Today is fartlek run day. Oh joy. They are definitely getting better in that I’m not in pain when I do them anymore, but that’s not to say that they don’t suck either…cuz they do. A lot. I suppose that means I’m doing it right I guess. Anyway, the weather is supposed to turn sour later on so I’m trying to get this done nice and early(ish) today with the ‘13 Above the Night‘ album by My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult.
Even though it’s just another trip up and back along Thunder Bay and MacDonald Rds., it may as well be a pill-crazed romp through L.A.’s dirtiest and lowest whorehouses as this album is, well, just that kind of album.
Released in 1993, this album is reveling in dark sexuality, drug use, and the occult, it conjures up the spirit of the lost of America’s cities remarkably. Celebrating the surface level as it does, it is difficult to listen to this record with anything close to a critical ear. It is a loud, unsubtle album that is nevertheless danceable and seductive. The production team of Buzz McCoy and Groovie Mann pair percolating synth grooves and techno rhythms with buzzing guitars and almost R&B-style female background singers. Heavily-processed lead vocals slither in and out of the tracks, emerging to spit venomous and cryptic lines such as “killed his taste in switchblades” (from ‘Delicate Terror‘).
And how unexpected it is to find a little motivation in the 5th and hardest of the 4 minute intervals in a TKK song: “Why am I doing this? Why do I have to do it? Why can’t I just be an ordinary person?”
It’s like they’re in my brain!
That’s weird, right?
Creepy vocal samples play a prominent role in TKK’s music, in much the same way that they are used by White Zombie. The entire album holds together quite well, with each track having compelling moments. Fellow traveler Lydia Lunch shows up for the swinging ‘Dirty Little Secrets‘, which provides perhaps the greatest view into the TKK world-view, with its seductive vocals that are less the come-on of a woman to her beloved than the desperate plea of a washed-up porn star turning tricks for heroin money.
Just the kind of thing to inspire you through 10.64k worth of hard four minute intervals, right?
I am a glutton for punishment if anything else.
A depressing record, to be sure, but interesting on its own merits. It’s not a bad place to visit, but you sure as hell wouldn’t want to live there.
The run went good and ‘ol Thunder n’ Lightning feel pretty good and I am pleased. My pace seems to be coming back a bit, albeit not without a lot of effort. My willing to suffer a bit is also coming back which for me it key.
I also just made it back just as the wet snow was beginning to fly.
Time for a hot cup of tea, a pear and a nice chicken sammich.