A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

Lennon-ism

I like Christmas. Okay, not really, but I do like one aspect of it, and that's how the music of the season offers further support for my argument that John Lennon was superior to Paul McCartney.

Exhibit A - "Happy Xmas (War is Over)"

Yoko's atonal presence is negated by Phil Spector's production and the Harlem Community Choir, and besides that the anti-war message is in keeping with the spirit of the holiday itself.

Exhibit B - "Wonderful Christmastime"

The droning synth part perfectly accompanies inspired lyrics like "The spirit's up," "The party's on," and "Ding dong ding dong ooohh." All courtesy of the guy who tried to reverse the words "Lennon McCartney" in the credits for "Why Don't We Do it in the Road?"

Unfortunate word choice

From an e-mail sent by an immediate family member who shall remain nameless:

NEIL DIAMOND IS GOD!

I don't care if he is 67, he's still got it. Two hours without a break, never missed a beat, had the audience hanging from the rafters in the AT&T Center.

I'll be he did.

Did the nooses have the U-verse logo on them, by chance?

I...actually want my MTV

I guess we've come full circle. You can finally see videos on MTV again.

Well, MTVMusic.com, that is.

This looks like a fairly recent rollout, as the number of views on a lot of the videos (over 20,000 available) is under 10. They're better quality than YouTube, as well, though there are some pretty glaring omissions (no "She Blinded Me with Science," or "Flight of Icarus," which was the only Maiden video the network played for three years). I'm not going to pat MTV on the back for finally putting videos online, but this is a pretty nifty find.

And it seems nobody sought out Megadeth's "Peace Sells" before me. "This is the news!"

Oh Dave, you magnificent now born-again douchebag.

I'll dig around in Vintage Videos for a while (sweet, "Walking in My Shoes"), at least until the network decides to replace everything with Real World marathons.

At least it wasn't Jethro Tull

She Who Shall Not Be Named and I were in Whole Foods earlier today, searching for these GFCF vanilla sandwich cookies that apparently only exist at this one store in Tampa, and this older WF employee in the act of stocking shelves started singing a familiar song:

So ya
Thought ya
Might like to
Go to the show.
To feel that warm thrill of confusion,
That space cadet glow.
I've got some bad news for you sunshine,
Pink isn't well, he stayed back at the hotel
And they sent us along as a surrogate band
We're gonna find out where you folks really stand.

I'd been waiting for a chance to make a humorous interjection the whole time, and seized my chance...

Pete: Are you planning on singing that next verse?
Whole Foods Guy: I love that song, but I'd probably get in trouble.

For those who don't know, the next line of Pink Floyd's "In the Flesh" goes

Are there any queers in the theater tonight?
Get 'em up against the wall.

No word on how he would've approached the "coon" stanza.

So that's where all the talent went

CD Baby really makes you feel good about yourself:

Your CD has been gently taken from our CD Baby shelves with sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed onto a satin pillow. A team of 50 employees inspected your CD and polished it to make sure it was in the best possible condition before mailing. Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over the crowd as he put your CD into the finest gold-lined box that money can buy.

We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of Portland waved "Bon Voyage!" to your package, on its way to you, in our private CD Baby jet on this day, Friday, September 26th.

I hope you had a wonderful time shopping at CD Baby. We sure did.
Your picture is on our wall as "Customer of the Year." We're all exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

The CD in question? "Shades of Violet" by a young woman with a decidedly familiar last name. Her music is a little more...acoustic than what I customarily listen to, but I figure if I do this maybe she'll buy my book. Whenever it comes out.

And she does a wicked cover of Joni Mitchell's "River," once you get past a few minutes of annoying interviewer:

And now, an interlude

Fuck Kid Rock.

In the mostly internet-free days since hurricane Ike used my house as a condom, I've been listening to a lot more radio. And in addition to the realization that the state of Florida is single-handedly keeping the classic rock industry alive, I've decided that Kid Rock is just about the worst human being on the planet.

I dared to hope he'd disappear after that unfortunate period in our nation's history several years ago, when legions of proto-mulletheads did the lame, early-21st century equivalent of the mosh to his soulless thud-core. That, for a number of reasons (a romance with Pam Anderson, the dunderheadedness of the American population) didn't happen. And now I learn that "All Summer Long," his newest cut from Rock N Roll Jesus that happens to sample Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" and Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama," has become his biggest hit.

Sorry, did I say "sample?" I should have said "burgle." See, sampling is the act of using a portion of a break or beat to construct a new tune, recognizable yet unto itself as a musical entity. Kid Rock, on the other hand, appropriates entire stanzas around which to drape his bland, "Jack and Diane"-esque lyrics. "All Summer Long's" entire opening is a repeat of "Werewolves," after which it invokes "Alabama," leading to a wholesale theft of that song's most famous riff. That isn't sampling, a la the Beastie Boys or Dr. Dre, that's some Vanilla Ice shit.

A lot of what we have to put up with in life is out of our control. Got a tree in my house? Fine. Sprained my ankle Labor Day weekend? Whatever. Grandmother passed away? Death is inevitable. But by god, I don;t have to put up with listening to the Motor City Moron shit up my airwaves for another second.

"It's called rocking out! - Pt. 2

Now then, the concert itself. If I had to limit myself to a one word review, that word would be "appalling."

Okay, so there was some good to be had: namely Mick Mars. The guys is 740 years old and suffering from ankylosing spondylitis, which has rendered him unable to turn his head or stand up straight (he's also shrunk from 5' 9" to 5' 3"), but the guy can still shred. If there was anything to recommend the first 3/4 of the set, it was hearing him play, whether he was rooted to his spot stage right or lurching to the front to solo.

As for everything else...let me just say that I saw Mötley Crüe in 1987 with Tim and a couple other guys. They were big back then. I mean, like, Def Leppard big (holla atcha boy, Plantersville!). Whitesnake opened, and both Heather Locklear and pre-high heel assault Tawny Kitaen were in attendance. The band themselves were also assisted on stage by the Nasty Habits, two leather-clad "backup singers" that provided eye candy to our side of the stage. Last week's show, on the other hand, reminded me of seeing KISS in 1989, when the lights in the first giant 'S' went out and they were openly heckled by those in attendance.

