“NYC proto-hipster types Bongwater take on a Moody Blues classic and pay it no respect at all. That’s just how things were in the 80s. The 60s were officially a bad trip and, if you were halfway cool, you were doing everything you could to bury them. Because they really did need to be dead for a while, so they could be reborn out of some caustic storm of superlative noise. At least that’s what it felt like at the time, the so-called Winter of Hate.” (Philip Random)
Back in NYC‘s just odd and intense from beginning to end, and particularly in the middle, nothing really sounding like you think it should, but why would it? It’s Genesis (the earlier, better Peter Gabriel version) at the peak of their powers tearing all preconceptions to shreds. Found at about the one-quarter point of The Lamb Lies Down on a Broadway a double concept album concerning a Puerto Rican street punk named Rael who sees the world end one morning on Broadway, then somehow finds himself lost in a purgatorial netherworld wherein convoluted stuff happens that even Peter Gabriel (who wrote lyrics and sang the song) was probably never quite clear on. Which may just explain some of the rage here.
Randophonic 