byronic :: mad bad and dangerous to know

micdel:

According to this illustrated letter to Seattle-based band Aerobic Death in 1984, Dave Grohl was compiling and selling mixtapes with his friends at the age of 15 — this particular compilation bearing the name “John Denver’s Nightmare.” Two years later, 17-year-old Grohl dropped out of school to become the drummer for punk band Scream. A few years after that, he was a member of Nirvana.

Transcript follows. Image courtesy of Matador Records. 

______________________

HI, IM DAVID GROHL FROM WASHINGTON D.C., AND ME AND MY FRIEND ARE PUTTING OUT A COMPILATION TAPE OF ABOUT 15 DIFFERENT BANDS FROM ALL OVER. WELL, WEWANT YOU! THE TAPE IS GONNA BE CALLED “JOHN DENVERS NIGHTMARE” ITS GONNA BE SOLD AT ALMOST ALL OF THE D.C. SHOWS, SO IT WON’T BE A WASTE OF TIME. THIS IS WHO WE’VE TALKED TO - MAUFICE, UNDERGROUND SOLDIER, PRESIDENTIAL A.I.D.S., THE DEAD ENDS, CHIPS PATROL, N.I.L.8. BUT WE ARE FINDING OTHER BANDS. WE ONLY NEED 3 SONGS AND THEY CAN BE GARAGE RECORDINGS. I READ ABOUT YOU IN “WARNING” AND I THOUGHT I’D WRITE. THIS IS WHAT WE NEED:

PICTURES OF THE BAND
3 SONGS (ON TAPE)
LYRICS
THE LINEUP

WRITE BACK AND TELL ME WHETHER OR NOT YOU WANT TO DO IT. THANX, 

DAVID GROHL
5516 KATHLEEN PL.
SPRINGFIELD, VA.
22151

OUR ADS FOR LOOKING FOR BANDS WILL SOON BE IN:
THE LEADING EDGE
SHOOT
WARNING
AND RAD

WRITE BACK!!!!

Winchester, England, September 1819 - letter from John Keats to Joshua Reynolds: 

“How beautiful the season is now—How fine the air. A temperate sharpness about it. Really, without joking, chaste weather—Dian skies—I never liked stubble-fields so much as now—Aye better than the chilly green of the spring. Somehow, a stubble-field looks warm—in the same way that some pictures look warm. This struck me so much in my Sunday’s walk that I composed upon it.”

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’erbrimmed their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, - 
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. 

John Keats, Ode to Autumn - Online Collection of Keats manuscripts * 

Letter from Federico García Lorca to Jorge Guillén, [February 1927].

Incluye dibujo de un corazón y un gallo.

(via www.larepublicacultural.es)