And I can't speak for Tim and the others, but I'm nowhere near as svelte or energetic as I was 21 years ago, and that's without the heroin snorting. The Crüe, on the other hand, are definitely the worse for two decades of wear. Vince Neil is a pudgy mosaic of bad plastic surgery, incipient hair loss, and poor lifestyle choices, Tommy Lee still talks like a stoned fratboy and is starting to resemble Jamie Farr in his old age, and all the Road Warrior fashion in the world isn't going to hide the gut on Nikki Sixx. I guess Kat Von D loves him for his mind.

What happened to Marshall stacks?

Even so, the fact that non-Mars members of the band are pushing 50 shouldn't excuse a poor performance, and I might have been more forgiving had I not seen two shows already this year featuring quinquagenarians that both vaulted into my top 10 all-time concert experiences. I was due for a letdown, and - at least in that regard - the Crüe didn't disappoint.

Right off the bat you knew there was going to be trouble. "Kickstart My Heart" was the opening song, and Neil was either unwilling or unable to sing half the words, holding his microphone out for the audience as if he paid $75 a pop to hear us sing. "Wild Side" and "Shout at the Devil" were done in similar lazy fashion, which made the microphone failure during "Don't Go Away Mad" (played about halfway through the show) that much more amusing.

"Saints of Los Angeles," from their latest album of the same name, was up next. The stage, poorly rendered here, was apparently meant to evoke a rooftop in the City of Angels. Was it the post-apocalyptic rape fantasy L.A. of "Looks That Kill?" Or perhaps the incomprehensible Chinatown of "Too Young to Fall in Love?" We may never know:

"Live Wire" followed, and I noted with no small amount of amusement that Tommy Lee's drum solo, for lack of a better phrase, hasn't improved one iota from the thrice tapped cowbell of the album version. We were also spared the fifteen minute spectacle of the elevated, upside down drum kit. I honestly think they killed that part of the set to keep Mick from spending more time on stage than absolutely necessary. I swear, at one point during Tommy's "titty cam" shenanigans (I dearly wish I was joking), Mick looked in my general direction, craned his aching skull skyward, and beseeched someone, anyone, to put him out of his misery.

Thus began a series of songs I honestly couldn't care less about: "Motherfucker of the Year," the aforementioned "Don't Go Away Mad," "Same Ol' Situation," and Primal Scream." It was around this time RTVW and I discovered the Toyota Center stopped serving alcohol at 9:30. Thus thwarted, we turned out attention to the video show accompanying the concert. Always ones for subtlety, the band entertained us with barely edited porn cut with concentration camp footage. And just so we were sure of where they (Sixx) got the idea, there were also plenty of shots of Malcolm McDowell with the eye clamps. The repeated shots of Bush giving the finger (during "Motherfucker") were a nice touch, however.

The final songs, unsurprisingly, provided the show's high points. "Looks that Kill and "Dr. Feelgood" were actually quite tight, "LTK" was especially rocking, but that's probably just because, like incontinent marathoners, they were in a hurry to finish up. And of course, no Crüe show would be complete without their sole encore, "Home Sweet Home:"

The song's annoyance factor is trebled not just by its popularity as an insufferable power ballad, but also because that dude at drum major camp in 1986 totally got all the hot ass because he could play the piano part (and yes, there was plenty of hot ass at drum major camp).

So, 13 songs. Not a lot to show for, what...nine studio albums? And nothing from the John Corabi era? Ah well, I was bound to have some missteps during my year of concert glory. Next up, the Drive-By Truckers in September.

"It's called rocking out!" - Pt. 1

Went to Mötley Crüe's cleverly named "Crüe Fest" Tuesday night - the first of many, if apparently deranged singer Vince Neil is to be believed. I attended the event with "Reality TV Wife" instead of Joni (the Metal Wife), mostly because RTVW has an in with a ticket broker and scored us the seats, which came with their own bar area (the Jack Daniels Lounge, if I'm not mistaken).

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First, we had to contend with the four opening acts at the fest, namely SIXX: A.M. (drolly referred to as "SUXX A.M." by those who referred to them at all), Trapt ("Trapped with a T," as I repeatedly stated to the annoyance of everyone around me), Papa Roach, and Buckcherry. RTVW and I don't agree on much, but we found common ground in our overwhelming lack of desire to sit through any of these performances. While debating options on our approach to the Toyota Center, we happened upon an open parking meter a block away from a bar called the BUS (two blocks from the Center). Our decision made, we went in to grab a few beers and debate when the Crüe would actually take the stage.

We were about an hour off, as it turns out.

I should digress for a moment to describe our ensembles. RTVW had, for whatever reason, decided to go with her slacks/blouse work outfit, while I elected to rock the jeans/fucking awesome Iron Maiden soccer jersey look:

Actual torso may not taper in the displayed manner

Sitting outdoors wasn't that bad for July in Houston. And for that I have to thank hurricane Dolly: you may have heaped misery upon south Texas/NE Mexico, but your outer cloud bands kept me cool while drinking, and that's what really matters.

After several beers/vodkas and much discussion about M*A*S*H-related minutiae, we decided to wander over to the Toyota Center. Security was pretty tight, which is perfectly understandable when the bulk of your audience are paunchy 40-somethings more concerned with whether the sitter is updating her MySpace page from the family PC than getting into a "rumble." Nevertheless, I allowed myself a brief frisson of nostalgia for my younger metal days, when we were hassled by "the pigs" at a Slayer concert. Happy days.

Upon arriving, RTVW went in search of food, while I scoped out our seats and got a pic of roadies striking the Papa Roach banner. Obviously we'd underestimated how long they could stretch out the "Last Resort" encore:

Killing time during a support performance goes a lot easier when you have a bar at which to seat yourself, and we could still hear strains of Buckcherry's performance drifting in from the arena, so - were we so inclined - we could've trotted out and heard instant classics like "Crazy Bitch" or "Sorry," which could go toe-to-toe with anything on Warrant's catalog for a place of honor in the Embarrassing Power Ballad Hall of Fame.

