Cuckoo oo oo oo The Marinello Incident

 

Bands rise from ashes. Bands burn down to ashes. Sometimes they burn with just one trace. I witnessed this song on one of my lonely walks across the internet. I ached for new. I longed for good. I walked and I walked. I clicked and I clicked. I found this video by the Marinello Incident and needed to find more. But no more was there to be found. All traces lost. Lost. Sadness and vice. Vice and regret. Regret and sadness

But the one song remains. From it we can be the Jurassic Park scientists and we can conjure into existence a magical complete reconstruction. The singer, prowling, empty and agonised. The guitar clad in paisley, flail after flail. A belligerent insect of a man, pale and angular twisted around a bass.

Was the gig empty? Was the room full of people that were rewarded with this originality, strength and vitality.? Some music crackles. This flexes and crackles. Pops.