Sweet and Sour

Come Out and Play

Come Out And Play (Offspring)

Joey_bowl

Iggy_bat

Tom_v_Dude

I must admit, the active interface is terrific. The shoulders and arms were nice and soreafter the first day of enthusiastic play. As if that wasn't fun enough, it got even better when I realized what I could do with the Mii Character creator. I'd already made a few Mii of friends, so why not other familiar faces?

...er, giant marionette.

Anyone, even you right now, would know with a simple scroll down, my affection for Blossom Dearie. Her playful piano chops, peculiar phrasing and (sometimes comic) timing all do it for me. Forget those other slip-sliding divas. I prefer the purr of girl next door. So...what I am about to say is...odd, to say the least: I was creeped out TO Blossom Dearie today.

The Little Girl Giant

1 comment

Decollage
Les Balayeurs du Desert
(Streetsweepers of the Desert)

Notice I didn't say, "Creeped out BY Blossom Dearie today." I was creeped out, rather, by a  distant echo of her familiar voice in this piece. It is utterly disarming, bizarre and perfect for the shudder-inducing, engineering marvel on the screen. While an aberration of her rendition of "It Amazes Me," the heavy synthesized sound is congruent to the synthetic life depicted in the recording of this performance piece.

Forget the four horses, the apocalypse is coming in the form of a super-sized puppet.

Well, at least it is displaced. At least until next karaoke night.

Tuning up the livery has embedded mechanical sounds in my diagnostic ears, and I couldn't be happier.  Does this valve need a shim? Is the belt tension too tight on the generator? It's a symphony under there, I tell you.

Rain on the Roof

Rain On The Roof
Petty Booka ~ Singin' In The Rain

Every song on this album is about rain. PB's early use of diverse styles is apparent on this album. Hawaiian is most prevalent, but heavy swayed with tinges of folk, pop, mountain and, oddly enough, Carribean ska. Believe it!

Most people are soothed by sounds of rain. Or an ocean. Or even a freeway. Perhaps because I was a kid in the 70s/80s, at least a dozen parents of people I know told of driving their infinck around the block a few times in the back of a VW Beetle to lull them to sleep.

Nighty night, little gearhead.

I've a raging earworm going on 4 days. I can't shake it. Having gone through the tried and true eradicators to no avail, I am seeking a remedy. What is the perfect earworm eradicator?

More Than A Feeling

More Than A Feeling
Boston ~ Boston

This song has been looping in the back of my head for days now.

Strategy 1: Replace.
I've tried supplanting it with something as catchy, but more forgettable/familiar/easy to shake. Not even Journey is working here.

Strategy 2: Blow Out.
I've tried blowing it out with mass quantities of hardcore punk and old school funk. No dice. David Yow beats it into submission with a mike and beer bottle, only to have it stagger back. Even Zapp with their mad vocoder and clap machine has met their match.

Strategy 3: Reflection/Deflection
Something with a narrative or concept that overrides the melody. Louvin Bros. might work, but I don't want to kill someone or get baptized today. Something inocuous like "Red Barchetta" or "Maybelline" would get me thinking about old cars...cars rock...finely tuned...engines like music...DANG! Having failed each one has brought me to:

Strategy 4: Bombardment
Accept that which we cannot change. Repeat until it blends into the background and is unheard any more. I've tried this in three sessions for a total of two hours the first day. Three hours straight while polishing/detailing the car. It nearly worked, though not quite there. All signs reluctantly, desperately point to:

Strategy 5: Karaoke
The final stage. The brutal purge. The only way to kill it is to kill a part of the host. Tying this track to an experience so humiliating will surely relegate it deep within the subconscious. The falsetto-induced hairline fractures in the dash of the Saturn hold great promise for a relatively quick four minute demise.

Oh wait, that only works when you have shame...
*More than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play...*

Best part = This $2.95 throwback also garnered me a $2 OFF coupon. Truly the gift that keeps on giving!
Thanks, Two Hookers and a Blow Job Queen!

No, I don't have one. I did, it would likely sound like this:

It's Halloween

It's Halloween
The Shaggs ~ Philosophy of the World

One of the most hideous and ghastly executions ever recorded. By execution, I mean the quick and writhing death of pitch and rhythm.