We also met a few colorful characters, including a couple guys down from Plantersville. I don't remember their names (or even if we were introduced), but one was a plumber based in Navasota, and the other was...between jobs, I think. They were metalheads from way back, however (each having graduated HS within two years of yours truly), and were only too willing to discuss their respective hellraising pasts, as well as the state of today's hard rock:

MetalHead #2: So we saw Def Leppard in San Antonio a few months ago, then drove up to Dallas to see 'em again the next night.
Pete: Did they play anything from "High 'N' Dry?"
MH #2: Uh, I don't think so. Anyway, if you ask me, the only current rock band that can come close to Leppard lyrically is Nickelback.
Pete: [chokes on beer]
MH #2: You've never heard of Nickelback?
Pete: Oh...I've heard of them.

I deflected further suspicion by remarking how often "Pour Some Sugar on Me" is played in strip clubs, which led to a studied and thoroughly exhaustive analysis on the quality of fishnet stockings in the immediate vicinity. I noted, with no little satisfaction, that my g-g-generation has few reservations about jockeying with the younger set for elite tramp status:

38-year olds, Dude.

The only other encounter of note involved an underage fellow who approached us to buy him a beer. That's not entirely accurate, for in truth he approached MetalHead #2, who immediately launched into a breakdown of his top 10 greatest teenage drinking stories. We steered him toward the bar anyway, and RTVW gently chided the kid for not knowing to approach the female in any group with such requests.

Of course, I call him a "kid" when the fucker looked/was built like Brady Quinn. I have no doubt he's a regular at the neighborhood Valero station, buying Busch tallboys for his hormonally-challenged friends with impunity. Curse your draconian one ID/one drink policy, Toyota Center.

Finally, it was time for the Crüe to take the stage. Which I'll cover in Part 2...

And they shall know us by the trail of...panties

Friend and award-winning filmmaker Don reacted to my attending both the new Indiana Jones movie and the Iron Maiden show in May by commenting it must have felt like prom was just around the corner. And while I have yet to go scrounge for Chris DeBurg's "Lady in Red" on iTunes, my attending this event will only serve to prolong my painful second adolescence:

Prepare yourself for 5 bands, one colossal show and a trail of panties from coast to coast. That's right, Mötley Crüe has just announced their massive summer tour, CRÜE FEST.

Featuring Mötley Crüe, Buckcherry, Papa Roach, SIXX: A.M., and Trapt, plus the Rock Band second stage experience, CRÜE FEST is sure to upset neighbors and blow out eardrums across the nation.

Yeah, they're sure to annoy the hell out of all those attendants working the parking garages that flank the Toyota Center. But really, it's cute that the guys still maintain that "rock and roll all nite/party ev-er-y day" façade, even as Vince heaves himself around like a blond Jon Lovitz and Mick strives to be the world's first 170-year old guitar player.

Doors open at 5:30. Looking at that lineup, I'll be showing up around 9.

UPDATE: Laanba reminds me of the upcoming Rock the Bayou fest coming Aug. 29-Sep. 1, of which I had heard rumors but - for fear of being called out on it - hadn't really checked into. Thanks a pantload, L.

I really have to hand it to whoever picked the dates for this, 'cause I can't think of a better place to spend late summer in Houston than on what is essentially a giant parking lot surrounded by a bunch of Malmsteen fans (though I'll bet those chicks who were into Slaughter 20 years ago are finally willing to talk to me).

This is one of those events that requires some serious embedded journalism...a doughty pioneer willing to devote a Labor Day weekend to sweating his ass off while listening to a parade of failures Cheyne-Stokes-ing their way through a horrible rendition of "Summertime Girls" as their paunch strains against the crusty seams of their ancient leather pants.

I'll talk to The Wife.

Maiden Voyage - Pt. 1

Heavy Metal Parking Lot Restaurant

Most of you are aware of the 1986 mini-doc Heavy Metal Parking Lot, which peeled back the mystique shrouding the world of metal to show us the cream of Amerca's youth. Shot before a Judas Priest show at the Capital Center in Largo, MD. It's a wonderful, all-too brief glimpse of Mullet Nation as it existed some 20 years ago.

My own hard rock recollections from that era are fairly numerous, though somewhat less vivid. From Cheap Trick in 1983 to Motley Crue ('87) to Slayer ('88) and many others, I hung out with more than my fair share of skinny teens with bad skin and anger management issues. To anyone who attended metal shows in the 1980s, HMPL wasn't a whimsical curiosity, it was a morbid reminder of the legions of homophobic sub-literates that populated the metal scene.

Wooderson?

These images came to mind last Thursday (5/22), when Iron Maiden's "Somewhere Back in Time" tour hit Houston. The Thing That Walks Like a Man and I were heading to Baker St. Restaurant & Pub in the swanky Waterway section of the Woodlands to meet Joni for some pre-concert beers. The two of us were both dressed in acceptable concert gear: black t-shirt and jeans/shorts, an ensemble that works for most musical events. But while we'd made a (conscious or not) decision not to be "that guy" by wearing shirts of the band we were seeing, we were definitely in the minority.

Baker St. had been taken over by the Iron Maiden F(an) C(lub) (I'm a member, but only for ticket presale purposes). For just like the Cap Center itself - demolished to make way for a mall - so too is the pre-concert parking lot experience only a distant memory. Fans wanting to get their drink on before paying $10 per Fosters in one of our nation's many fine corporate multi-purpose entertainment venues won't be welcome in the heavily patrolled parking areas. But that's okay, because the chain outlets like Baker St. that make up the larger business districts surrounding these arenas will welcome today's older, fatter metal aficionado with open arms.

At first, I felt kind of bad for folks wandering in for a random happy hour drink or an early dinner (and especially the older folks who were there for a birthday party), but the overwhelming majority of those in the bar were in their 30s, fairly well-off, and relatively docile. Many had also brought their own kids, for whom the act of attending an Iron Maiden show with Mom and Dad was probably such a lethal combination of ironic detachment and self-loathing they bled from the eyes for hours.

At least the token Ratt fan didn't appear to have any children.

Wow, my generation hasn't aged well. I suggested to a guy sitting next to us that maybe Messrs. Pearcy and DeMartini were opening for the Irons. His reply: "I fucking hope not."

