I forgot George Michael was dead, too, when I pulled this up and now I just wanna get shitty drunk and break strangers’ windows.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Category: Uncategorized (Page 218 of 1031)
Tough to steal the show when James Brown and Ray Charles are on the lineup, but Aretha managed.
BONUS: Matt “Guitar” Murphy is such a terrible actor that it’s adorable.
And there won’t be another one ever again. Live from the Sacred Store.
(Featuring an intro from Bill Graham, King Curtis on sax, Billy Preston on keys, and Bernard Purdie on drums. And Brother Ray, too.)
My father said he was at Woodstock, but he also said he was at Game 5 of the ’69 World Series where the Mets beat the Orioles; my dad said a lot of things.
OR
This is one of not-very-many photos of the Dead playing Ol’ Man Yazgur’s farm on this date 49 years ago, and holy shit is next year’s 50th anniversary gonna be annoying. Get ready for a lot of interviews with Country Joe and/or the Fish.
OR
Woodstock wasn’t Curveball. There was no glamping section, as the portmanteau had not yet been invented, nor was there a free-form radio station broadcasting from the site over multiple media. No webcast, ATMs, sculpture gardens, or pop-up general stores. Also, there was no water, food, or medical staff. It was just a fucking field and no one was in charge and it’s astonishing that everyone didn’t die of cholera. The past was terrible.
OR
“Billy.”
OR
The problems began with the stage. The production crew had built a circular contraption; instead of having to strike and reset the gear in between each band, one could play out front with the roadies set up the next group backstage. When it came time to switch acts, the stage would rotate 180 degrees. Repeat until Jimi Hendrix.
Except, of course, the Grateful Dead brought every amplifier in the world and the back half of the round stage sunk two feet into the mud. Which meant the production crew had to strike and reset the gear. This resulted in a delay of around an hour.
Then came the rain, which wouldn’t have been such a hassle had most of the band not had electrical equipment strapped to their chests. Or literally anything been grounded properly.
And the wind, which–again–wouldn’t have been a big deal had the Dead not strung up a giant sheet behind them for the light show. A giant sheet, Enthusiasts will realize, is also called a “sail.” The stage threatened to tip over before Parish and Ramrod clambered up, Captain Blood-like, to shred the canvas with their knives.
Also, their sound man was the Most Famous Drug Dealer In America, so they were way too fucking high.
OR
Speaking of knives: What the fuck, Mickey?
OR
I’d link their set, but they played Lovelight for 45 minutes and I’m not rewarding that behavior. 45-minute Dark Star? Yes, please. 45-minute Other One? This gives the Deadhead a boner. 45-minute Lovelight? Why do you hate America?
Here’s the only worthwhile performance from that muddy self-suck:
Hey, Trixie. Whatcha doing?
“Having fun!”
You are possibly the worst liar in the Western Hemisphere.
“No, no. Loving this.”
White-knuckling it a bit, huh?
“Lemme ask you a question.”
Shoot.
“Your dad’s dead, right?”
Yup.
“Is there a radio station dedicated to reminding you of the fact once a year?”
No.
“Gotta walk around and see his face on tee-shirts?”
Also no.
“You see where I’m coming from?”
Little bit. You didn’t have to go to this, y’know.
“Eh. Bill asked.”
“Have either of you heard of the Deccan Flats? Vast plain of volcanoes in India. Might have killed the dinosaurs, might not have. Tough to know with volcanoes. Mysterious geological feature. Canyons, you can figure them out. But a volcano will keep her secrets within her no matter the interlocutor.”
Hey, Bill.
“I learned a word today!”
Interlocutor?
“How’d you guess?”
Oh, noes.
“Dude, I’m in no mood for your shit right now.”
Did you throw away your toothbrush? The burglar most likely stuck it up his ass.
“Dude.”
And you need to throw away any doughnuts you might have.
“Dude.”
Because he most likely hung them on his dick. That happens all the time.
“It doesn’t. It’s an urban legend, and I have no patience for you at the moment.”
“Fuckers.”
I’m sorry, bro. What’d they get?
“Bunch of watches.”
The real ones or the fakes?
“I don’t own any fake watches.”
You are fake watch.
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
Wow, this burglary has made you emotional.
“You’re a shit-man. You’re just made entirely of shit.”
What else did they steal?
“My necklace with the Big Lebowski on it.”
This one?
“Yeah.”
Burglar did you a favor.
“Dude, that was a one-of-a-kind.”
Of course it was. You were the only one dumb enough to buy it.
“It’s a Ben the Baller!”
You have the most embarrassing set of friends.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Is he saved in your phone as “Ben” or “Mr. the Baller?”
“I think we’re about done.”
Did they get any toppermosts?
“No. They probably didn’t recognize how much they’re worth.”
No one ever does.
“But…uh…they got something else.”
It’s not a tape of you saying the N-word. That wasn’t a secret.
“No, not that. Other tapes.”
Oooooohhhhh.
“Yeah.”
…
This is so good for you.
“What? It’s terrible for me!”
Were you fucking strong?
“What?
#FUCKSTRONG?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sex tapes aren’t bad any more. People launch their careers from them.
“I don’t need to launch my career. I have a very successful career.”
Successful.
“Please go away.”
Sure. I’ll go away.
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Saw that coming.”
Oh, yeah.
…
“Whaaaaaat?”
“Little Potato!”
“Ah, shit.”
“You get burgerfied?”
“Burglarized.”
“The Buggles?”
“My house got broken into and some shit got stolen.”
“Not Lebowski necklace!?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Ben the Baller original!”
“I know!”
“Is no acceptable, Hot Dog Dick–”
“You need to settle on one nickname for me.”
“–and Kim Jong Un on case.”
“What? No. Do not go on the case!”
“I solve. In meantime, I send you delicacies from Only Korea.”
“What the hell are Only Korean delicacies?”
“Single-serving haddock kimchi.”
“Ugh!”
“Is delicious. Father invent haddock.”
“Kim, I have things to do.”
“You go Curveball?”
“I’m gonna hang up.”
“Trey on fire lately.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
“Any way you can dissuade him from helping me solve the case?”
Even if I could, I wouldn’t.
“That’s what I guessed.”
I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE SHMERSH AT CANNONBALL!
Holy shit, I have a new favorite band.
Mott The Hoople + Titus Andronicus + Peter Gabriel-era Genesis?
Kentucky Prog rock at its finest.
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