#The Rolling Stones Ventilator Blues

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Lyric Video: Deap Vally Tackles a Classic Stones Tune with Swaggering Aplomb

Lyric Video: Deap Vally Tackles a Classic Stones Tune with Swaggering Aplomb @DeapVally @clarioncallpr @imtherealcb @RollingStones @MickJagger @officialKeef

Acclaimed Los Angeles-based rock duo Deap Vally — Julie Edwards (drums, vocals) and Lindsey Troy (guitar, vocals) — can trace their origins to the duo’s chance meeting in a knitting class over a decade ago. The Los Angeles-based duo’s debut single, 2012’s “Gonna Make My Own Money,” was released through tiny British indie label Ark Recordings. Since then, Edwards and Troy went on to release three…

[spilladabalia]

Deap Vally - Ventilator Blues

[rollingstonesdata]

ROLLING STONES SONGS: 'VENTILATOR BLUES' (1972)

Rolling Stones songs: Ventilator Blues*Click for MORE ROLLING STONES SONGS 1962-PRESENTWhen you’re trapped and circled with no second chance/ Your code of living is your gun in hand,,, Written by: Jagger/Richard/TaylorRecorded: Rolling Stones Mobile, Nellcote, France, Jun.-Nov. 1971; Sunset Sound Studios, Los Angeles, USA, Dec. 1971-March 1972; RCA Studios, Los Angeles, USA, March 1972Guest…

[meme-streets]

il brutto.

01 lungs – townes van zandt 02 wanted dead or alive – warren zevon 03 do it again – steely dan 04 black widow blues – townes van zandt 05 ventilator blues – the rolling stones 06 goin' out west – tom waits 07 highway chile – jimi hendrix 08 born under a bad sign – albert king 09 laundromat – rory gallagher 10 who do you love – townes van zandt 11 brown eyed handsome man – chuck berry 12 hate street dialogue – rodríguez 13 snake mountain blues – townes van zandt 14 should've learnt my lesson – rory gallagher 15 just a bum – michael hurley 16 paper mountain man – linda perhacs 17 spoonful – howlin' wolf 18 driftin' blues – lowell fulson 19 get behind the mule – tom waits 20 dirge – bob dylan 21 rake – townes van zandt

if you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?

[milfjagger]

when the blues riff hits i feel no pain at all

[moonlightmile12]

"At Nellcote while they’re recording Exile and Mick Taylor and Keith are starting to butt heads. Mick Taylor gets songwriting credits for “Ventilator Blues” but not for anything else. I mean, “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking” is all Mick Taylor, sounding very much like Santana, playing fabulously. Then on the American tour, it’s all so crazy, everybody is trying to survive, but it really is when they are recording Exile, and so much of the work was done in LA after they leave Nellcote, that Mick Taylor starts to lose his desire to be a member of the Rolling Stones, which I guess now is really hard for anybody to understand."

Robert Greenfield

[neilphen]

2, 11, 28 for the song thing :3

kissing u hard w tongue. thank u

 2. a crisp, cold fall day 

oh i loveee playing second hand news fleetwood mac or sweet virginia rolling stones when its cold and breezy out soo much.

to hype yourself up

depends what im hyping myself up for!! private idaho is a car favorite for my friend group, idk how we havent crashed the car to that one yet with how hard we end up going. i really enjoy paint it black if im feeling evil or ventilator blues too. want you bad by the offsprings another one i tend to do when im stretching pre run that really makes me wanna become sonic the hedgehog 

28. making you roll your eyes 

hmm im confused on this one so ill give a few :p break stuff by limp bizkit is great for when im pissed off at everyone. angry by mars argo is also one i found myself enjoying right before i broke up w my ex, and not allowed by tv girl is one i dont wanna like but i do, so i roll my own eyes at myself lol

ask me song questions :p

[heaveninawildflower]

Ventilator Blues- The Rolling Stones.

[rolloroberson]

Bobby Keys and Jim Price at Nellcote recording Exile on Main Street. First photo shows Keith Richards and producer, Jimmy Miller, listening on the floor.