All told, a full afternoon. Between trying to convince one particularly hammered "young" lady of the need to eat something before the show (she declined) and trying to convince Christine the waitress to take our extra ticket (she also declined, but only because she made the mistake of asking her manager), it was a pleasant, air-conditioned lead-in to the show itself. And nary a mullet to be found.

Next: Out Spinal Tapping Spinal Tap

Two minutes days to midnight Maiden

In less than two days' time, actually, I will be singing along to "Fear of the Dark" with TTTWLAM, Heavy Metal Wife Joni, and an attendee to be named later at the Woodlands Pavillion. And while the possibility of me being "that guy" are almost nil (I don't actually own a Maiden t-shirt), I have no idea what to wear.

Maybe I'll dig out the old argyle sweater.

Meet the new Boss

Good as the old Boss.

Saw Bruce Springsteen at the Toyota Center last night. Maybe it was because we had seats in the section with its own bar, and maybe it was because everyone around us was actually a fan (unlike when we saw him on the Rising tour in 2002), but it was a fantastic show that hit on all cylinders, and easily one of my favorite concert experiences in recent memory, if not of all time.

The setlist:

"Cadillac Ranch" - A nice rollicking opener, even if this one's probably in my secondary tier of Bruce songs.
"Radio Nowhere" - Bruce knows to stick with the more popular new stuff. Most of the crowd recognizes this one and gets into it.
"Lonesome Day" - No drop off, as they continue with one of the better tunes from The Rising
"Atlantic City" - And then...one of my all-time favorites is the fourth song in. Dallas got "Prove it All Night," I'll take this.
"Magic" - I didn't know this one right off the bat. Several people go for beers.
"Because the Night" - Bit of a surprise, but a welcome one. Please reclaim this from Natalie Merchant.
"Candy's Room" - The first down point for me, but only because I've never been that fond of it.
"She's the One" - Or this one.
"Out in the Street" - Wa oh ah oh oh...now we're on the trolley.
"Living in the Future" - The first song Bruce sings to the poor bastards behind the stage. Also the first (that I heard) to elicit some groans from some nearby old white people for his leftist commentary. If you paid $90 for a ticket to see the Boss without knowing his political leanings, ain't you de fool.
"The Promised Land" - Just great. The high points continue.
"Girls in Their Summer Clothes" - Or not. Not a bad song, but playing "AC" and "BtN" early on has whet my appetite for older stuff.
"The E Street Shuffle" - Played by special request. Haven't heard this in eons.
"Terry's Song" - I had to tell one of our concert companions to shut up for this one, which might be my favorite from the new album.
"Devil's Arcade" - Not bad, but everyone knows the big guns are just around the corner.
"The Rising" - A rousing number, especially when combined with...
"Last to Die" - Presented with little commentary, but riveting just the same.
"Long Walk Home"
"Badlands"
"Thunder Road" - Wow. You know, you could close out a show with those two and not many people would complain. We weren't even two hours in at that point, however.

"Always a Friend" - w/Alejandro Escovedo
"All Just to get to You" - w/Joe Ely - These were great surprises. I was a True Believers fan back in the day and it was great to see Alejandro back in the saddle, and Ely is great fun live. These songs were a real high point.
"Rosalita"
"Born to Run"
"10th Avenue Freeze Out"
"American Land"

Not much to add to that. Closing out with those three plus "Land" was just awesome.

Here's a thumbnail of the official list, which can be found at brucespringsteen.net. Looks like we were supposed to get "Point Blank," and "Murder, Inc." instead of "Because the Night," but I'm not complaining.

I'm bummed there was no "No Surrender," which he's played at a number of dates this tour, or "Darkness on the Edge of Town," but that's mere nitpicking. Just a great, great show. Even at 58, the dude rocks harder than guys a third his age - including yours truly, who has a sore throat from bellowing along with "Born to Run" - and acts like he's having a hell of a time doing it.

To quote Rob Gordon, "Thanks, Boss."

"Just so you don't hear any wild rumors, I'm being indicted for fraud in Australia."

Settle an internal debate for me:

Yes, I know it's AC/DC, slashes apparently screw up PollHost's code.

"Someone else" can include anyone but Silverchair, Divinyls, and Wolfmother, because they suck. If you choose this answer, please elaborate.

Up the irons

Just when I started to think my Heavy Metal Wife Joni had forsake me for someone younger and with more appropriately feathered hair, she sends an e-mail informing me Iron Maiden will be bringing their Somewhere Back in Time World Tour to Houston on May 22:

This tour revisits the band's history by focusing almost entirely on their classic 80's period in both choice of songs played and the stage set, which is based around the legendary Egyptian Production of that 'Powerslave Tour' as portrayed on the Live After Death DVD. This will arguably be the most elaborate and spectacular show the band have ever presented. Furthermore the band intends to bring along for this summer leg of the tour the colossal mummy of Eddie, as featured on the Live After Death DVD, along with various other elements of the show that would not fit on their 757 on the first leg of this tour...

Up for a road trip, Tim?

And before anyone asks, I will not "bring my daughter to the slaughter." I did, however, serenade her this afternoon with a medley consisting of - among others - "The Trooper," "Flight of Icarus," "Fear of the Dark," and "Wasted Years." To The Wife's growing annoyance.

"The Lord erased a major portion of the horror and utter despair that I felt during my playing days."

So thanks to whoever perused my Amazon wishlist and sent me Michael K. Haynes' The god Of Rock: A Christian Perspective of Rock Music last month. It's given me and my family hours of amusement, especially my sister-in-law, whose recent bout with stomach flu necessitated her spending several days in out bathroom over the Christmas break.

For those - mercifully - not in the know, TgOR was published in 1982 and was passed around to great hilarity by my merry band of heathens in junior high. Haynes is an ex-musician who saw the error of his ways and went on to found a ministry and become a Baptist pastor. Here's an excerpt:

IRON MAIDEN

This groups is [sic] relatively obscure "heavy metal" molten madness band that has recently come out with an album named "The Number of the Beast 666."

