• Music
    • CDs
    • Vinyl
  • Movies
    • DVD
    • Blu-Ray
    • 3D Blu-Ray
  • Events
  • Blog
  • About
    • Contact us
    • My Account
    • Locations/Hours
    • Newsletter Signup
    • Gift Cards
    • Our Blog
    • Help
    • Rewards Program
    • We Buy Used!
    • Privacy Policy
    • FAQs
  • Menu
    • Music
      • CDs
      • Vinyl
    • Movies
      • DVD
      • Blu-Ray
      • 3D Blu-Ray
    • Events
    • Blog
  • About
    • Contact us
    • My Account
    • Locations/Hours
    • Newsletter Signup
    • Gift Cards
    • Our Blog
    • Help
    • Rewards Program
    • We Buy Used!
    • Privacy Policy
    • FAQs
  • Menu
    • Music
      • CDs
      • Vinyl
    • Movies
      • DVD
      • Blu-Ray
      • 3D Blu-Ray
    • Events
    • Blog
    • About
      • Contact us
      • My Account
      • Locations/Hours
      • Newsletter Signup
      • Gift Cards
      • Our Blog
      • Help
      • Rewards Program
      • We Buy Used!
      • Privacy Policy
      • FAQs
 

Joe Pernice

Smiths' Meat Is Murder

Joe Pernice Smiths' Meat Is Murder Widescreen Ver
$11.96 New
 
This item is not available at this time.
 




A Catholic high school near Boston in 1985. A time of suicides, gymnasium humiliations, smoking for beginners, asthma attacks, and incendiary teenage infatuations. Infatuations with a girl (Allison), with a band (The Smiths) and with an album, Meat is Murder, that was so raw, so vivid and so melodic that you could cling to it like a lifeboat in a storm.<br/><br/>Excerpt<br/>One morning as I was jogging my way past the bronze plaque commemorating the deaths of one student and one motorcyclist, my necktie flapping like a windsock, Ray floored the brake pedal of his Dodge as he closed in on me. Fifty mile an hour traffic came to a screeching, nearly murderous halt behind him. He leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window in one fluid motion. He dispensed with formalities while I marveled at the audacity of his driving and, tossing something at me, winked and said, "Here. I'm going to kill myself." He pegged the gas, leaving a surprisingly good patch of rubber for such a shitty car. In the gutter, sugared with sand put down during the winter's last snow, I saw written in red felt ink on masking tape stuck to a smoky-clear cassette: "Smiths: Meat.">

  •  

Connect With Us