“The ambiguously desirable New York Ghost,” as the eccentric PDF blog is dubbing itself this month, reviews what they imagine to be the soundtrack to Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Express. Only, they haven’t seen the movie. And, Ghost, hate to break it to you, but I saw the movie the other night and your ten-song tracklist prediction is 0 for 10.

Still, there is something kinda cool about such preemptive critical thought. Here’s the Ghost on track one:

1. Talking Heads, ‘Born Under Punches’ (as by a blind Sikh beggar). Train tracks. Dust. Oppressive sunlight. Sublimely penurious farmers wash garments in a dying creek. An eyeless supplicant sits cross-legged beside the train tracks, wheezing like a set of antique billows, moaning: ‘Take a look at these hands/Take a look at these hands/The hand speaks/The hand of a government man.’

A train approaches. The blind man is unmoved. It rushes by, drowning out his dirge.

Sounds of attractive young white men arguing.

As train passes the beggar, sound of fist hitting face.

Pair of aviator sunglasses flies out window, landing on the blind man’s face.

Shot of train exiting the scene: ‘The Darjeeling Limited.’ The blind man stands, wobbling toward the horizon, singing all the
while: ‘And the heat goes on.’

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