The promotion for this album which was seen in a recent Billboard magazine pictures the skeleton of a Rock musician looming largely over the fiery pit of hell. The Devil himself stands second in command under the authority of the musician. (They just don't know.) Darkness is in the background, lightning is flashing, and hell is seen as being filled with millions of people and demons. The artwork is unbelievably gross, but pictures the possibilities very well.

The copy for the promotion reads like this: IRON MAIDEN FORGED IN THE FIRES OF HELL - THE NEW ALBUM FROM THE MASTERS OF MOLTEN METAL MADNESS - THE BEAST ON THE ROAD and other "cute" sayings.

Iron Maiden in now on a rival with Judas Priest, Van Halen, Black Sabbath, and other bands that serve their god very well.

And it goes on like this. Come on over to my house and use our bathroom for more.

"And I've a mind to go spit on his grave"

So I'm minding my own business in the kitchen tonight, trying to decide if I have to wall mount some shelves near ceiling level to keep our kid from constantly attempting to juggle the steak knives, when The Wife calls me out to the living room. And why is she interrupting my ruminations? To inform me that "Decoration Day" by the Drive-By Truckers is playing over the dénouement of Criminal Minds, one of the many fine network TV shows rendering jury pools useless across the country.

I'm not too worried about this heralding a Coldplay-like love affair between TV and the DBTs. Jason Isbell had the prettiest voice in the band, and he left last year. More likely somebody on the show did a Google search for song lyrics pertaining to family violence and "Day" popped up, even though its Hatfields and McCoys theme didn't quite fit the plot of the show.

None of this really gets me too worked up, honestly. I'm just trying to kill some time before I finish up the entry about last week's Vegas trip.

Convert to Judy's-ism

MikeD passes along this happy news:

Just thought you'd like to know that The Judy's have finally released Washarama and Moo on CD. They sound fucking fantastic.

We launched the site earlier this week: http://www.wastedtalentrecords.com

I know for a fact that they have recorded at least one new song, and an anniversary double album edition of Washarama is in the works (with completely different material than what is on the current release). I'll keep on kicking Jeff in the shins until they promise to do it...

A long time coming. Go order your copies. And Mike neglected to mention it, but you can also order a copy of Where's My Towel/ Industry Standard by the Big Boys (produced by David Bean). Finally a companion for my copy of Lullabies Help the Brain Grow.

"It's true, it's true...we're so lame."

"See white guys, they drive like this."

You ready for another list demonstrating who unhip you are? If so, here's the 10 Rap Songs White People Love:

10. Positive K - I Got A Man
9. Digital Underground - The Humpty Dance
8. Biz Markie - Just A Friend
7. Young MC - Bust A Move
6. Rob Base and DJ Easy Rock - It Takes Two
5. Naughty By Nature - Hip Hop Hooray
4. Tag Team - Whoomp (There It Is)
3. Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby
2. House of Pain - Jump Around
1. Sir Mix-A-Lot - Baby Got Back

Vanilla Ice? You wound me, sir. I mean, at least throw Snow's "Informer" up there. And "Nuthin' But a G Thang" has to rate as well.

I can personally state that #s 10, 5, 4, and 3 are pretty much false. "I Got a Man" is largely forgotten, The Naughty By Nature song should be "OPP," and "Whoomp" is only popular if you count people sitting in the stands at football games as active Tag Team fans.

And "Ice Ice Baby" is easily as loathed by the teeming masses of honkies as anyone else.

As for the others: "The Humpty Dance" is admittedly still pretty catchy, my dad is an avowed fan of Young MC, I had to hunt far and wide for a CD copy of the Rob Base CD for The Wife, and I still occasionally listen to House of Pain's first one.

And "Baby Got Back" is unassailable. I say this because I've seen it in action, at a now-defunct C&W joint called (*sigh*) the Longhorn Saloon. I don't remember the circumstances that took us there, probably one of The Wife's work-related functions. I drank a few beers, made some feeble attempts to two-step, and watched in horror tinged with hysteria when the entire population of that bar flooded the dance floor for Sir Mix-A-Lot's magnum opus. I guess hip hop is safe when it sticks to asses and the like.

I give up

I mean, Houston's only the fucking 4th largest city in the country:

Oct 14 - College Station, TX - Big State Festival at the Texas World Speedway (this will be a ROCK SHOW) BUY TICKETS

The DBTs are playing Oct. 13 in New Orleans, and Oct. 16 in Tulsa.

Pros for attending the Big State Festival: Willie, Lyle Lovett, Robert Earl Keen, Reckless Kelly, Kelly Wills, and Charlie Louvin.

Cons: Tim McGraw, Trace Adkins, Dierks Bentley, and sitting through about two dozen other bands I've never heard of.

The hell with it. TWS is about a 75-minute drive from my house. And at this rate, the next DBT tour won't take them closer than Little Rock.

Hope you die before I get old

Two unrelated musical thoughts:

1. She Who Shall Not Be Named sometimes falls asleep in the car when I'm driving her home in the afternoon. To facilitate nap time, I'll occasionally switch to the easy listening station on Sirius (Movin EZ). Today, I caught Olivia Newton-John's "Please Mister Please," and I had occasion once again to thank the Great Old Ones I didn't spend my formative years in the 1970s. I don't know how anybody survived that shit.

I mean, I delude myself into thinking that - were I a '70s teen - I'd be really into the Stooges, Ramones, the Clash, and Big Star, but I know I'd be sporting the white boy afro and listening to Kansas and Styx in Peenman's Good Times Van, and I hate myself for it.

2. Also today, and possibly on the same station, I heard that John Mayer song "Waiting on the World to Change." With insipid lines like, "It's not that we don't care/We just know that the fight ain't fair" to justify his inaction, I was reminded Of that equally lame Jesus Jones song, "Right Here, Right Now." Remember that video? Here, let me refresh your memory:

The most striking thing, aside from that goofy bastard playing keyboards, is how Mike Edwards celebrates the fall of Communism and the exciting changes in the world by watching fucking TV. You couldn't illustrate narcissistic apathy better if Paris Hilton made an appearance. No wonder David Lowery sang about hating his generation.

"People of the world..."

"Every boy and every girl:"

The Spice Girls have confirmed they will reform for a world tour to take place in December and January.

