“In Middle America men are awakening. Like awkward and untrained boys we begin to turn toward maturity and with our awakening we hunger for song. But in our towns and fields there are few memory haunted places. Here we stand in roaring city streets, on steaming coal heaps, in the shadow of factories from which come only the grinding roar of machines. We do not sing but mutter in the darkness. Our lips are cracked with dust and with the heat of furnaces. We but mutter and feel our way toward the promise of song.” MenWayFeelsAmericaSongTurnsMemoriesCitiesBoysDarknessStreetsMiddleFieldsPromiseShadowMachinesTownsLipsHungerAwakeningDustMaturityHeatFactoriesAwkwardCoalCrackedRoaringFurnacesOur TownCity StreetsMiddle America Author:Sherwood Anderson
“Port Talbot is a steel town, where everything is covered with gray iron ore dust. Even the beach is completely littered with dust, it's just black. The sun was setting, and it was quite beautiful. The contrast was extraordinary, I had this image of a guy sitting there on this dingy beach with a portable radio, tuning in these strange Latin escapist songs like 'Brazil.' The music transported him somehow and made his world less gray.” WorldMadeBeautifulGuySongBlackSunStrangeSittingTownsExtraordinaryRadioSettingSettingsDustBeachIronLatinCoveredGrayContrastSteelPortBrazilTuningEscapistsIron Ore Author:Terry Gilliam