GOING OFF THE RAILS

You ever have one of those days where you wanted to grab someone by the lapels and just yell in their face “Be less crazy!”?

But (A) they don't have lapels, and/or (B) it wouldn't work?

Well, yeah, that was my Monday.

But it was balanced out by Sebastian telling me after dinner that he wanted to be a dad someday so that he could have “minions.”

Nothing crazy about that...

WHITE ROSE

A friend made me a couple of mix CDs, and disc one starts with Portland, Oregon by Loretta Lynn with Jack White.

These guys are like peanut butter and chocolate. That is, two great tastes that taste great together...

SAVE THE WHALES

I can see myself having the same sort of relationship with Bitte Orca that I had with Ships.

That is, initial arms-length admiration mixed with annoyance, followed a year or so later by devoted obsession.

Bitte Orca even has its own second-song line that's currently annoying the fuck out of me (a la “When life's got your goat now/By his tail and by his goat throat...” from Ships): “And what hits the spot, yeah, like Gatorade?”

Stop product placement in indie rock now, bitches.

If you tolerate this, your Toys R Us kids will be next...

HUSH HUSH

We have all at one point or another made an album purchase that in the light of time and reflection fills us with shamebarassment.

But, brother/sister, you'd be hard pressed to top the moment back in 1983 when I plunked down $5.99 + tax for a cassette copy of White Feathers by Kajagoogoo...

BACK TO THE GARDEN

Pictures of old hippies. That is all.

(I'll be back from vacation next week. In the meantime, watch out for the brown acid.)

THREE FEET HIGH AND RISING

The final of my four Classic Rock downloads from last week was Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me by Elton John.

From 1973 through 1975, Elton released three albums in quick succession: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Caribou, and Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.

And apparently, Elton worked closely with England's National Health to have the covers designed by dangerous mental patients.

I'm telling you, that Caribou cover alone is going to give me cold-sweat nightmares for sure...

DON'T LOSE THAT NUMBER

My third Classic Rock purchase was My Old School by Steely Dan.

Back when I was a wee lad, I got a kick out of the way they used the words “oleanders” and “Guadalajara.” Had no idea until years later that the song retold events surrounding a pot bust at Bard College.

Even more obscure than the narrative was that opening line: “I remember the 35 sweet goodbyes...”

I'll give you a minute.

(Whistle whistle)

Still nothing?

How about if I told you that the original number in the lyric was 34.5, but they changed it because 34.5 didn't scan well?

(Whistle whistle)

OK, let's work with those numbers a bit. 35 is half of 70. And 34.5 is half of... 69.

So the “35 sweet goodbyes” is meant to represent half of 69, or more specifically, a blow job.

Just in case you forgot that Steely Dan were named after a dildo.

Randy bunch, that...

THE ROYAL SCAM

I almost bought two ELO songs, but I couldn't decide. Turn to Stone? Telephone Line? Sweet Talkin' Woman?

Damn you, Jeff Lynne.

So I did the next best thing, and split the difference: Somebody to Love, by Queen.

What I like about this is that it has moments of restraint. Sure, there's all that patented scaramouching going on, and it sounds like Freddie's voice box falls down a flight of stairs toward the end, but there are parts where genuine human emotion appears to be on display. Not too many, of course, because who comes to Queen for that?

Oh, and the guitar solo sounds like it's played by an astrophysicist. Cash!

I'M TAKING A DIVE

Increased my Classic Rock playlist by four songs last night, the first of which was Livin' Thing by ELO.

Now, the things that make ELO so absurd when considered in our dotage are the very livin' things that make them awesome when we're 10. The slipping and sliding vocals, the rhythmic strings, the echoes echoes echoes.

You know, the whole electric light orchestration of it all.

Well, you can bet that I sat straight back down in my seat when Livin' Thing came on over the credits to Boogie Nights. Wouldn't leave the damn theater until it was over...

BLACK CAT

I've been waiting forever for-ever-ever forever to see Broadcast in concert.

And now they're coming in October, with Atlas Sound no less, who was a superhero when he opened for Stereolab last year.

I left my browser on the Black Cat site for a week, waiting to buy tickets when they went on sale.

But in the interim I read that Broadcast were now a duo, and that the show would be "stripped down." Well dammit, I want my Broadcast stripped up.

I haven't bought tickets yet-- I think I'll wait to hear some reports when the tour starts...