From: owner-fegmaniax-digest@ecto.org To: fegmaniax-digest@ecto.org Reply-To: fegmaniax@ecto.org Errors-To: owner-fegmaniax-digest@ecto.org Subject: Feg Digest V4 #134 Fegmaniax Digest Volume 4 Number 134 Send posts to fegmaniax@ecto.org Send subscribe/unsubscribe commands to majordomo@ecto.org Send comments, etc. to the listowner at owner-fegmaniax@ecto.org FegMANIAX! Web Page: http://remus.rutgers.edu/~woj/fegmaniax/ Archives are available at http://archive.uwp.edu/pub/music/lists/fegmaniax/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today's Topics: ------- ------- Re: the Entwistle list Egyptians Irving Plaza November 85 Moss elixir phantasies cdnow.... ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 14:51:50 +1100 From: james.dignan@stonebow.otago.ac.nz (James Dignan) Subject: Re: the Entwistle list >> >1) Jon Entwistle. >> >> Gosh. When I saw this I immediately remembered his ridiculous solo on >> 'Bucket T'. But I think that was probably tuba, while the French horn is >> on 'Pictures of Lily'. Does he play any other big wind parts? >> >> - Mike Godwin > >He plays the trumpet on "Heinz Baked Beans" off of _The Who Sell Out_. and there's some 'orrible sounding noises on "Cobwebs and Strange" James ------------------------------ From: billpannifer@easynet.co.uk Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 12:21:46 +0100 Subject: Egyptians Irving Plaza November 85 My one and only North American Robyn experience was a show in New York at Irving Plaza some time in early November 1985. Not an amazing show but as I wuz there I'd love a tape if anyone has one... I seem to remember being surprised there was a female player Sara Lee??- though I thought Andy was there too. All a bit hazy... I've seen an 8/7/85 Irving Plaza show listed but it was definitely later than that-- around the time of the Dead shows at meadowlands (10th/11th Nov). any help appreciated! Bill ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 14:56:02 +0100 (BST) From: M R Godwin Subject: Moss elixir phantasies What was my delight to find a rocky cell, all the angles rounded away with rich moss, and every ledge and projection crowded with lovely ferns, the variety of whose forms, and groupings, and shades wrought in me like a poem; for such a harmony could not exist, except they all consented to some one end! A little well of the clearest water filled a mossy hollow in one corner. I drank, and felt as if I knew what the elixir of life must be; then threw myself on a mossy mound that lay like a couch along the inner end. Here I lay in a delicious reverie for some time; during which all lovely forms, and colours, and sounds seemed to use my brain as a common hall, where they could come and go, unbidden and unexcused. I had never imagined that such capacity for simple happiness lay in me, as was now awakened by this assembly of forms and spiritual sensations, which yet were far too vague to admit of being translated into any shape common to my own and another mind. I had lain for an hour, I should suppose, though it may have been far longer, when, the harmonious tumult in my mind having somewhat relaxed, I became aware that my eyes were fixed on a strange, time-worn bas-relief on the rock opposite to me. This, after some pondering, I concluded to represent Pygmalion, as he awaited the quickening of his statue. The sculptor sat more rigid than the figure to which his eyes were turned. That seemed about to step from its pedestal and embrace the man, who waited rather than expected. "A lovely story," I said to myself. "This cave, now, with the bushes cut away from the entrance to let the light in, might be such a place as he would choose, withdrawn from the notice of men, to set up his block of marble, and mould into a visible body the thought already clothed with form in the unseen hall of the sculptor's brain. And, indeed, if I mistake not," I said, starting up, as a sudden ray of light arrived at that moment through a crevice in the roof, and lighted up a small portion of the rock, bare of vegetation, "this very rock is marble, white enough and delicate enough for any statue, even if destined to become an ideal woman in the arms of the sculptor." I took my knife and removed the moss from a part of the block on which I had been lying; when, to my surprise, I found it more like alabaster than ordinary marble, and soft to the edge of the knife. In fact, it was alabaster. By an inexplicable, though by no means unusual kind of impulse, I went on removing the moss from the surface of the stone; and soon saw that it was polished, or at least smooth, throughout. I continued my labour; and after clearing a space of about a couple of square feet, I observed what caused me to prosecute the work with more interest and care than before. For the ray of sunlight had now reached the spot I had cleared, and under its lustre the alabaster revealed its usual slight transparency when polished, except where my knife had scratched the surface; and I observed that the transparency seemed to have a definite limit, and to end upon an opaque body like the more solid, white marble. I was careful to scratch no more. And first, a vague anticipation gave way to a startling sense of possibility; then, as I proceeded, one revelation after another produced the entrancing conviction, that under the crust of alabaster lay a dimly visible form in marble, but whether of man or woman I could not yet tell. I worked on as rapidly as the necessary care would permit; and when I had uncovered the whole