
Hoping to be saved
Well I have been happy the past couple days
Just thinking of the women who’ve taken your place
And every night I think I certaintly won't ever sleep sober or alone
And then suddenly it occurs to me
I've slept alone before you
And so I pour myself the stiffest drink my stomach can stand
And convince myself to lay back down again
I’m gonna lay back down, I’m gonna lay back down again
The drunk kids, the catholics
They're all about the same
They’re waiting for something
Hoping to be saved
The drunk kids, the catholics
They're all about the same
They’re waiting for something
Hoping to be saved
The drunk kids, the catholics
They're all about the same
They’re waiting for something
Hoping to be saved
They crawl from the oceans
To paint in the caves
But I’m working all weekend
I need to get paid
They crawl from the oceans
To paint in the caves
But I’m working all weekend
I need to get paid
They crawl from the oceans
To paint in the caves
But I’m working all weekend
I need to get paid
They crawl from the oceans
To paint in the caves
But I’m working all weekend
I need to get paid