Jimmy Page & The Black Crowes Roseland Ballroom, New York City, NY 1999-10-14
aud (Transferred by: Steve "ballsdeep" Hagar > Mastered by: Dennis Orr) mp3 @ 320 [268 mb] sq: A
01 Celebration Day 02 Custard Pie 03 Sick Again 04 No Speak No Slave 05 What Is And What Should Never Be 06 Wiser Time 07 Mellow Down Easy 08 Ten Years Gone 09 In My Time Of Dying 10 Your Time Is Gonna Come 11 Remedy 12 Lemon Song 13 Sloppy Drunk 14 Shapes Of Things 15 Nobody's Fault But Mine 16 Heartbreaker 17 Encore Break - Encore - 18 Hey Hey What Can I Do 19 Oh Well 20 Band Intros 21 Out On The Tiles > 22 Whole Lotta Love
Kostas does his usual standard of profile on someone who I never really got! But I feel like I owe it to him over at Urbanaspirines to share links to this one . . .the story is of course at once fascinating and tragic Nomi being one of the earliest art/music stars to die from AIDS related illness - A Kostas Special
Klaus Sperber (January 24, 1944 – August 6, 1983), known professionally as Klaus Nomi, was a German countertenor and baritone noted for his wide vocal range and an unusual, otherworldly stage persona. He was born Klaus Sperber in Immenstadt, Bavaria, Germany in 1944, but moved to New York in the mid-'70s, working as a pastry chef and nightclub singer. One of his sets impressed David Bowie, and Nomi soon found himself backing the star on Saturday Night Live. He was ne of the first prominent persons to die of AIDS, Klaus Nomi mixed rock and disco stylings with a classical and operatic repertoire.
Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle. Upon what man it fall In spring, day-wishing flowers appearing, Avalanche sliding, white snow from rock-face, That he should leave his house, No cloud-soft hand can hold him, restraint by women; But ever that man goes Through place-keepers, through forest trees, A stranger to strangers over undried sea, Houses for fishes, suffocating water, Or lonely on fell as chat, By pot-holed becks A bird stone-haunting, an unquiet bird.
There head falls forward, fatigued at evening, And dreams of home, Waving from window, spread of welcome, Kissing of wife under single sheet; But waking sees Bird-flocks nameless to him, through doorway voices Of new men making another love.
Save him from hostile capture, From sudden tiger’s leap at corner; Protect his house, His anxious house where days are counted From thunderbolt protect, From gradual ruin spreading like a stain; Converting number from vague to certain, Bring joy, bring day of his returning, Lucky with day approaching, with leaning dawn.
about this poem
“II” [Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.]
was published in Poems (Faber and Faber, 1930).
About Auden’s early work, poet Meghan O’Rourke
writes in her article “The Many Faces of W. H. Auden,”
“The early Auden was, as [Randall] Jarrellput it,
‘oracular (obscure, original), bad at organization,
neglectful of logic, full of astonishing or magical
language, intent on his own world and his own forms.’
This is some of the work I love most, with its curious
Icelandic preoccupations (Auden had a romance with
the idea of Northernness); the frequency of phrases
like ‘spring’s green/ preliminary shiver’ and ‘love’s worn
circuit re-begun’; and its Anglo-Saxon tones
(inspired by Gerard Manley Hopkins),
rung in lines like
‘Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.’”
Wystan Hugh Auden was born in York, England, on
February 21, 1907. Admired for his technical virtuosity,
Auden is the author of numerous collections of poetry,
including The Shield of Achilles (Faber and Faber, 1955),
winner of the 1956 National Book Award, and The Age of
Anxiety: A Baroque Eclogue (Random House, 1947),
winner of the 1948 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.
Auden served as a Chancellor of the Academy of American
Poets from 1954 to 1973. He died in Vienna on
September 29, 1973.
“II” [Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.]
was published in Poems (Faber and Faber, 1930).
About Auden’s early work, poet Meghan O’Rourke
writes in her article “The Many Faces of W. H. Auden,”
“The early Auden was, as (Randall] Jarrell put it,
‘oracular (obscure, original), bad at organisation,
neglectful of logic, full of astonishing or magical
language, intent on his own world and his own forms.’
This is some of the work I love most, with its curious
Icelandic preoccupations (Auden had a romance with
the idea of Northernness); the frequency of phrases
like ‘spring’s green/ preliminary shiver’ and ‘love’s worn