The full line-up has not performed on stage since Ginger Spice Geri Halliwell quit in May 1998.

The 11 dates announced include a London show on 15 December, eight days after the tour begins in Los Angeles.
[...]
The only British date is in London, with the venue not yet confirmed. The other European dates are in Cologne and Madrid.

Yep, the Spice Girls - former Confession Time subject on this very blog - are going back on tour. No Texas dates, mores the pity. Just Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and New York. I have an as-yet unscheduled Vegas trip coming to me, however, and I might be able to convince my traveling companions the weekend of December 8.

I just need to lie and tell them my favorite exotic dancer is at the Cheetah, which has the virtue of being not too far off the mark.

Halliwell added: "For us it's about celebrating the past, enjoying each other and it's about our fans. It was kind of now or never."

In that case, I fully expect this to be part of the night's ensemble:

Yo, I'll tell you what I want. What I really...really want.

"The toppings contain potassium benzoate."

Addressing a dilemma the only way I know how, Simpsons-style:

House of Evil Owner: One of your favorite bands, the Drive-By Truckers, is on tour this summer, but they're not coming to Houston.
Pete: Oooh, that's bad.
House of Evil Owner: But they are playing something called the Lone Star Fandango in Dallas.
Pete: That's good!
House of Evil Owner: It's outdoors on July 15. High summer in Texas.
Pete: That's bad.
House of Evil Owner: But they're sharing a bill with the Drams and the Old 97's.
Pete: That's good!
House of Evil Owner: Tickets for reserved seating are $75.
Pete: ...
House of Evil Owner: That's bad.
Pete: I could stay with my sister in Ft. Worth...

ZZ Top and David Allan Coe are the headliners, but I have no interest in seeing either of them, since I'm pretty sure staying until the end requires the wearing of some sort of Confederate flag attire, and I have a tendency to break out if I wear anything bought at a Stuckey's.

So, should I even attempt to check this out?

Drags of our fathers

Because we're in the waning hours of Father's Day, and because it's simply too depressing for me to think about the fact that my own father recently received his black belt while I haven't thrown a punch in anger since the '90s, I'm going to bitch about the fact that the newest song of my youth being subverted for marketing purposes is "Sunny Side of the Street" by the Pogues.

It's hardly the first song from my impressionable salad days that's been appropriated in order to convince us to buy things. I can still remember the days of actual indignation when Orange Crush used "Good Vibrations" by the Beach Boys back in the early '80s, Nike set their shoe commercials to "Revolution 1," or when Eric Clapton and Genesis essentially wrote songs specifically to sell Michelob a few years later, but the interval between a song's release and when it pops up in a TV ad is pretty infinitesimal these days, so nobody really notices. Until it's something near and dear to them.

Which is what happened last night. I recognized the tune almost before the picture started, and when I realized my beloved Pogues were shilling for Cadillac (in an Escalade commercial, of all things), I just had to clutch my head in my hands. Very few of these things affect me anymore, but...fuck, I love the Pogues. I mean, using "Fairytale of New York" as the background music for Dominic returning to Ireland in season 2 of The Real World was kind of bad, but at least it was fucking Ireland. Escalades? Shit.

What's worse is, I suspect the guy who pitched this campaign is someone like me: he probably digs the Pogues and listened to their music a lot while getting loaded in college and exaggerating his Irish heritage to the foreign exchange students in his marketing program. Hell, he might even have thought he was doing something cool by proposing it as the song for their new ad campaign. So he got whoever the surviving members of the band with legal say-so are to agree to it, it doesn't change the fact that this person missed the fucking point entirely.

In the grand scheme of things, this is all pretty insignificant, but it annoyed me, so I guess that's good enough for a blog. Stay tuned for my next meltdown, which will probably take place shortly after Coca-Cola uses "Bastards of Young" to sell Diet Coke "Plus" during the World Series.

EDIT: Karin beats me to it.

When the server is running down

Aggravating news for everyone trying to get Police pre-sale tickets yesterday morning:

An automated ticket broker script was programmed to start hitting our system at the start of presales today. Our security measures blocked the attack, but the automated scripts from the ticket brokers continued to try to find a way into our ticket system and all this build up of traffic caused the site to crash. We have stabilized the site and will continue with presales today as scheduled below.

Members were supposed to be able to get tickets at 10 AM, which was bumed to 11 AM on the Ticketmaster site without any fanfare. This got bumped back to noon after the above announcement hit the web page, much to the consternation of just about everyone on the message boards.

So to sum up, existing members got to buy at noon yesterday, people wanting to wait for the "bundle" on Ticketmaster (electing to join if tickets were available) got their shot at 4 PM, while the general public has to wait until Saturday morning.

And then there are those of who were able to get in and get their tickets at the regular time anyway. That's right, I'll be at the Toyota Center June 29 with all the other almost-middle-aged idiots desperately trying to cling to the dissipating tendrils of their youth.

Any chance they won't play "Every Breath You Take?"

And everything I had to know
I heard it on my radio

I can count on one hand the number of musicians/artists whose deaths have affected me beyond a cursory "Gee, that sucks" exclamation, but one of them was Freddie Mercury. The news that he'd kicked was like a punch in the gut to a guy who'd been a Queen fan since their News of the World days.

When he died in 1991, the BBC aired a tribute. I ran across Pt. 1 on MetaFilter. Normally it wouldn't warrant an individual post, but I ran across it the same day I saw this story on the BBC about George Michael playing the first concert at the new Wembley Stadium:

Singer George Michael is to play the first concert at the new Wembley Stadium, it has been announced.

The pop star will perform at the 90,000 capacity venue on 9 June as part of his British and European stadium tour.

Michael, 43, played several key gigs at the old stadium, including Live Aid in 1985 and Wham's farewell concert in 1986 with ex-bandmate Andrew Ridgeley.

Bully for him, but for this particular non-Briton who never got a chance to actually visit the place, the ultimate old Wembley gig was Queen in1986. To this day, I regret never getting to see them live.

I won't make the same mistake when Iron Maiden comes through here again.

Achtung. Polizei.

It's no Cinderella reunion, but it'll do:

The Police have booked rehearsal space for their upcoming reunion tour, according to reports.

