And then you have songs that are just too damn fast.
Paint It Black
Tag: ek humor
Aug 20 2012
No Dancing III
Aug 19 2012
No Dancing II
The stutter steps in the middle disqualify this one and I think the rush is just a little too intense for some people.
Kashmir
Aug 18 2012
No Dancing
I think I’ve mentioned that I had a life as a semi-professional DJ, not that I didn’t charge but I didn’t quit my day job either. I was usually partnered with my buddy who had a very extensive CD collection and some high end hardware to play it on. We mostly did Club Mixers and Receptions and it can be a lot of fun if people are into the music.
Among the things I learned is that there are many excellent songs that are either impossible to dance to or that no one will dance to because they’re not familiar. This is why we still have the Chicken Dance even though everyone hates it.
Middle schoolers are a particularly tough audience because if it hasn’t been on Radio Disney 100 times today you might as well be playing a waltz.
Anyway I thought I’d share some of the stuff that I liked that but could never use. The problem with Soft Parade is that nobody able to move anymore has ever heard of Jim Morrison and it’s got tempo changes (Paradise by the Dashboard Light on the other hand is a sure hit and I hope I never hear it again).
Soft Parade
Jul 11 2012
What A Great Idea!
An innovation in free speech. I know I’d much rather watch advertisements than most ‘entertainment’ programming.
American Idol. Case closed.
May 17 2012
I Wanna Go Back To Dixie
Well, what I like to do on formal occasions like this is to take some of the various types of songs that we all know and presumably love, and, as it were, to kick them when they’re down.
I find if you take the various popular song forms to their logical extremes, you can arrive at almost anything from the ridiculous to the obscene, or — as they say in New York — sophisticated.
I’d like to illustrate with several hundred examples for you this evening, first of all, the southern type song about the wonders of the American South. but it’s always seemed to me that most of these songs don’t go far enough. the following song, on the other hand, goes too far. It’s called I Wanna Go Back To Dixie.
Take me back to dear ol’ Dixie,
That’s the only li’l ol’ place for li’l ol’ me.
Ol’ times there are not forgotten,
Whuppin’ slaves and sellin’ cotton,
And waitin’ for the Robert E. Lee.
(It was never there on time.)
I’ll go back to the Swanee,
Where Pellagra makes you scrawny,
And the Jasmine and the tear gas smell just fine.
I really am a-fixin’
To go back where there’s no mixin’
Down below that Mason-Dixon line.
Oh, poll tax, how I love ya, how I love ya,
My dear old poll tax.
Won’tcha come with me to alabammy,
Back to the arms of my dear ol’ mammy,
Her cookin’s lousy and her hands are clammy,
But what the hell, it’s home.
Yes, for paradise the southland is my nominee.
Jes’ give me a ham hock and a grit of hominy.
I want to start relaxin’
Down in Birmingham or Jackson
When we’re having fun why no one interferes
I wanna talk with southern gentlemen
And put my white sheet on again,
I ain’t seen one good lynchin’ in years.
The land of the boll weevil,
Where the laws are medieval,
Is callin’ me to come and nevermore roam.
I wanna go back to the southland,
That “y’all” and “shet-ma-mouth” land,
Be it ever so decadent,
There’s no place like home.
May 16 2012
The Wild West Is Where I Want To Be
May 06 2012
Little League
Being ferociously uncoordinated I’ve never been much at team sports and still less at those that require skill.
I’ve always liked baseball though and it looks like it would be fun to play but I wouldn’t know.
When I was quite young I went to the ball fields behind my elementary school to try out for Little League. I was hopeless of course, but they did take almost everybody and while I couldn’t hit even if the ball were perched on a tee, I could throw after a fashion and might occasionally catch one if it was carefully placed.
Alas my dreams of diamond greatness were not to be. After failing miserably at everything else they sent me out in the field to see if I could stop grounders (almost) and shag flies.
The coach hit me a towering shot and mirabile dictu it somehow ended up in my glove.
I am convinced to this day that I would have been a bench warmer if I just hadn’t looked so surprised.
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