Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Your vote covers all facets of the performance*: vocalizing, dancinating, sexirations, and hair.
First up is the original, Roy Head. You should’ve heard of him.
Second is the Wild Welshman, Tom Jones.
WHO YA GOT?
* Obviously, we are not taking dong size into account. TJ beats all comers (hee hee) in this category, unless Huey Lewis also did a version of Treat Her Right that I don’t know about.
This is the original from 1961, sung–but not written–by Bobby “Blue” Bland.
FUN FACT: Jabo Starks on drums!
NOT-AS-FUN FACT: Love Light was written by a fellow named Joe Scott, but the thieving cracker-ass cracker who owned the studio stole half the credit.
THROW YO PANTIES AT THE STAGE!
Stop that.
From ’69, and whoever is playing the wikka-wakka guitar on the right should be given a state pension and a comfortable dacha by the Black Sea.
Any votes for the Killer? Not mine, and it’s all due to that damnable acoustic guitar in the left channel. I’ll make you a deal, The Universe: keep your strummed acoustic guitars out of my soul music, and I won’t slather any greasy-ass B3 organ on your folk tunes.
NOT-FUN-AT-ALL FACT: Jerry Lee Lewis has murdered at least one of his wives.
There’s that grease I was talking about. 1972 from the hardest working band in Michigan.
FUN SHIBBOLETH: If you pronounce it Duh-TROIT instead of DEE-troit, then you’re a cop.
The wild, shirtless lyrics of Mark Farner! The bong-rattling bass of Mel Schacher! The competent drum work of Don Brewer!
FUNK FACT: Seven minutes long, but it didn’t need to be.
This rendition hit #1 in Japan.
FUJI FACT: The Japanese have utter shit taste in everything but seafood.
Also, some semi-defunct choogly-type band covered the tune once or twice, but I can’t find any recordings.
Hey, John Mayer. You should’ve taken your Shrinky-Dink out of the oven sooner. I think you burned it.
“This is Tom Jones.”
No, boring novels are shaped differently.
“The singer.”
The Thunderball?
“The one and only.”
Wow, cool. Hey, John?
“Don’t.”
John?
“Shut the fuck up, please.”
Johnny?
…
“I’m not asking to see his dick.”
ASK TO SEE HIS DICK.
“No.”
It’s not gay.
“That’s not why I won’t do it. We’re at a bar.”
People take their dicks out in bars all the time.
“Not gonna happen.”
Follow him into the bathroom.
“This is why no one talks to you.”
Take a Snapchat with Tom Jones’ dick, John Mayer.
“Do you want to talk about y shirt, or do you want to talk about Tom Jones’ dick?”
The second thing.
“We’re done.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4kVUIcBOpA
I never thought it was possible to wear your clothes tighter than Tina Turner, but Tom Jones figured it out. (If his shirt was yellow, he would be cosplaying as Luke Cage, but with more potato salad.)
STILL not smiling and bonered-up? How about a smoking Lovelight from ’69 with allllll the sexy, children?
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYmdqVaRZok&w=420&h=315]
Sure, there’s no box-back nitties and no one’s on a four-day creep and not one shoulder gets reached on over, but…c’mon now. You don’t like this, you ain’t human.
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