From the famed photo sessions of Dominique Tarle.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

something abt the cadence is really captivating

[rocknrollwillneverdie-blog1]

Ventilator Blues - The Rolling Stones (Exile on Main St., 1972)

[mondscheinprinzessin]

we’re camping and my tent ripped, can I please share yours? 🥺

the twins are sharing and Aleksi’s tent ripped 😭 now he hopes the nice strangers he met yesterday will take him in 🥺

(I’m sorry that’s more than just the prompt ignore it if it’s annoying 😅😅)

Why on earth Aleksi decided on a camping trip around Europe after he finished studying was beyond his understanding.

“You’re still so young, you don’t have to work immediately, have some fun.” Were the arguments he mostly heard from his peers, friends, parents. And eventually he had caved in, buying a tent and everything he needed while walking around the country and having to support himself while being alone.

It only needed two weeks for him to realize that he hated camping.

Mosquitos apparently loved him to death, no sun creme saved his fair skin from the sun he had to face every day, his hat had been blown away from a strong breeze of wind at the third day, his back hurt from basically sleeping on the floor every night, he missed his dog and he felt very alone.

More than once he had thought about calling this trip off and returning home. But he was no man admitting defeat. He was stubborn and determined, he would do this and there was no protesting allowed.

Nevertheless his mood this day was down. The sun was once again beating down on him and he regretted doing this in the middle of summer, not used to the high temperatures that could not be found on Finnish thermometers.

He could treat himself to a popsicle, tasty vanilla ice cream wrapped in nuts and chocolate, he though while walking past a store. He needed to stock up on supplies anyways, he told himself to justify the shopping trip.

The shop was ventilated and nicely cold when he entered, and he sighed out in bliss. It was on the smaller side and there weren’t many people inside apart from him. Therefore he could perfectly understand every word in the conversation between the two guys in the snack aisle, and because they apparently spoke his mother tongue.

“I don’t want chili, it hurts my tongue, let’s go with vinegar.” One of them with longer hair said.

“Vinegar?!” Curly head shot back. “Chili hurts your tongue, but you want vinegar? Why am I together with you, your taste is terrible and not just with food.”

“Yeah, and I’m together with you, that’s really supporting your argument.”

“I’m not sure if that’s more of a burn against me or you.”

Dude with long blonde hair rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. “Just grab the chips with chili, but you pay.” He said and wandered to the cash register.

From the exchange Aleksi wouldn’t have been able to tell that they were a couple. Although they behaved suspiciously like his grandparents, and he had to chuckle at the thought. They were both cute though, he couldn’t deny him that thought either.

Buying his own food, Aleksi stepped out of the store again and took the wrapping off his popsicle, licking at the chocolate with a low groan. The coldness and sweetness on his tongue was a welcomed change and he closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, he almost froze in his movement and halted with his tongue stuck to the tip of the ice, slowly giving it a kitten lick before his tongue retreated into his mouth.

Two pairs of eyes were on him, blue and just as cold as the ice that had been disappearing in his mouth. He swallowed with the popsicle in his mouth and then turned and walked away.

That had been embarrassing.

But it only got worse.

After a short tour through the city, he decided to make his way to his place for the night. Feeling slightly woozy from the heat and the relentless sun he didn’t look out for the uneven street and tripped over a stone on his way, falling forward to his knees. He hissed at the scraped skin and when blood oozed out from the scratches. The bright red wasn’t doing any better for his light-headedness and he stumbled when he pushed himself up with one arm.

During his fall he came close with a broken off fence at the side of the road and he had to discover that his backpack not only grazed the rusted metal but that one post with a sharp edge had ripped a hole in the cover of his tent. Not only that. The tent itself had a hole and not just a small one.

Fuck, he couldn’t sleep in this. Even if it didn’t rain, the wind and bugs would make it impossible to get a wink of sleep.

Groaning and cursing he rolled it up again and stowed it away. He was close to the campsite, surely they could provide him with a tent for the night? Or he would somehow find another option.

And indeed, when he arrived, the first thing he noticed was the bickering couple and he smiled automatically.

“I told you Joonas! I told you to take the money and watch after it.” The one with the long hair said and waved with his arms.

“Well I did! And then I saw a nice ring that fit you perfectly and I wanted to surprise you. But of course, Joel Hokka can’t appreciate a nice romantic gesture.”

