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Alex McQuate May 2017
Am I going insane?
Or do I hear a track playing in the background of Led Zeppelin's "Babe I'm going to leave you"?
Around the 1:42 mark,
Hiding right below the guitar,
Playing whisper soft,
Plant is crying out something,
Something too soft to decipher.

I hope I'm not hearing things
I first noticed it after buying new earphones for a run and it drove me nuts during my route
Alex McQuate May 2017
They say that the stairway to heaven is long and precarious, and some say it never ends.

I can't remember who first told me that,
And I can't find any reference to it,
Believe me I've looked.

Robert plan is informing me of the woman now,
After being led in by the acoustic guitar and flutes,
Foolish woman,
Learning at the very last minute,
That her life was a waste and her hoards of wealth mean nothing to her now.

Plant says that this song can have as many meanings as stars in the sky.

Nice thoughts to start a run to.
Song referenced:
Stairway to Heaven- Led Zeppelin
Alex McQuate May 2017
The same four notes haunt me,
Like the ghosts lost to the sea,
             Da
                                        Dah
                  ­  Doo
***            

Floyd flexing their synth might,
Their system tried and true,
Music to get lost in space to,
At least until I hit the Darkside of the Moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond- Pink Floyd
Alex McQuate May 2017
I sit here.
Contemplating it all,
Of the difficulties and obstacles that one must encounter,
When in the pursuit of making a concept album.

So many parts must go into it,
To tell a proper narrative,
With lyrics written well enough to not just sound like spoken word.
Rush is a master of this technique,
To be able to make such an easily understood story,
All one has to listen to do is listen to the lyrics,
Acknowledge the musical cues,
Maybe is given a few lines of backstory,
And is at least a little bit smart,
They are told quite a touching tale.

Pink Floyd does it well,
Telling tales of oppression,
Of goodbyes to friends,

The Who do it multiple times,
From a young London man,
Besiged by nostalgia for the bad old days,
To the telling of a deaf, dumb, and blind kid,
And his struggles as he goes through life.

Green Day seems to have done it most recently (in the proper format) with some success,
The struggles of their "Jesus of Suburbia",
A story of anger, love, rejection, and suicide.

It seems like most time the protagonist of concept albums always get the end of the stick,
Why is that?
That the underdog can't ever seem to catch a break?
Death is his end destination,
No ifs, ands, or buts about it,
That or they are placed in a situation where death is preferable,
Because all hope is lost?
Or if they're caught on the cusp of the unknown,
Which can be quite as bad.

So here's to you, you lunatics,
You rebels of causes untold,
You'll live in these story's forever,
Your vinyl Valhalla victorious and verbose.
In case you haven't listened to one before, a concept album tells a story that traditionally spaced over the length of the album, or at least a couple songs.
Wrote whilst listening to 2112.
Albums referenced are as follows:
2112-Rush
The Wall-Pink Floyd
Wish You Were Here- Pink Floyd
Quadrophenia- The Who
Tommy-The Who
American Idiot- Green Day
Alex McQuate May 2017
Anthony Kedis is rolling like a runaway train,
His voice carrying too much momentum to be stopped,
He just keeps rolling down a track of guitar solos.
It's unusually hot here,
As I wipe sweat from my brow.

My bottle of water is sweating on the table,
My eyes are stinging from the heat and perspiration from my forehead.

Flea is laying it out hard,
His slaps on the bass with specific design.
It's almost time to go to bed,
Got to get back into a rhythm.
Imagine having the song "Dark Necessities" by RHCP playing like an anthem in your head as you drive out at night.
Alex McQuate May 2017
I envy the men who can smoke yet run like an Olympic athlete,
I really do.
The best I can do is operate a machine gun or a rocket launcher,
With a fat *** of dip in my jaw.
Alex McQuate May 2017
I tap my index finger on the top of my cigarette,
The pier of ash that was building topples off the end.
The can is at my lips,
A pleasant burn on the throat when swallowed,
Imperial stout,
The warming burn reminds me of good bourbon.
The ***** beer agreeing with my palate.
A hard day started early,
My early ending is it's own reward,
To relax,
Kick back
And let the tunes carry me away.
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