The Wall: the liveblog, part II

we're back. atherton flux and Mr. phi came by during the break. they haven't left yet, so we're four now. which is fitting because we're about to listen to side four of the Wall. coincidence? i don't think so.

we open with harmonies courtesy of the new west coast boys americana glee club choir. but proto-metal promises nothing very cheerful.

what kind of world is this, where you can't even go see your favorite fascist stadium cock-rock riot-inciting band play without getting fucking harassed? this sucks. but the one with the spots deserved it. that guy was a douche.

shadow the cat is here, curled up with L on the windowseat. Mr. phi is talking very fast. atherton flux is pacing. i would like the record to hurry up and end so i can ask them to leave.

the strict militarism of run like hell is a breath of fresh air after all this limpwristed wussy music.

more harmonies, more square beats. these worms sound suspiciously like those pigs from animals. roger crescendos a shrill political rant.

side four is like a long duet between roger's voice and nick's kick drum, accompanied by dave and sometimes rick.

side one and two belong together in my mind, as though cut from the same cloth. side three is of a different cloth, and side four from a third. side four has the least music to my ear, though watching roger stretch is a ton of fun.

the emptiness of the recent tough-yet-boring songs is put on trial. the orchestra returns for the theatrics I recall being promised earlier.

the trial begins. men with canes and top hats dance; dave rolls his eyes.

the record climaxes with the judge's decision: Satan is his father, not guy! Tear down the wall!

omg, they're gonna do it. they're gonna tear down the - o shit. they blew it up.

L is imagining herr director in conversation with the demolition crew foreman. "yeah, that was okay, it was okay. it was sort of a 'blowing up' though. Not so much of a tearing down thing, which is what i think we're really going for here." and eventually "that's okay. no it's alright, we'll just... i'll just see if i can't get the chorus back in here to sing blow. up. the wall. aw, bloody hell."

but one way or another it's down, no doubt about that. woo hoo! the fucking wall is down! high five. yeah, wow. this is so cool. it feels like forever. omg. fucking awesome...

but wait. this is good right? we did want the wall to come down, didn't we? because, then why did that judge sound so angry earlier when he was talking about it? i don't really get that. maybe he's just an asshole.

a lemon squeezebox - the same one that begins side one - is here along with that woodwind instrument at the end of side four. isn't this where we came in?

the wall is down. we're free to go, at least for now. free to rebuild, and hopefully something that's not another wall. we need to be careful about that. i don't want to go through all this again, the strain on my system is too great, and i'm sure you don't too. right?

we've listened to four walls of madness, and we're done. the completion of a cycle puts one at peace.

so ends the transmission. Mr. phi has raided the fridge. atherton flux is sitting, staring. the cat left the room about twenty minutes ago (i could explain why, but it's complicated). L is moving forward to address our growing hunger. I'm writing to you.

join us next time when we liveblog our exclusive hang with king Friday. long live the king!