“This is not about me, okay!” The first guy – Joel – snapped and put both his hands to his face then to his waist. “You blew the money for our dinner. I said I wanted to go out on our anniversary. Do something special, ya know, and not just sit in this stupid tent every night.”

Apparently he was done after this and marched away, leaving Joonas behind who quickly followed his steps.

A plan formed in Aleksi’s head then. After all he had been shopping today and he would gladly share his food if they would allow him to sleep in their tent tonight. Who knew, maybe it would be fun.

Making himself presentable in the washroom provided by the campsite, he then made his round in search of the right tent, which didn’t take long as the couple was still at it, the quarrel not settled yet over their ruined date night.

Clearing his throat, he drew their attention on them, and it worked better than he thought as they immediately stopped talking and looked at him.

Before he could say anything though Joonas spoke up. “Is that blood?” He asked and already crouched down to feel at his knee. “Joel, give me the tissues and water, please.”

Without complaining Joel gave him the things and Joonas started to clear the small wounds caused by the pebbles and sand on the road.

“Actually…uhm.” Aleksi started, suddenly not sure anymore if he should really do this, after all these two were still strangers but then again, he didn’t have many other options. “I heard you two fighting and I thought- ” He flinched slightly when Joonas rubbed over a sensitive spot which he apologized for, looking up to him on his knees and proceeded to clean the skin with more care. “I thought I could share my dinner with you.” Aleksi rushed out to say before his confidence gave out.

Both, Joel and Joonas, made to look at him at that and he continued to explain, “Actually it’s a really selfish offer of me because my tent ripped and I don’t know where to sleep tonight, so I hoped there would be more space in your tent? It’s definitely not a problem if you don’t or…no it would be a problem because I do have to sleep somewhere tonight. And I saw you at the store earlier and thought, well, at least you’re not complete strangers? That doesn’t make a sense.” Aleksi pinched his nose as he closed his eyes, waiting for the couple to chase him away.

But nothing of that sort happened. Instead they gave each other a short look and then Joonas kneeled up to get back to his height.

“We wouldn’t want to be responsible if anything happened to you, so we would love to share.” Joonas said with a bright smile. “But be aware our tent doesn’t offer that much space and even though that guy over there always looks grumpy, he turns into a cuddly bear at night.”

Aleksi laughed at Joonas’ statement and when Joel rolled his eyes again. But he didn’t argue against Joonas or that Aleksi would sleep with them tonight. Not with them! Just in their tent while they were also there.

Aleksi had to tell himself that again when Joonas turned around and offered a great view of the shorts he was wearing, the pastel pink doing his skin a great favour.

[tfc2211]

Play ▶ The Rolling Stones 

2,000 Light Years From Home (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction Get Off Of My Cloud It's Only Rock 'n Roll (But I Like It) Shake Your Hips Heaven Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker) Street Fighting Man Child Of The Moon Ventilator Blues I Just Want To See His Face Pass The Wine (Sophia Loren) Fingerprint File In Another Land I Got The Blues Gimme Shelter 100 Years Ago Can't You Hear Me Knocking 2120 South Michigan Avenue Bitch

[rollingstonesdata]

ROLLING STONES UNRELEASED: 'UP AGAINST THE WALL' (1977)

Rolling Stones unreleased: Up Against the Wall*Click for MORE STONES UNRELEASED TRACKSÂlso known as: ‘On Our Knees’Written by: Jagger/RichardRecorded: EMI Pathé-Marconi Studios, Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Oct. 10-Dec. 1977From Martin Elliott’s book THE ROLLING STONES COMPLETE RECORDING SESSIONS 1962-2012:An instrumental with harmonica, the introduction reminiscent of Ventilator Blues. Keith…

[meme-streets]

for no reason other than i can, if i had to assign the main three gbu characters a classic rock song each

tuco: "ventilator blues" – the rolling stones blondie: "the changeling" – the doors angel eyes: "sinister purpose" – creedence clearwater revival

[dagasii]

The Life, Afterlife

(Light gore warning!)

He was never going to forgive her. She knew that when she heard the scream. The way he cried her name. What she was about to do was something irredeemable, even if she survived it. Especially if she survived it. She took one last look at Gaspard's face, and Dagasi let a circle of aether sweep out from herself. It shoved her friends to safety, it shoved him to safety. And that was what mattered the most. Even if he spent years cursing her name. When the smoke choked the life from her and the rocks beat her unconscious, Gaspard was the last thing she saw.