The lyrics, however, are 100% genuine, non-rebellious teenage girl. Whatever sonic felonies are committed, parole is granted for the complete and utter sincerity of nearly all of their songs. Consider that many of today's teen "pop tart" songs are actually written by guys in their 30s and you have a new appreciation for the truth of the Shaggs sentiments, however painful or inane. What better adjectives describe being a teenager than painful and inane? One need only imagine Britney writing and recording her own songs to appreciate the awkward elegance of this trio's effort.

Plus, there's a payoff at the 0:01:45 mark when naming costumes and she says "trans-Cinderallas!"
Listen and tell me if I'm lying.

No, this isn't a cryptic metaphor. Literally, the Hawk has landed in SF.  The Studebaker Hawk. I commented on an earlier post [Vox Hunt: First Set of Wheels] that there was another. This is it.

1962 Studebaker G. T. Hawk

3 comments

It's Too Good To Talk About Now

2 comments

Not actually, but it's a tune fitting for the sweet AM radio in the dash of this machine. Since most of the AM stations nowadays are rigged to spew little more than sports, Jesus and right-wing hate speech, I'll have to settle on the broadcast from my mind as we thrum up the road.

This is the very car that cemented my love of automobiles, California and, oddly enough, a stream of independent thought that's run through my family for generations. It confirmed the larger picture that different is better. Like Frost's poem The Road Less Traveled, only for gearheads.

Frost & French

This car belonged to my aunt for decades. She bought it used in 1970 at Frost and French, a Los Angeles Studebaker dealer who continued to service and sell Studebakers well after production ceased in 1966. The original license plate frames were still with the car! She loved this car and maintained it impeccably. My earliest memories include her picking us up at LAX every 5 years when my family saved enough to visit California. She was a sweet midwestern gal who arrived in Los Angeles the day before JFK was assassinated. As the country was changed from that day forward, so was she. Ever caring, she also remained a realist. As children, we loved her brash nature with a vocabulary to make San Pedro blush. Her opinions, right or wrong are always strong, on any topic. I will always associate this Hawk with fond memories of my aunt and visits to California. I am proud to be its custodian.

My parents and grandparents always favored independent marques, opting for the specialized virtues of niche manufacturers. Studebakers favored a less ostentatious, more elegant style, coupled with robust engineering, durability and fuel economy.

Their preference for things independent and genuine formed a lifelong calling to do things differently and seek individuality in myself and others. This social philosophy, while not always prosperous, has spared me many embarrassment of ever joining a frat or wearing bell bottoms - two equally offensive degrees of lameness. Additionally, it has rewarded me with very interesting company at every turn.

Here's a suh-wheet video by the Sadies, animating great caricatures of the band with "Rat Fink" and other hot rod monsters from customizer/artist, Ed "Big Daddy" Roth. It's like GorillaZ on homemade hooch - Friggin' RAD!!

The Sadies - 'The Horseshoe' Rat Fink video

The Horseshoe
The Sadies ~ 'Tales of the Rat Fink' DVD

Mike Roberts' drawings and animation in this video are quite masterful, capturing the raw irreverence of Kustom Kar Kulture. The jalopies are period correct, right down to the raised stance, transverse springs and dry-lakes tall-n-skinny rubber.

The echoing rockabilly sound complimented by the sweet honky-tonk piano fits the vibe perfectly. The whole thing put together gives new meaning to rock n' roll road show.

Just about any kid growing up in the 60s/70s will remember the Roth's Hot Rod Monsters from carnival airbrush/iron-on t-shirts and hobby shop models. KRAZY, MAN!

Such is the refrain in nearly every line of this song. I had an initial aversion to posting this song title. Then I recalled that this pejorative was largely the domain of middle school (at least in the 70s) among kids who didn't know sex from a kissing booth. They usually used it to refer to someone, anyone, who thwarted their own attempts to get closer at a school dance or "go with" somebody. The best was using the term to DETER boys from being interested in her...about as effective as 'abstinence-only' sex-ed.

Cool Baby Slut

Cool Baby Slut
The Flamenco A Go Go ~ Fully Fed Freaks

I wrote before about the Streetlight $20 Challenge by the Young Ones (self-described as 2 hookers and a blow job queen). I added another 3 albums and I'm still above the $10 mark.

The  first purchase, clocking in at $3.95 is a CD release by X, with their first two albums, Los Angeles and Wild Gift.

Your Phone's Off The Hook, But You're Not

Your Phone Is Off The Hook, But Your'e Not!
X ~ Los Angeles