Atomic: Difference between revisions

If this is nuclear holocaust — an atom-age ''rapture''<ref>See what I did there?</ref> — then I ''want'' this sweet apocalyptic disco.

<big>{{smallcaps|Part I: Three blind mice}}</big><br>''What''? Why start ''there''? Because it plays a trick. A triumphal ascent, set to a martial, marching cadence to signify their — ''our'' — steady progress to our certain evisceration. ''Did you ever see such a thing in your life''? The beat is mechanical, like a machine beyond mortal control, a crazy escalating upbeat, but in case we have not deduced what the nice found out, ''we are in a minor key''? We can’t say we weren’t warned, warned, but things are beyond our reasonable power to change. At the crescendo — are we happy or sad? — a parade ground drumroll — what is ''coming'', and is this ''it'', or a premature end? An adolescent spurt? A jolt, ''un petit mort'' — sex is death & death is sex, a little cresting wave, a sure-shot snareshot — ''stop'' —

<big>{{smallcaps|Part II: The Vamp: Spaghetti western guitars & an impatient punk drummer}}</big><br>We open on a wide empty dustbowl, a kerrang of spaghetti western guitars and the rollercoaster clunges down into the abyss. Now the drummer, Burke, sets the pace, pulling frantically at the beat, a brisk four-on-the-floor stomp, hauling the band along at 135 — you ''know'' he’d go 150 if they’d only get a leg on — just two measures in and he’s given up on the quarter notes and is ''impatiently drumming his fingers'' with sarcastic hi-hat triplets as if to say, NO RUSH GUYS JUST WHEN YOU ARE READY.  

But Stein and Infante and their cool-hand Ennio Morricone guitars ''will not be rushed''. Their vibe is dreamy double-tracked twang and you know that this is James Calvin Willsey learned everything he knew, God rest him.