What a heartbreaking, beautiful note to end on. Would that all should be as lucky as Dagasi, to see the love of their lives in their life’s last moments. Would that none should be as unlucky as Gaspard, to watch their future bleed away upon the stones and be unable to even hold the remains. 

She floated upon a bed of darkness, rested in a dreamless sleep for longer than she knew. Halfway between dead and alive, gone and present. It had been two explorative Kagon boys to find her, wedged between fallen and jagged rocks, shielded from the flame by the same stone that had bludgeoned her into sleep. Her face was caked in dried blood that fused her left eye shut, her hair caught between fallen rocks. When they found her, her right hand was still curled in a tight fist around a gunbreaker’s cartridge that hung from a long chain around her neck. 

Those boys saved her. They’d cut her hair free from the rocks and carefully extracted her from the crevice she’d wedged herself in. Under cover of night, they’d taken turns carrying her across the plains and desert, all to get home before sunrise. All to save a sole woman in the caves.

Dagasi awoke far from her resting place, under the walls of a vast tent. She could see the sky through the thin ventilation ring at the top. The stars glimmered above against an endless night. Her body screamed in agony with even the rolling of her eyes in her head, but she couldn't stop. Something about it felt wrong, as if something was missing from the world, and only repeating the action over and over would tell her what it was.

"Oh, you've woken!" Chimed a feminine voice from Dagasi's left. She jumped and whipped her head that way to reveal a woman standing to her side. There was no reason Dagasi shouldn't have been able to see her from the periphery, why couldn't she? The woman crooned, holding out one hand to smooth Dagasi's hair back. "Easy," she whispered. "You're safe here. We're not going to hurt you. I'm Bolormaa."

Bolormaa smiled gently, once again running her fingers through Dagasi's jaggedly cut hair. She had blue skin so pale it touched the border of white, with a kindly but angular face, a long nose, and thin lips. Her eyes sparkled bright lavender beneath thin wisps of sand-colored hair that had broken free from the thick braid down her back. Dagasi placed her roughly at age fifty, based on her careworn appearance. Her horns were small though, short and stubby like a child’s. Perhaps they were regrowing after injury, or perhaps they’d never grown properly at all.

The elder woman caught the younger’s dazed stare and let out a soft chuckle. Her weathered hands finally disentangled from Dagasi’s hair, and instead gently tilted her face so that Bolormaa might look more closely at the damage. 

Dagasi gurgled softly in protest, then sucked in a breath that turned to a violent cough. The taste of iron bloomed upon her tongue, and her expression soured. Bolormaa quietly brought forth a bowl for Dagasi to spit into, then cupped her hand around the opening so that Dagasi couldn’t see the clump of blood she’d spit up. 

“Where am I?” The younger finally rasped.

“Kagon Iloh,” Bolormaa responded softly. She took one of Dagasi’s hands, either ignoring or unaware of the racing heart that threatened to leap out of her chest. Healers were frightening enough. Healers she didn’t know were worse. Tears threatened to well up in Dagasi’s eyes, and Bolormaa softly tutted. “Relax,” she murmured, brushing her knuckle over the young woman’s cheeks.

Dagasi couldn’t relax. Instead, she hoisted herself up onto one elbow with a long, pained groan. Her teeth grit so hard as to be painful in its own right, but she finally made it up and off the furs below her. Bolormaa stared at her, lips pressing into a thin line. Dagasi’s vision swam with pain, but she could faintly make out the warm light of the hearth, and a basket of old bandages to her right. By now, Dagasi knew something was wrong with her vision, as the left side of her periphery was plunged into darkness.

A sharp, slow clap echoed throughout the tent. “Wow!” Bolormaa started. Her voice edged with causticity. “How very tough you are. Now lay back down.”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?”

Bolormaa frowned. Wordlessly, the woman pushed out of her wooden chair and padded softly across the tent, to the table a short way away. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of a roughly shaped mirror before shuffling back and handing the mirror to Dagasi. “You may look, or you may not.”

