Tag: Nightmares On Wax

Mind your fingers when Surprise Chef is in the kitchen, because the knives are sharp and the burners are hot.

Every early June, I’ll hit the first day of the year where it’s still light when I get to the radio station. It’s a few weeks before summer officially begins, but it always feel like the starting gun for the season. Tonight! We start out with Mhaol, who would just as easily cut you as they would kiss you, and proceed from there.

The rich wood floorboards were squeaking under the strain of the game. They had removed their shoes, sketched out the board using a special beeswax that would not damage the finish, and were hopping as lightly as they could, for they respected the solemnity of their location. Nonetheless, the portraits lining the Hall of Admirals in the Museo Maritimo Nacional felt they finally had something to frown about, their serious Chilean brows furrowed in naval concern as they observed the farrier and the anthropologist enjoying their tournament.

Sometimes rock and roll seems to get stuck in a rut, but The New Madness bring fresh life to a sound that was old before they were born.

“Batu means ‘rock’ in Malay” said the photographer, for the third time in a week. The sous-chef ignored the comment, also for the third time, and tried squinting in the darkness at the cribbage board. They had been wise enough to purchase a glow-in-the-dark deck after all these midnight assignments, but had yet to extend their ingenuity to the board. Tapping a foot in irritation, they knocked over the thermos full of hot cocoa set on the steps, and it would have rolled down several long flights of guano-covered stairs had it not been stopped by the tandem bike’s wheel leaning against the statue’s pedestal. Above them, Lord Murugan stared stonily into the dark.

There’s no detail too small or scar too deep for Eels to pick up and examine in a wry musical light.

The first wave of UK punk crested and shrank back, but the Mekons are still thrashing and foaming.

The first mate adjusted the sails, letting out some wind to keep both skids on the sand. The sun shone down like a hole punched in a blast furnace someone painted blue, the radio broadcasting its gypsy salsa above the hiss of the sandmaran's travel. Leaning on the tiller, the captain let out a yell of warning as they crested a dune, gaining air for a brief moment. They still didn’t have a plan for replacing the statue, but they had a thousand miles of desert to work something out.

I have never been so uncomfortable, thought the hacker as they strained to match the wires in the fusebox, their head inches from one of the combine’s many potentially lethal harvesting blades. The lookout’s shadow was barely visible against the hangar door. Straining to clip the blue wire into the scanner, they heard a soft call and nearly lost an ear before remembering their uncomfortable position.

If you gotta have some beats, you gotta have some Nightmares on Wax. Moody interludes for slick rainy asphalt.