New York. Big city that smells bad. Lots of bands from there. here are two.
For a brief period of time there existed a thing that record store clerks like to call No Wave which was essentially an artsy fartsy reaction to regular music by making essentially anti-music and being as underground as possible and being able to sneer at people who hear it and say that it's terrible noise with an exasperated " You just don't get it" while you stand around trying to look bored/cool and hoping somebody sees you at the next Richard Kern movie premiere.
I would have fit right in in my 20's.
Meanwhile in another part of the city are the smelly little pop merchants ever plying their dusty wares to indifferent throngs who only came out to the bar to get laid. Toiling over their Farfisas hoping one day to be picked from the shadows and be given an opportunity to open for the Big Leagues when alas, they're destined instead for the dustheap of obscurity.
But at least there were beer tickets.
Two things about this single that add to its entertainment value. It came with a insert (not scanned because I didn't feel like it and nobody ever leaves comments anyway and probably doesn't even bother to read the stupid shit I type.) which you can cut and fold into your very own Dizzy and the Romilars cough medicine box you could conceivably use for your Xanax stash. Secondly there is included a fexi disc with their version of David Bowie's "TVC 15" from his "Station to Station" lp where he was so coked up at the time he doesn't even remember making it. Presumably giving away the flexi frees them from having to provide Mr. Bowie royalties, which he may or may not have actually needed in the days between his cocaine habit and "Let's Dance".
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