Dagasi took the mirror, careful not to look into it yet as she set it into her lap. “Should I?”

“No. Will you?”

“Yes.”

She lofted the mirror up to her face, peering at who looked back at her. A woman with aubergine-dark skin and one foglike eye rimmed with the soft yellow of morning dawn looked back at her. The left eye, however, had been clouded and muddied. Its iris only barely distinguishable from the whites of her eye. Her limbal ring, once luminescent, shone no longer. Her fingers traced the arc around her eye socket as her lips parted in shock. Horror. Dagasi felt her stomach churn as she looked. At the eye, at her ragged hair, at the wide circular wound just barely beneath the left side of her collarbone. Minor injuries compared to death. But injuries that had, one by one, taken a part of herself. The one-eyed archer had taken Dagasi’s eye in revenge for the sins of the Tumet. Had left a mark above her heart in one final blow struck by Khaliun’s memory.

Finally, their ancient affair had maimed them both. And Dagasi would carry the mark for the rest of her life while Khaliun bore his in death.

Bolormaa seemed to know what Dagasi was thinking, and she circled around so that her visage lurked in the reflection behind Dagasi’s. “You carried the weight of Azim’s evil on you,” she told Dagasi. “But Nhaama guarded you; she hung the moon in your injured eye as an exchange for her mercy. Don’t look so dismayed. Think of it as a thing of beauty. It’s a reminder of your resilience and Nhaama’s love.”

Dagasi traced the arc of her flesh one more time before Bolormaa gently reached over her shoulder and pried the mirror from her fingers. “That’s enough,” the older woman said softly. “I have stew going. Are you hungry?”

Dagasi nodded once, staring at the furs that bunched around her waist as she finally, finally pushed herself to sit upright. She was starving, actually. Ravenous in a way she’d only been when she was ten and walking the plains for the third day. And so Bolormaa smiled, nodding as she ladled a spoonful into a wooden bowl. She nestled it into Dagasi’s lap and dropped in a wooden spoon for the young woman to use.

“Eat, pretty girl. What’s your name?”

Dagasi’s fingers clumsily grappled with the spoon. Bolormaa watched like a hawk, and Dagasi began to suspect this was actually some sort of test. After a moment, she managed. Scooping came easier than grabbing the spoon, which seemed to satisfy her healer-turned-guard.

“Dagasi,” she grumbled before shoveling stew into her mouth. It was hearty and rich, made of dzo and… That tasted like gulo gulo and popotoes. “Dagasi of the Tumet.”

“Dagasi of the Tumet,” came Bolormaa’s soft echoing. “That explains why they left you for dead. A harsh tribe, the Tumet.”

Harsh indeed. Dagasi could still hear the archer’s accusation to her aunt. The reminder that Odgerel had already asked her why she poisoned the tree. And had still pretended to Dagasi that she was clueless. Her sweet, motor-mouthed aunt fed Dagasi and her friends to this rage-fueled archer like lambs to be sacrificed. Did she know that the archer’s spite was sparked by Dagasi’s actions? How could anyone? Could Dagasi even blame herself? She defended herself and her people. How was she to know Khaliun had a child he had adopted, hidden in a cave somewhere?

Her free hand lifted to her chest, grappling for the gunbreaker’s cartridge that normally dangled there. Feeling around, she couldn’t find it. It was gone. But of course, Bolormaa was on top of things. She lifted the cartridge from the table near the bed, using her fingers to spread the chain so it would slip over a person’s head. 

“Be still,” she told Dagasi. And Dagasi listened, freezing in place as her caretaker slipped the long chain around her neck. With it returned, Dagasi could comfortably cling to it. And so that’s what she did. Its original owner was bound to be worried sick. Or worse, under the impression she was dead. And that thought made Dagasi’s heart pound in her chest. If Gaspard thought her dead, he was bound to be mourning. His heart was boundless, vast and full of love to give. When she arrived, he would surely forgive her for making him mourn like he had. He’d be overjoyed to see her. And he would forgive her reckless self-sacrifice because when it came to her, and to the whole group? Gaspard would have done the same.

He would forgive her, but as Dagasi ran her thumb across the top of his cartridge, and as she ate her stew while her caretaker began to work; Dagasi wasn’t so sure she could forgive herself.