I have a suspicion that this is a phrase from some ultra-famous Shakespeare soliliquy. The title is taken from Walt Whitman's poem I sing the Body Electric. Dr Avalanche (Drums) and Craig Adams (Bass) had been recruited along with some decent equipment, and the furious, intense, thrilling wall of noise was impressive enough to bag the `Single of the Week' slot in the Melody Maker. Musically and lyrically, Body Electric/Adrenochrome represent a significant advance on the Damage Done single.
#SISTERS OF MERCY ANACONDA LYRICS SERIES#
The cover features Francis Bacon's excellent Head VI, one of a series of Bacon pictures based on Velasquez's portrait of Pope Innocent X. CNT (Confederacion National de Trabajo) was the name of an anarchist worker's collective which was active in the Spansih Civil War.
#SISTERS OF MERCY ANACONDA LYRICS FULL#
I know in my bones that Lucretia, in its full eight-and-a-half minute flight, is a track to drive a tank to. Sincere or ironic? Who can ever really know? I met Eldritch once, on 6 Music, and he unironically requested that the studio webcam be switched off as he wasn’t dressed in character however, he struck me as a very wry and self-aware chap, so, again, who can ever really know?
The Wagnerian pomp that had driven the first album was turned up to eleven. The album followed through, with a form of rock not really yet stamped by the latecoming American consensus as “industrial”, and no holds barred. I remember seeing the darkly operatic** video for This Corrosion on ITV’s The Chart Show, with its inclement weather and Fester-and-Morticia double act. Thus, I applauded the Sisters Of Mercy’s brazen bridgehead into crossover. (And when I say I saw them, I peered into a wall of dry ice for an hour and occasionally caught a glimpse of a human figure.)īy the time Floodland came out in 1988, I was old enough to have a) embraced all musical forms, including jazz, blues and Bob Dylan, although not yet opera*, and b) stowed any punk-rock snobbery about “selling out”. I saw the Sisters live at London’s Lyceum in the mid-decade and felt it a religious experience. I had fallen in love with the first incarnation during my provincial Goth phase in 1983, enchanted by those rattly early singles Anaconda and Temple Of Love. Lavishly tortured imperial grandeur is the guiding light of the second incarnation of the Sisters after all that legal argy-bargy over the name, which Eldritch won, and although he clearly resents the idea that a more mainstream rock audience “discovered” the band via the expensive studio metalwork of Jim Steinman on This Corrosion (he didn’t work on Lucretia), it provided quite a spectacle, with a band, or brand, so rooted in the underground emerging via MTV onto the freeway and blinking in the light. Who cares? Lucretia is immortalised, and sits between Marian and Alice in Sisters Of Mercy lady-worship. According to extensive research on Wikipedia, I have gathered that Andrew Eldritch wrote the song for his then-new collaborator Patricia Morrison in tribute to her similarities to Pope Alexander VI’s scheming daughter.
Having thoroughly enjoyed the lavishly tortured imperial grandeur of Showtime’s The Borgias via Sky Atlantic over three seasons, I now hear the name in the title of this pounding song as “Lucrezia” (with an Italianate “zz”). Description: single album track, Floodland
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