The news seems to confirm claims that the band are on the brink of reforming, more than 20 years since they last played live.

Sting, Andy Summers, and Stewart Copeland are expected to reunite at Lions Gate Studios in Vancouver in the coming weeks to work on material.

With the group currently celebrating the 30th anniversary of their breakthrough hit "Roxanne," details of a full world tour are expected shortly, reports Billboard.

The Police came to Houston in 1984 on their Synchronicity tour and played an amazing show. Of course, I was in 9th grade and living in College Station and the chances of my parents letting me go to the Big City for a rock concert were essentially nil, so I had to hear all about it from Peenman's older brother, who was a senior at the time and gloated about it endlessly while driving us to school. True story.

Anyway, it's pretty common knowledge the three met briefly in Park City at last year's Sundance Film Festival, where Copeland was promoting Everyone Stares: The Police Inside Out, Sting was producing A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints and Summers was bumming quarters. Nothing reportedly came of that particular meeting, but now it looks like I might finally get a chance to see one of my favorite bands of all time live.

Especially since Queen probably won't be reuniting in the near future.

Mama's gonna buy you a satellite

As a Sirius Radio subscriber, it's apparently my sovereign duty to inform you that Sirius will be free for the listening on the internet tomorrow and Thursday, Oct. 25-26. Simply go to the web site and log in using your e-mail address to take advantage.

I actually thought you could do this at any time to create a temporary account and sample the wares, but never mind that now.

Just as the title of this entry implies, the Hooters are but a taste of the wonders that await you, should you decide to indulge. To give you an idea, here are a few of my own personal presets:

18 - The Spectrum - "Adult contemporary" is such an ugly phrase. I prefer "Testicularly challenged rock."
22 - First Wave - More Smiths than you can shake a celibate bicycle pump at.
23 - Hair Nation - Poison and Ratt and Krokus, oh my!
25 - Underground Garage - This is actually one of my favorite channels, with everyone from the Lords of the New Church to the Mummies.
27 - Hard Attack - The inclusion of old Metallica and Sabbath make up for Cradle of Filth. For now.
30 - The Coffee House - Only included because The Wife rides in the car a lot.
35 - Chill - Hey, mellow off man.
43 - Backspin - Let the rhythm hit 'em, good sir.
63 - Outlaw Country - Waylon, Hanks I and III, Cash, and a variety of others. One of my favorites.
116 - Kids Stuff - You'd be surprised how much you can put up with the Wiggles if it'll keep your darling child from screaming.
134 - NPR Now - Sirius has two NPR channels for all your public radio needs.
141 - BBC World Service - News and football...the European kind.

Obviously the biggies for this promotion are the two Howard Stern channels (100 is fine, skip 101 with Bubba the Love Sponge and all that shit), the NFL, and the Who and Stones channels. All well and good, I just wish they could somehow push this to your car stereos. I can't speak for everyone, but spend 20 minutes driving in Houston without commercials and you'll never go back to terrestrial radio.

"Smithers, have the Rolling Stones killed."

I'm not one for begging on my blog, but I might have to reconsider and ask for the roughly $300 I'd need for a round-trip ticket to experience musical nirvana:

DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS DATES:
Wed Oct 25
St. Louis, MO - Mississippi Nights w/The Drams

The Drams, in case you didn't know by now, are the band formed by Brent, Jess, and Tony after the break-up of Slobberbone, AKA my favorite band of all time. To see them with the DBTs - my current favorite band - would be, well, it'd be something.

Any takers? I've got tons of family in St. Louis, and one in particular who's pretty high up at Anheuser-Busch, so maybe we could work out an exchange. At least until these assholes deign to make a stop in Houston (merely the fourth largest city in the freaking country).

Nah, just kidding. I know none of you drink Budweiser.

Hopefully this won't result in the revocation of my Iron Maiden fan club credentials

By the power of YouTube, I have been able to waste an unspecified amount of time tracking down long forgotten videos and favorite artists. I won't bore you with most of them, except to present a video introspective of Tanya Donnelly, ex-Throwing Muses, Breeders, and Belly, and possibly my longest running musical infatuation.

Next to Freddie Mercury.

First, we have "Not Too Soon" by the Throwing Muses. From the bad blonde dye job to the ubiquitous (for the early '90s) leggings, she was everything a poser indie rock fan could want. And Kristin Hersh is mercifully silent.

Next, Belly's "Feed the Tree". This one is from their first album, Star, though I tend to think both it and King are quite underrated. And dig that pirate blouse.

Finally, Tanya solo on "The Bright Light" (off 1997's Love Songs for Underdogs). Mellow gold.

Belly was the first concert The Wife and I saw when we were dating. I think - deep down - she realized that if Ms. Donnelly had pointed me out in the audience, David Lee Roth-style, so the roadies could escort me backstage, that would've been the end of our short relationship. Curiously, that didn't happen.

It's cool, I think we had the same arrangement for her regarding Angus Macfadyen.

Can't hardly wait

Matthew, the administrator of the SKYWAY mailing list, assures us this is not an April Fool's joke:

Color us fucking impressed: Original flannel gods the Replacements have recorded their first new material since 1990. According to a press release from Rhino Records, 3/4 of the original lineup (and the only surviving ones), Paul Westerberg, Tommy Stinson, and Chris Mars, reconvened last December in Minneapolis to record two new Westerberg-penned tunes, "Message to the Boys" and "Pool & Dive," for the upcoming Replacements compilation Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?: The Best of the Replacements.

According to Billboard.com, the tracks were recorded at producer Ed Ackerson's Flowers Studio. Josh Freese (Vandals, A Perfect Circle) played the drums; original drummer Mars opted out of stick duties in favor of recording backing vocals. No mention was made of former guitarist Slim Dunlap who performed with the band from 1987 to 1991, following original guitarist Bob Stinson's departure. (Bob Stinson died in 1995.)
[...]
Don't You Know Who I Think I Was? is scheduled for release on June 13, and will feature 18 classic tracks alongside the pair of new recording. It will also mark the second officially sanctioned 'Mats compilation since the group disbanded in 1991, and the first to encompass their entire career, as 1997's All For Nothing, Nothing For All only documented their later, less influential, years on Sire.
[...]
As if that isn't enough news from the long-dormant outfit, a recent Rhino podcast revealed details of a Replacements box set tentatively due out next year. Featuring a new interview with founding member (and current Guns n' Roses bassist) Tommy Stinson, the podcast unveiled plans for a multi-disc package that will draw from the band's entire back catalog, including a host of previously unreleased material, as well as a DVD of live performances.

