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Hyacinth House March 26, 2009

Posted by The Typist in 504, cryptical envelopment, Dancing Bear, music, New Orleans, NOLA, Toulouse Street.

When Jim Morrison can best sum up your emotional state (as Oddly he often can here on Toulouse Street), it’s time to make a drink. This is one of the most interesting songs off of the last album before Morrison departed for Paris and dark immortality. Was Morrison’s departure from Los Angeles for Paris an escape from or an entering into? We will never know. In the end he broke on through not into the world of poetry and theater and film he sought but into myth.

As you sit in your cubicle at work or at the table going over your taxes and bills, ask yourself: What are they doing in the Hyacinth House?

Note: this is sadly a cover by somebody called Supergrass. (See note below)

Enjoy this while the DRM Nazis hunt me down. There was no version of this song up so I made one from my CD and You Tube quickly told me by email I have posted content owned by WMG (which I think means Wildly Mutated Genitals) and blocked the audio. I ran it through a couple of converters and lopped off a few seconds at the end and tried again, but there is some embedded signature in the song, so no go. The pulsating purple penis police may come crashing through the wall any moment now.



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