January 2016 continued its wholesale slaughter of famous musicians and actors by claiming the Eagles’ Glen Frey. January 2016, what are you doing? January 2016, stahp.
Anyway. One of my friends posted this absolutely incredible video of a group called Cubanos Acapella singing Hotel California. And if you haven’t heard this, you need to set aside some time and a quiet space and listen. I was impressed when Jimmy and the Wazoo Peach Pitters managed to do Helter Skelter acapella,* but damn.
Took me a while to collect my jaw from the floor after that.
I have a particular fondness for this song. I have memories of my dad trying to explain it to me. I was probably about 9 or 10, and he was introducing me to his generation’s music, and we were discovering we had a mutual fondness for much of it. But of course, I was super-young, and had no idea what the 70s even were, much less what young adults had done with them, so most of this song went wooshing right over my head despite his patient explanations. And I never asked him to clear up some of the lingering mysteries for me: I had no idea why ghosts had anything to do with wine, or why a spirit might have left the hotel in 1969, never to return. Dad did a reasonable job trying to explain what “of our own device” meant, but it was still a pretty vague concept. I am only just now finding out he fibbed when he said colitas was a type of flower (buds, Dad, very funny). But we both had fun singing it together, and ultimately that was the only thing that mattered. Continue reading “A Magnificent Acapella Version of Hotel California”
A couple days ago, I asked you for just one song – and my, did you ever respond! Some of you couldn’t stop at just one song. (I get it, I do, it’s really hard to pick a single one.)
I’ve made a playlist of your songs. For those who recommended more than one, I chose your first song. It makes for a charmingly eclectic music mix!
We’ve all got a special song that we love, yeah? That song that always gets you right in the feels, or makes your feet tap, or that you would shout to the world if you could. Let’s share a song, then! One of my Facebook friends posted this, and it struck me as completely awesome: Give me one song that means a lot to you, and I’ll listen to it. It can be anything. It can be serious or corny or musically complex or dead simple. It can be uplifting or despairing or anything in between. It can be absolutely any genre at all. It doesn’t even have to be your favorite song of all time (like that’s so easy to pick!). Just a song that you love.
So here’s mine:
There you go. Now you know a song that I love, the first that springs to mind when someone asks me for just one song. What’s yours?
Happy Christmas Eve, my darlings! For those of you celebrating some form of midwinter shenanigans or just grateful you’ve got some time off work, I wish you merry festivities. For those of you bah humbugging your way through the next few days, or having to deal with things that make this season less than joyful, you have my sympathies.
I’m deep in re-plotting The Novel, so I won’t be around much unless my characters decide we need a very silly midwinter story. But I did get you something! Of course I did. I love you and wouldn’t leave you with nothing. Here is absolutely the best ever version of the Nutcracker, via my friend Merideth, who always finds the neatest things. It’s okay if you don’t like ballet or classical music. That isn’t really the point. The point is, we can create something new and funny and fabulous when we mix up sophisticated old stuff with delightfully talented modern people. I present to you the most excellent results when you combine dancers Cyrus “Glitch” Spencer, JR Tight Eyex, and James Derrick with the California Philharmonic Orchestra and some Tchaikovsky. Continue reading “A Nutcracker Guaranteed to Crack You – Up”
Do you like avant garde music with saxophone and drums? Would you like to enjoy a night out with my musician housemate? Excellent! He’s on tour right now, so you have a chance to see him play! And yes, that means that I’m about to reveal who the mysterious N is: Continue reading “You Have the Good Luck to See Bad Luck in These Select Cities”
Come for the comedic song, stay for the unexpected geology at the end of the post.
Trebuchet shared a video that captures the very essence of the cities of the Great State of Washington, and explains what happened when a giant mutant reptile wandered through. Thankfully, the damage had been repaired by the time I came here to live. Alas, they preserved the character of those cities – which is rather unfortunate in some cases.
Continue reading “The Absolutely True History of Godzilla in Washington State, Set to Music”
I’m not quite sure why I decided to torture myself, but I decided to look up some videos of a few of my favorite songs from middle school. The music is, of course, uber-cheesey, although I will argue that the voices are good. But dear Glod, the fashion. How did we get through the hairspray and pancake makeup and hideous clothes in order to engage in intimate activities? How did we ever find this crap attractive? Aaaagh.
Before you go on, I must warn you… it’s not pretty.
Continue reading “Please Let the 80s Never Return”
So, remember that conversation about country music we had a while back? It got me to recalling my country music days, which began with my parents and lasted until I got introduced to heavy metal. I don’t listen to much anymore, but after that post and the discussion around it, I began trying to recall the names of female country singers I’d loved. And Emmylou Harris came to mind. Continue reading “Emmylou Harris is a Feminist. Huzzah!”
Did I ever tell you that the first karaoke song I ever sang was a country song? It was. My friends and I went to a karaoke bar, where I was like, “I don’t sing karaoke but I’ll drink alcohol and cheer for you,” but then they were like, “Let’s do Dixie Chicks!” and they dragged me out to their car so we could listen to “Goodbye, Earl” ten thousand times so I would know the words. So my first karaoke experience was all about misandry*, possibly foreshadowing my current life as a feminist. I figured this event would not kill my metal cred because the Dixie Chicks had said mean things about George Warmonger Bush, and also I could say my friends made me do it.
I actually used to be a country music fan before I started doing the gateway drugs of Petshop Boys, Aerosmith, and Bon Jovi. Back in the day, I owned a lot of Juice Newton and George Strait albums, and loved Alabama and the Oak Ridge Boys, and thanks to David Allan Coe and my own research, I knew that a country song was not perfect unless it included mama, trains, trucks, prison, or getting drunk. I first learned about tequila from Shelly West, although I couldn’t figure out who Jose Cuervo was. I ended up thinking he must be the cowboy she woke up next to, and she just forgot his name. Yes, I was a somewhat sheltered child. Or possibly my parents were too busy laughing to explain… Continue reading “Bro Country”