 Joe
Chill In Crime Alley
(4:00) [3/10/99/5:00
am]
For Jeffrey, again.
MP3
Liner Notes
Squatting in a Café 80’s stall,
I saw some fresh vandal ink melting down its wall,
& it said: “If you’re not careful, AIDS will have your ass!”
It made me laugh; only someone my age
Would remember when that was the rage,
So why write it on an (out-of-order) graffiti-resistant glass?
It got me thinking ‘bout
"The Tenor Hitman”, Pete Delout:
Another comrade who
Never made it to retirement,
A family man & ruthless wack
Who did it to provide the rent
Like Joe Chill in Crime Alley, uh-huh.
Like Joe Chill in Crime Alley, uh-huh.
For each of us, there was a certain thing
We’d do (a nervous tick), like Pete would sing
(True to his nickname), read the Tempo page, & wait it out by choice.
His gimmick was to dress up like a cop,
Pull the john over a deserted road, then pop!
In a trunk, a victim’s handcam (cap on) once caught Pete’s voice
While he was stashing a body.
The press went nipping at his knees.
They dubbed him “Tenorman”
‘Cause they didn’t have a make or name then.
Citizens knew if a guy
Was singing in a black-and-white nearby,
Like Joe Chill in Crime Alley, he’d come,
Like Joe Chill in Crime Alley, for ‘em.
His cover blown, his cover blown,
His cover blown, he never got no work again.
He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop,
He couldn’t stop the singing when he rubbed out men.
So he got drunk, he got drunk,
He got drunk, & that made it all better then.
So he got drunk, he got drunk,
He got drunk, & that made it all better then.
On a six-lane, three trucks (in a row
Parallelling) block our hero. Trailing slow
Behind the semis, he thinks how he’ll never see
Malibu’s blue shores.
He spots the driver of a ragtop bug
Next to him who moves his lips to the same song that shrugs
Off of Pete’s radio, as Bob sings, “I’ve changed the locks on all my doors.”
Darting over grass,
They jumped the center line to pass,
Cars ahead-on turning to
Rainbow-brilliant tombs. (Nice F/X!)
They sang into each other’s mouths
While diving into auto wrecks
Like Joe Chill in Crime Alley, oh Lord.
Like Joe Chill did Crime Alley’s accord.
He was drunk, he was drunk,
He was drunk, & that makes it all better then.
He was drunk, he was drunk,
He was drunk, & that makes it all better then.
He was drunk, he was drunk,
He was drunk, & that makes it all better then.
He was drunk, he was drunk,
He was drunk, & that makes it all better then. |
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It’s fascinating the lengths someone will go to keep their mind
off the blood they’ve left on the floor, & indeed for Pete, murder has become a professional tool so ingrained &
compartmentalized that his auto insurance-scheming death seems to him
the only inevitable way out. Wherever Homicide builds a church, hard
upon it Suicide builds a chapel there. (I believe I originally
said that, hic hic . . .)
John “Cheez” Miller - Bass Guitar
Bob Mould - “The Last Night” / Black Flag - “Drinking
And Driving”
“I bet there’s rich folks eating in a fancy dining car
They’re probably drinking coffee and smoking big cigars
Well, I know I had it coming, I know I can’t be free
But those people keep a-moving, and that’s what tortures me
If they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine
You bet I’d move it on a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that’s where I’d want to stay
And I’d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.”
- Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues” (1955)
“Sometimes the best maps will not guide you
You can’t see what’s round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend.”
- Bruce Cockburn, “Pacing The Cage” (1997)
“LINDA: When he brought them business, when he was young, they were
glad to see him. But now his old friends, the old buyers that loved
him so and always found some order to hand him in a pinch ----- they’re
all dead, retired. . . He drives seven hundred miles, and when he gets
there no one knows him any more, no one welcomes him. And what goes
through a man’s mind, driving seven hundred miles home without having
earned a cent? Why shouldn’t he talk to himself? Why?”
- Arthur Miller, Death Of A Salesman (1949)
“ROBIN: How could Moxon be telling the truth when we know he was involved
in your father’s murder? That’s something nobody can forget!
BATMAN: Robin, that head injury gave Moxon amnesia, loss of memory!
He didn’t remember my father or anything that happened before the auto
accident!
ROBIN: Now let’s pick up Moxon! But first you’d better change to your
spare Batman costume ----- That last scrap really shredded this one!
BATMAN: Oh-oh! I forgot to pack a spare one in the Batplane!
ROBIN: Say ----- how about wearing your father’s costume?
BATMAN: Yes ----- it would be appropriate! It’d be almost as if Dad
were arresting Moxon!
(Later, alone in his office, Moxon looks up to see a grim figure framed
in the doorway!)
MOXON: Who ----- ?! That costume ----- I’ve seen it before ----- long
ago! I’m beginning to remember ----- a doctor ----- Doc Wayne -----
he wore that costume!
BATMAN: Great scott! I didn’t realize the shock of seeing this costume
would jar Moxon’s memory!
MOXON: Go away! You’re dead! I had Joey Chill kill you! Leave me alone!
(Fear-ridden, Moxon wrenches open a side-door and rushes out into the
night . . .)
MOXON: He’s come back to haunt me! I’ve got to get away ----- get away!
. . .
BATMAN: Moxon! Look out! That truck!
(A screech of brakes ----- a cry ----- and Moxon’s career of violence
ends in violence . . .)
BATMAN: I wanted him to take him alive . . . to stand trial for his
crimes . . . but his own guilt convicted him!”
- Bob Kane, “The First Batman” from Detective
Comics # 235 (1956)
"Do it, Otis! Do it, do it! Do it, Otis . . . You're a star!"
- Richard Fire & John McNaughton, Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer (1986)
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