Axl on the ego ramp (Photo by rogeriotomazjr)
Here’s a new rock n roll bike route review (Division is a crappy bike route, and I partook while on foot, but sometimes you have to just follow your muse. Want to read the rest? They live here.
I’m thinking of giving this feature a proper title: RPM (Revolutions per Mile). What do you think?
Division Street on Halloween Night (the single)
I started on this one contemplating the dissonance between the excited squeals of small children with the roar of car traffic. Is the sum greater than its irritating parts? Whoever mixed these elements was clearly biased towards the bass of the rushing metal boxes. The experience started off unpromising and quickly went downhill, leading me to wonder if it would be legal to call 911 to report that everyone on Division Street tonight is drunk. And that’s the crux of it — there’s no coherent vision at work here, just the sloppy hangover of the long-ago jamboree of freeway building in which this whole neighborhood would have been an arena ego ramp of epic proportions for unrelenting metal driving hard & straight towards Mount Hood while the crowd writhed and screamed below. The little zombies crawling around tonight are cute and harmless by comparison. But the echos of the nightmare remain and I felt palpable relief, for the first time in recent memory, to see a police cruiser sedately roll up to a stop sign, leaving a wake of calmed traffic behind it.