Anyway, bog bodies are human cadavers that have been naturally mummified in peat bogs. Are you familiar with bog bodies? I wasn’t until a few months ago when - well, I guess I’ll save that to put in minutes 1–6 of the song, I don’t want to spoil anything. If I were to release a lengthy song nobody asked for about a random topic nobody is thinking about, mine would certainly be about bog bodies. My song is called “The Bug I Swallowed on My Walk Yesterday, What Was She All About?” and the opening lines go something like, “Hey girl, you flew in my mouth, did you have dreams? / I’m coughing you out / It’s freaking people out / ‘It’s just a bug,’ I shout.” -Bridget Read, writer Above all else, it left the Cut staff with a burning question: If you were to write a 17-minute song right now, at a time when many of us are deprived of meaningful human interaction and consequently watching our sanity diminish by the day, what would your subject be?įrom the darkest depths of our brains, here are ours: What is the song like? Well, it starts off painstakingly describing the national tragedy in detail, and then turns into what Rolling Stone calls “an impressionistic, elegiac, increasingly apocalyptic journey through the through what feels like the entire Sixties and then perhaps all of 20th-century America.” Quite the undertaking, one might say. Specifically, Bob Dylan might argue that, as he released that very song around midnight last night, his first original in eight years. Which, some might argue, makes this an opportune time to put out a 17-minute-long song about the assassination of president John F. This very moment, we’re facing a worsening pandemic that has forced many of us to hunker down within the confines of our homes.
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