BRYAN: If one must have an "American idol"--
ROBERT: (As if channeling a finicky muse) "Love's combustible thicket." "The purgatorial shriek of an old modem." "The grace with which we murder each other in the mind." "Goddess asleep in a rusty thong." "King Lear in his coveralls, scheduled for surgery to remove a partisan think-thank."
BRYAN: You're doing the poet thing? Like your old liner notes? B-but, you're not elliptical anymore. You admit your influences to Scorsese-- for PBS-- with a face so sincere, and you host explanatory radio shows, and release recombinatorily rootsy albums…Your mysterious era's kind of over.
ROBERT: "Newborn immigrants with license plates for faces." "Gormless, sozzled, and astringent."
BRYAN: You're not going to stop, are you?
ROBERT: Said the inventor of smooth jazz.
(The elevator door opens. They do not move.)
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
If you've ever wondered what Bob Dylan and Bryan Ferry would say to each other if ever stuck on an elevator, Waiting for Godot style, William Bowers constructs a lurid scenario:
Posted by Alfred Soto at 7:28 PM