Not Fade Away

This is a test.

For the next 60 seconds,

this station will conduct

a test of the

Emergency Broadcast System.

This is only a test.

- Is that you?

- Hey.

Long time, huh?

Still selling ice creams

off your bicycle?

Bollocks.

American R&B?

Did you...

Did you nick them all?

I sent off to Chicago.

You know, mail order?

I play that Little Queenie.

Still wearing out the stylus

on your mum's Philips, Keith?

F***, Mick.

I don't play it on the f***ing hi-fi.

I got me a Rosetti steel-string.

DeArmond pickup.

Nice. I've been singing

a bit myself recently.

With ol' Dick Taylor.

Is that right?

You go for Jimmy Reed?

"Baby, What You Want Me To Do."

Yeah. Yeah.

I love that song.

This meeting took place

some 20 years after

the bombing of London

and the end

of World War II.

We know what happened

to those two boys.

They became

The Rolling Stones.

A couple years after that meeting

on the train,

my brother and his friends

also started a band.

Not so many people know

what became of them.

In fact, like with most bands,

you've never heard of them.

Those black diamond Rogers

are cooler than sh*t.

Swiv-O-Matic hardware.

This f***ing guy I know

goes to Hancock Regional?

He has a 6118.

That's where I f***ing go.

I f***ing go to

Delbarton Academy.

F***ing eats sh*t.

I'm f***ing transferring

to Hancock senior year.

What's your friend's name?

Gene Gaunt.

F***, I know him!

He's like one of my

best friends this year!

Him and me are in a band.

With Billy Schindewulf on drums.

Gaunt's double picking!

They're clapping on the on-beat.

Fags.

Preceding the hearse,

a 13-man Marine Honor Guard,

their bayonets glinting in the glare

of camera lights.

Not going to work today, Dad?

Carmine and me are deciding whether

to open the store.

Lots of businesses are closed.

Good. I'm happy for them.

They're so rich.

I saw my sister Louise

at the Celentano wake.

She started right in.

How I should find Ma a new doctor.

Mrs. Kennedy rode

with her arm stretched across the coffin.

She was wearing

the same pink suit

that was spattered with blood

when the President was shot.

Had one of your

nightmares last night.

What the hell were you

hollering about this time?

This colored boy was trying

to come up the lawn to get me.

The kids in schools in the south

stood up and cheered

when he got assassinated.

Don't believe everything

you hear.

No, you're right.

Let's believe

"The heartbreak of psoriasis"

and all those other commercials

you sell airtime for.

Buick and those jerks.

The men who had

the genius and the daring

to develop the Dynaflow

transmission... Kenneth.

...are jerks.

I'm going to volunteer

to go down there.

That's a crafty dodge from your

plunging grade point average.

How's the bird?

Happy Thanksgiving, Mother.

I think we got a bongo-drum

playing beatnik in our midst.

Stop it, you little fag!

You're a fag!

Stop toying with your

yams and sit up.

The Southerners cheered

because President Kennedy

wanted to pass voting laws

for colored people.

Exactly, Gracie.

That is the precise reason

JFK went and garnered

such animus for himself

down in Dixieland.

Garnered such what?

Look it up,

Mrs. Allen Ginsberg.

Clocks are made by men.

God creates time.

No man can prolong

his allotted hours.

He can only live

them to the fullest

in this world or in

the Twilight Zone.

You can give this program

back to the Indians,

as far as I'm concerned.

- It's cool.

-Now, Mr. Serling.

Next time, we enlist the aid

of a very talented scribe...

There is a fifth dimension

beyond that known to man,

between light and shadow.

At the end of the show,

nothing is ever what it seemed.

Real life's too much

like what it seems.

Dad, this Army recruiter

who came to our school,

he said they got

a tank now, the M60,

can drive right through

a steel and concrete building.

Maron.

I want to go to a college

that has ROTC.

Keep your grades up.

Achieving your goals

is 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration.

Night.

Good night.

It's hard to imagine now,

but the next historical event came only

three weeks after the assassination.

Scott Muni, WABC.

What's that?

Hey, Bette.

It's hot in here.

I know who he was looking at you.

He was, I swear.

It's not just Grace Deitz.

Chicks in general just...

Wait, wait.

Let's face it.

I'm a crap drummer.

I'm a sh*t athlete.

And that is the biggest sin,

if you're from around here.

He's right, man.

Jocks get 90, 95% of all the poontang.

You played varsity ball

till you got disallowed for grades.

The reason me and Wells

never asked you

to be in the band

is Schindewulf.

The guy's got the fastest

bass-drum foot in the county.

I love her, man!

Hey, shut up!

You want to bring the cops here?

Nothing has ever worked

for me with girls.

I got this skinny physique.

I got this skuzzy complexion.

Rolling Stones.

Aren't they great?

They're gonna leave

right after the show for London.

They're challenging The Beatles

to a hair-pulling contest.

What the f*** are

you doing, man?

My old man's going

to go f***ing apeshit!

You see The Stones

on Hollywood Palace last night?

Yeah.

This definitely decides it.

I'm starting a band like them

and The Beatles.

Wells is in.

You want to play drums?

What about Schindewulf?

He's doing so putrid at school,

his old man's making him

join the Marines.

And when our record comes out,

he's got to be available

to go on tour.

England, whatever.

Anyway, I need someone

to back me up on vocal.

When we f*** around making fun

of those songs on the radio,

you sound pretty good.

Isn't Wells going to sing?

He sucks, man.

He's got a putrid voice.

Don't tell Wells I said that

about his voice.

You know what's interesting?

How Charlie Watts beefed up

the Bo Diddley on Not Fade Away.

Like...

He brought it front and center like

in Bo Diddley itself

rather than Buddy Holly.

Two chords. And no changes.

It's like percussion.

# Bo Diddley bought his babe

a diamond ring

# If that diamond ring don't shine

# He gonna take it to a private eye

# If that private eye can't see

# He'd better not take the ring from me

# Mojo come to my house,

ya black cat bone

# Take my baby away from home

# Up in that fo' door, where you been?

# Up your house and gone again

# Bo Diddley, Bo Diddley,

have you heard?

# My pretty baby said

she wasn't for it

We sat around for

two damn months

waiting for that battle of Anzio.

See, them Jerrys, they had us

pinned down with those 88's.

You're such a retarded driver.

That lieutenant in Italy, he told us,

he said,

"Any of you colored troopers

"tamper with these

local women,

"you gonna be hung

on the spot."

I must have got the clap

from all that clapping I was doing

when the generals passed by

in their command car.

Anyway, you're going away

to college next week.

You wanna make sure you

keep your dick powdered.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Earth people!

This is what I pay that goddamn

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