- #WARREN ZEVON DAVID LETTERMAN ENJOY EVERY SANDWICH MOVIE#
- #WARREN ZEVON DAVID LETTERMAN ENJOY EVERY SANDWICH SERIES#
Roland is betrayed and murdered by a fellow mercenary, Van Owen, who blows off his head.īut Roland returns as the phantom 'headless Thompson gunner' and gets his revenge when he catches Van Owen in a Mombasa bar and guns him down. We never discover what becomes of the desperate brat!Įxcitable Boy also featured the sombre 'Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner', a song about a mercenary embroiled in the 'Congo war' who earns a reputation as the greatest assassin, an accolade that attracts the attention of the CIA. Then, the chorus: 'Send lawyers guns and money/Dad get me out of this…'.
#WARREN ZEVON DAVID LETTERMAN ENJOY EVERY SANDWICH MOVIE#
'I was gambling in Havana/I took a little risk…' That's the voice-over intro to a fabulous movie if ever there was one. Who is this guy? What's he really up to? Who's after him now he's crossed the diplomatic line and transgressed? We never find out because we're already pitched headlong into the next verse. 'How was I to know/She was with the Russians too.' Uh-oh, now we're in trouble. 'I went home with the waitress/The way I always do', it begins, casually and unapologetically macho and yet frayed at the edges.
#WARREN ZEVON DAVID LETTERMAN ENJOY EVERY SANDWICH SERIES#
A track on his third and most almost-famous album, 1978's Excitable Boy on David Geffen's Asylum label, it's as stunning as a series of screenplays and as economical as a Hemingway short story. Where to start? 'Lawyers, Guns And Money' is as good an embarkation point as any. And he could write songs that others would die for. He was gifted, handsome, raffish, well-read, intelligent and musically splendid – a ladies man not especially good to the ladies. He was one of those artists whose lifestyle was both fuelling and simultaneously destroying his talent, and his contemporaries would stand back and watch in awe as he set the outlaw standards which they'd then water down and partially emulate to further their own credibility as renegades. Truth be told, he was dissolute: a drinker, drug-taker and hell-raiser on an epic scale. Zevon was what we call a 'songwriters' songwriter' and a critics' darling, which is a polite way of saying he was brilliant but not many people bought his records. Diagnosed with a pleural mesothelioma, a rare form of lung cancer, and using what remained of his exhausting time to record The Wind, a final LP and what would be his goodbye to the world, the 56-year-old delivered an off-the-cuff line fit for one of his songs. Famous last words, or advice from the knowingly soon-to-be deceased, are usually offered up with at least a modicum of deep philosophical profundity – sometimes religious, sometimes self-pitying, sometimes peaceful and sometimes panicked, but invariably they are long premeditated and polished for posterity.īut when David Letterman invited his friend Warren Zevon to guest on the Tonight Show back on the 30th of October 2002 and asked the singer, who'd just been given a few short months to live, if, facing his own mortality, there was something he understood now that he didn't before, Zevon hesitated briefly, kind of shrugged, then said, 'Just how much you're supposed to enjoy every sandwich'. Steve Sutherland listens to the 1980 live album by the American rock singer/songwriter, now in a deluxe vinyl set with extras, and recalls some of its cadaverous lyricsĮnjoy every sandwich.' It was certainly weird as pay-off lines go, but somehow perfect.