Word: totalled
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...mood and the electronic mesh of sound contributes powerfully to the spirit of the song. Townshend has done other wonderful things with his electronic control--on 'Out in the Street' one of the Who's earliest recordings there is a flickering gash of feedback that jars the listener into total awareness, on 'Call Me Lightning' there is a brief sputter of amplified plucking and then the sound switches into the full-fledged majestic whine of electric lead guitar and you get what it means to integrate Noise and Music...
...This total effect, the fusion of music to meaning crops up in all of their past work. In 'Pictures of Lily' Townshend tells the story of a small boy, probably himself, who is given a picture by his father to 'help him sleep at night'. Gradually the boy falls in love with the picture and one day goes to his father to ask about the girl Lily only to be told that she has been dead for years. There are several visionary musical breakthroughs in the song. It is a medium fast song but in the middle the drums suddenly...
This mere outline is not enough and the song has to be listened to for the total experience, full of dark and slippery suggestion, to understand the Who's near-total mastery of this medium they have created for themselves...
...Lessons of History, the Durants do not set themselves up as oracles. On the contrary, they are disarmingly honest in admitting that all historians operate with partial knowledge, and that any belief that they can examine a past epoch with total perspective is largely an optical illusion. "Most history is guessing," they confess, "and the rest is prejudice." Still, in their long tour through history, the Durants have reached some conclusions. A major one is that man, and not his environment, makes civilization. Over and over again, they submit, man has proved his capacity to make a culture when...
...dead men, seeking refuge from the stony midday sun, no longer knowing that they walked. Land was like alcohol; he walked, and walking was like drinking. He drank it in on waking, and went all day from sundown to blackout wallowing in it until he dropped from exhaustion and total inebriation, happy and not caring if he ever woke again. Trudging all day over the flat stale beer of the stony plain, brandy of hills, mouth shut tight because it seeped in continually through eyes, ears, nose and anus, the drink of land and the never-ending gutterbout of topography...