The Cramps
Psychedelic Jungle
1981, IRS Records
I fucked up Halloween this year. Past Octobers for me have been blizzards of horror movie watching and reviewing. A little Bela Lugosi on Tuesday, a little Peter Cushing on Wednesday, something from the Netflix junk heap on Thursday and so on. I also always get in at least one silent movie, one Hammer film, one slasher, something from the 60s drive-in, and a little 70s Eurotrash vampire lesbian action. Here in Dallas, we also have great theaters with horror repertory screenings every week and I’m known to hit several of those and write about each and every goddamn one.
This year though, not so much–and I’m not even sure why. I’ve hardly watched any movies at all. Has writing posts here and playing with my recently adopted cats really taken up THAT much of my time? Maybe.
I’ll do better next year.
As for what I have done this month in the spirit of the season, I’ve been picking at H.P. Lovecraft stories, via the Whisperer in Darkness collection, by the bedside lamp at night and enjoying the oozy, creepy atmosphere. Dismember the Alamo was fun.
And I’ve been listening to The Cramps and making my quiet little old lady living room sound like a much cooler, more dangerous place.
Continue reading “Things I Will Keep #8: THE CRAMPS, Psychedelic Jungle”