MOTOR PSYCHO

MOTOR PSYCHO

Normally I love summer best of all. The toxic shit just floating in midair waiting to stick to your face, the laminated feeling you get after three and a half minutes of not showering, hundred and thirty in the shade arms-away-from-your-body hot, that sweet bouquet of piss, vomit and car exhaust that fills the air like a prom night debutante's slovenly didn't-sleep-at-home-last-night great-aunt just got in the elevator with you, man, Johnny Mathis got it backwards. The middle of summer is the most wonderful time of the year.

That said, the summer of aught four has had about as much creativity as your average episode of Hope & Faith. I don't know if it was the big push to get some songs done that wore me down, or that the pit of loneliness that runs so deep it connects me directly with the twenty-seventh circle of hell is giving me a case of heartburn no Tums could fix, or what, but I've never been so glad to get on with things in October like I am right this moment.

So to that end, here's Motor Psycho, a song about -- well, it's basically Born To Run as sung by Travis Bickle. It's just a little something to warm your cockles on these cool autumn nights.


Rock over London, rock down Chicago.
Tums. For the tummy.