As a writer, I'm always intrigued--whether in fiction, nonfiction, poetry or song--by a unique description, or the turn of an interesting phrase. The one above is a fine example. It is the last line of lyrics from the first stanza of the classic, if not enigmatic, Blue Oyster Cult track "Joan Crawford."
Junkies down in Brooklyn are going crazy
They're laughing just like hungry dogs in the street
Policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls
Their eyes have turned the color of frozen meat
They're laughing just like hungry dogs in the street
Policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls
Their eyes have turned the color of frozen meat
| | The song is one of my favorites, with its haunting piano intro, following by lead singer Eric Bloom's vocals which place an almost spitting emphasis on the words, "frozen meat" (1:33 mark). What I find so fascinating is that I'm not even sure what the specific color of frozen meat is, and if it is truly that menacing. In fact, I pulled a frozen steak from my freezer to see if I was missing the viseral impact of the color. I wasn't. And while we might equate the idea of something being frozen with being lifeless and barren, more evocative descriptions of meat (and death and violence) are typically "bloody," "raw," "blood-red." |
Yet, as the stanza indicates, Brooklyn has deteriorated so greatly that the idea of policemen, society's protectors, needing to seek refuge hiding behind the skirts of little girls, is enough to evoke impending doom--however it might be described in the color of their eyes. So why does this particular line hit me so hard? I'm still not sure. But I know I like it.
#blueoystercult #joancrawford #music #writing #lyrics
#blueoystercult #joancrawford #music #writing #lyrics
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