World War III Radio: The Beat From Badsville – Vol. 1/Trash Classics From Lux And Ivy’s Vinyl Mountain (The Cramps)

Let’s just call this a time warp, and why not. The present is dire and the future… well… who knows? This one takes it back a bit and camps it up, but that’s almost the point of the entire Stag-O-Lee catalog. It’s a treasure trove of left-of-center music. I’ve got about a dozen of their platters and there isn’t a stinker among them, provided I guess that you go for the retro-sleaze sounds that informed The Cramps, or songs that may have played in a strip joint on a dock in 1960. It probably says more about me that this stuff is right up my alley.

It’s not getting any less weird out there in the world, so man I’m just really trying to roll with it and not take any of it personally. None of the fussing and fighting is about me. It’s nothing I did right or wrong. It’s just kind of there. I was at a meeting last night and people were talking about fear, which is a common theme, but it was last night’s laser focus. It’s nice to be amongst people who will admit their fear and talk about where it came from, and how we might help each other through and maybe beyond it all. Everyone’s got the fear though and it seems to be worse than ever, at least to my recollection. Maybe I just wasn’t thinking about other people’s fear before, being stuck up my own ass. It’s not just recovery people either. Everybody seems terrified and by some superstition won’t talk about it, lest it all come to life at once.

And it will whether we talk about it or not. All the things you are afraid of are more or less inevitable. It’s just a matter of knowing that it’s not you being singled out for some special and probably unwarranted punishment.

Anyway… rocking and rolling into another day in a life during wartime. I’ve no real clue where it’s all headed. I’m just a passenger. I’m not the ride. Repeat, I am just a passenger. I’m not the ride.

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