mass, and rising from my knees, had retreated a little way, so that the effect of the whole might fall on me, I saw before me with sufficient plainness--though at the same time with considerable indistinctness, arising from the limited amount of light the place admitted, as well as from the nature of the object itself--a block of pure alabaster enclosing the form, apparently in marble, of a reposing woman. She lay on one side, with her hand under her cheek, and her face towards me; but her hair had fallen partly over her face, so that I could not see the expression of the whole. What I did see appeared to me perfectly lovely; more near the face that had been born with me in my soul, than anything I had seen before in nature or art. The actual outlines of the rest of the form were so indistinct, that the more than semi-opacity of the alabaster seemed insufficient to account for the fact; and I conjectured that a light robe added its obscurity. Numberless histories passed through my mind of change of substance from enchantment and other causes, and of imprisonments such as this before me. I thought of the Prince of the Enchanted City, half marble and half a man; of Ariel; of Niobe; of the Sleeping Beauty in the Wood; of the bleeding trees; and many other histories. Even my adventure of the preceding evening with the lady of the beech-tree contributed to arouse the wild hope, that by some means life might be given to this form also, and that, breaking from her alabaster tomb, she might glorify my eyes with her presence. "For," I argued, "who can tell but this cave may be the home of Marble, and this, essential Marble--that spirit of marble which, present throughout, makes it capable of being moulded into any form? Then if she should awake! But how to awake her? A kiss awoke the Sleeping Beauty! a kiss cannot reach her through the incrusting alabaster." I kneeled, however, and kissed the pale coffin; but she slept on. I bethought me of Orpheus, and the following stones--that trees should follow his music seemed nothing surprising now. Might not a song awake this form, that the glory of motion might for a time displace the loveliness of rest? Sweet sounds can go where kisses may not enter. I sat and thought. Now, although always delighting in music, I had never been gifted with the power of song, until I entered the fairy forest. I had a voice, and I had a true sense of sound; but when I tried to sing, the one would not content the other, and so I remained silent. This morning, however, I had found myself, ere I was aware, rejoicing in a song; but whether it was before or after I had eaten of the fruits of the forest, I could not satisfy myself. I concluded it was after, however; and that the increased impulse to sing I now felt, was in part owing to having drunk of the little well, which shone like a brilliant eye in a corner of the cave. It saw down on the ground by the "antenatal tomb," leaned upon it with my face towards the head of the figure within, and sang--the words and tones coming together, and inseparably connected, as if word and tone formed one thing; or, as if each word could be uttered only in that tone, and was incapable of distinction from it, except in idea, by an acute analysis. I sang something like this: but the words are only a dull representation of a state whose very elevation precluded the possibility of remembrance; and in which I presume the words really employed were as far above these, as that state transcended this wherein I recall it: "Marble woman, vainly sleeping In the very death of dreams! Wilt thou--slumber from thee sweeping, All but what with vision teems-- Hear my voice come through the golden Mist of memory and hope; And with shadowy smile embolden Me with primal Death to cope? "Thee the sculptors all pursuing, Have embodied but their own; Round their visions, form enduring, Marble vestments thou hast thrown; But thyself, in silence winding, Thou hast kept eternally; Thee they found not, many finding-- I have found thee: wake for me." * * * * * * * Mike "Serendipity" Godwin writes: this seems to be what you get when you try to search for Moss Elixir release dates. It's from George MacDonald's "Phantastes". ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 09:05:03 -0700 (PDT) From: Griffith Davies Subject: cdnow.... After reading the fegmaniax digests regarding the CDnow cancellations, I decided to check my account because I had not received any messages from them. Not to my surprise, the order had been cancelled. This is the 2nd time that I have ordered a RH item from them that they have cancelled (the first one being the 'My Wife & My Dead Wife' CD single). Now I am bummed. The record/cd stores in my immediate area really suck. I cannot even find Soft Boys material (Yes, I am the one who posted the "Queen of Eyes question"). The really big chains here only carry a few RH discs. The one store I like doesn't have any RH (except for a used copy of Y&O). I did find a store that had about 9 copies of Respect in the cut-out bin for 4 bucks each. Mail order has been my only hope these days, and you cannot count on them. I guess I will have to try my luck at one of the chains. good luck to all fegs! griffith ps - how did that one record store manage to get advance copies and sell advanced copies of Mossy Liquor? just wonderin' ______________________________________________________________ Griffith Davies hbrtv219@dewey.csun.edu ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The End of this Fegmaniax Digest. *sob* .