30 September 2011
27 September 2011
Tuesday's Fortune: 27 September 2011
23 September 2011
Something 4 The Weekend # 220
21 September 2011
It's The End Of R.E.M. As We Know It (And I Feel Old)
REM were my absolute favorite band from 1983 to 1995. After drummer Bill Berry retired to rest his brain and do some farming, REM were never quite the same to me. I still followed the band, of course - bought all the albums, and even saw them one last time in 1999 on the Up Tour, but without Bill Berry, well, I guess in some ways, REM broke up, in my mind, back in the summer of 1995.
Fun Fact: My Halloween costume in 1987 was "Bill Berry". Essentially I just glued two swatches of "fun fur" over my eyebrows to approximate the magnificence of Berry's eyebrows. Somewhere out there a VHS tape might still exist that shows me saying nothing but "Hi, I'm Bill Berry" about three dozen times at various moments throughout the night.
REM was my favorite band because their music sounded like a true and real democracy. What I mean is that their songs never sounded like "a Stipe song" or a "Buck song". All four of those guys brought something unique to every song, and in doing so, no band before or since has sounded quite like REM. "All Songs Berry Buck Mills Stipe" indeed.
Fun Theory: People with big eyebrows tend to be the most interesting people you're going to meet in this life.
See, the thing is - REM were a great band to get high to. Far and away my favorite band to get high to.
They were also a great band to drive to, and guess what! Back then, in the 1980's, my buddies and I used to do alot of "buzz runs", which was nothing more than driving around out in dairyland, passing around a pipe and cranking tunes. Most of the time it was my car, a muscled 1973 Chevy Nova. Most of the time, we ended up parked out at Rabbit Ridge, our secret party spot at the end of a very long fire road. We partied out there dozens, maybe hundreds of times, and we never once encountered a cop.
One summer we grew our own weed out there. "Gardening At Night", indeed. (It wasn't very good weed.)
Anyways, I could probably dedicate a blog to REM alone, but I think we all know exactly how little writing I actually do, so...
RIP, REM. No band will ever matter more to me, for so many reasons I will probably never share. Thank you.
20 September 2011
Tuesday's Fortune: 20 September 2011
17 September 2011
Maneuver Roy Clark Sideways, Right There Between Felix & Oscar
Of course, when I think about country guitarists, I always think first of Roy Clark. Here he destroys a Flamenco tune called "Malaguena", which became perhaps his signature tune, in the same way "Sugarfoot Rag" was Junior Brown's calling card.
What makes this performance even more amazing is that he's playing a steel-stringed guitar when this song calls for nylon strings, a much more pliant and forgiving material.
And of course what seals the deal is that this from an episode of The Odd Couple.
Sideways Sugarfoot Maneuver
16 September 2011
Something 4 The Weekend # 219
13 September 2011
Tuesday's Fortune: 13 September 2011
09 September 2011
Something 4 The Weekend # 218
We all know what this Sunday is all about, right?
I'm not a fan of nationalism, so my thoughts and feelings about the events of 9-11-01, and our rememberance of the day on this 10th anniversary, are not very deep or involved. Which means this Sunday I'll be drinking Kentucky bourbon, smoking SW Sconnie weed, watching football, monitoring my fantasy teams, and perhaps doing things like absent-mindedly drawing comic strip stuff, or finally getting around to reading Portnoy's Complaint. At some point I'll probably order a 16" Pestoral from Roman Candle Pizza, and if my fantasy teams do well, and if I actually start reading Portnoy's Complaint, I might masturbate sometime in the evening.
My biggest hope for Sunday is that I hear bits of Lee Greenwood's "Proud To Be An American" no more than three times that day. My plan is to mute the TV and crank Fucked Up, or some such loud and rollicking music combo of that sort.
So yeah, this is another solipsistic blog entry, making a national tragedy all about me...
But what would you have me write? That I'm not a fan of nationalism? That I believe our current financial problems can be partially tied to the events of 9-11? That I'm not a 9-11 truther but I still don't understand how the damage at the Pentagon was done by a passenger jet airliner and not a missile? That we retaliated in the wrong country for reasons other than retaliation?
You don't want or need my opinions about nationalism, fundamentalism, war, death, the Bush Administration, the Obama Administration, or the politics of oil. Of course, you didn't want or need to know I'm probably going to pleasure myself Sunday evening, but here we are.
Information is not knowledge, babycakes.
I suppose the blog post I should have written here and now would have posited the thought that when I think about New York City, I think of maybe eight people - Woody Allen, Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson, Gregory Corso, and the Talking Heads.
And then I could have gone on to write about how Anderson's song "O Superman" appeared to be a bit prescient in light of the events of 9-11, and somehow brought it around to this particular song you're hopefully listening to right now.
But I didn't do that, did I?
See, I've been hesitant to read Portnoy's Complaint because I think I'm too old to really truly enjoy it. It's like The Basketball Diaries, or Catcher In The Rye, which were scriptures to me when I was 17, but not so much with subsequent readings. From what I know of Roth's book, I fear the same might be true - that it's a book I probably should have read when I was 28. I guess I'll find out.