New material? Great news. Boxed set? Awesome news. Now to complete the superlative trifecta, you guys need to put together another tour. Hit the club circuit (none of this 10,000 seat theater or festival crap) and thrash out "Bastards of Young" and "Alex Chilton" in front of a couple hundred sweaty, drunken fans. You guys are one of the greatest rock and roll bands of all time, time to remind people currently choking on shit like Fall Out Boy and the All-American Rejects of that fact.

And I know y'all don't remember that 1988 show you played at the Texas Union Ballroom any better than I do. Help a brother out.

Sadly, they can't all be "Hair Nation"

Sirius added five new channels today, none of which will ever taint my receiver presets.

Heh heh..."taint."

Blue Collar Comedy Channel

Featuring the Blue Collar Comedy of Jeff Foxworthy, Larry the Cable Guy, Bill Engvall, Kathleen Madigan, Lisa Lampanelli, Ralphie May and many more, showcasing their enormously successful movies, tours, CDs, TV programs and books.

Madigan is a bit of a stretch, and Lisa Lampanelli certainly hits the racial slur high notes so favored by blue collar comedy fans, but her routine is much more tongue-in-cheek than just that. Guess they needed some females to round out the sausage fest that is the Blue Collar Comedy Tour.

And I notice Ron White is conspicuously absent. Guess he should've developed a catchphrase, something that never gets tiresome, like "Git-R-Done" or "Here's your sign" or "You might be a redneck if..." That, my friend, is comedy.

Now that they've been sequestered in their own little lily white corner of satellite radio, this means I don't have listen to Bill Engvall's unlistenable "family friendly" crap and Ralphie May's whiteboy ebonics shtick on the other comedy channels, right?

Fox News / Fox News Talk

Mmm. My cup runneth over.

Cosmo Radio

Advice on love, sex, and relationships; tips on beauty, fitness and fashion; the latest celebrity gossip; and the news you need to be the most informed girl at the water cooler. Cosmo Radio takes you to the velvet ropes with our editors at special events and lets you listen (if you dare!) to guys giving their uncensored opinions on dating and relationships. Plus, you'll hear extra editions of your favorite columns, like Ask Him Anything, Bedside Astrologer, and Guy Spy.

Heaven forbid you actually read a newspaper or listen to the BBC to become the "most informed girl at the water cooler."

Shit, you don't have to sign up for Sirius to hear "uncensored opinions" on dating and relationships, either. Just pay me for gas and I'll take you to the local SRO Sports Bar. You'll get an earful, believe me.

Playboy Radio

Q. What will be the content on the Playboy channel?

A. Playboy Radio features a full range of new live programming created for SIRIUS, such as a new morning show that will include segments with Playboy founder Hugh Hefner, live call-in shows and broadcasts from the Playboy Mansion. Playboy Radio on SIRIUS will be Playboy's most extensive foray into radio, producing more than four times the content of previous radio ventures to keep listeners entertained morning, noon and night. Aimed at the same mature, sophisticated audience that Playboy Magazine helped to define, Playboy Radio encompasses the entire array of what Playboy is: Hef, The Mansion, The Playmates, The Girls Next Door, the Magazine, and Playboy TV. Care to talk live with a real Playboy Bunny? You can on this channel! From the lifestyle of the sophisticated gentleman, to the inner secrets of an adult star -- if you want it, you'll find it on Playboy Radio.

I hope they can land ace correspondents Scott Baio and Danny Bonaduce to describe in detail all the giant silicone breasts bouncing around them. Nothing is more indicative of Playboy's continued cutting edge grasp of the adult entertainment industry than featuring semi- or fully naked women on a medium where absolutely no one can see them.

That's good radio.

Mild in the streets

Maybe I'm reading too much into early '80s punk lyrics, but this saucy couplet by the Circle Jerks has been bugging me for a while:

'64 Valiant, handful of valium
Couple of beers really do me right

How the hell does that equate to "Wild in the Streets?" Wouldn't it be more like "Dozing at the Stoplight?" "Prone on the Futon?"

Requiem for a Social Life - Ch. 317

The music schedule is up for this year's South by Southwest festival. I haven't gone through it too closely, mostly because I'll only be there for the first weekend to...ahem..."see some films." The Wife will be on another continent during the following week, meaning my odds of hitting a late night show at the Back Room and then dragging my ass back to Houston the same night are, shall we say, unlikely.

So it really pains me to see this:

La Zona Rosa (612 W 4th St) (All Ages)
The Drams - 10:00 p.m.
Drive By Truckers - 1:00 a.m.

In case you didn't know, the Drams are Brent, Jess, and Tony from Slobberbone, plus Keith Killoren and Chad Stockslager of Budapest One. The DBTs, for their part, have taken the title of Pete's Favorite Band in the wake of Slobberone's break-up (the latter occupied the spot for a good four years).

Somehow, I don't think our usual babysitter would be up for staying over until 5 AM (I think they charge double time after 10:00 anyway).

"'Cause Mr. Phillips never blew enough hot air to need a little gold plated paperweight."

The new Grammy nominations are here! The new Grammy nominations are here!

Mariah Carey's comeback came full circle Thursday as she was nominated for eight Grammys, including album of the year for "The Emancipation of Mimi" and song and record of the year for her torch ballad "We Belong Together."

"This year has been such a blessing," Carey told The Associated Press shortly after the nominations were announced. "This is prayers answered. I'm grateful for the nominations and I'm really grateful for the fact that people are responding to the music I've made."

I'm reminded of one of Evan Dorkin's comic strips, which shows God watching an awards show and commenting, "Don't thank me, kid...I fucking hated your album."

The Grammy people aren't responding to your music, Mariah, they're just happy you released an album so they can continue to prove their irrelevance by nominating dreck like Fall Out Boy, Rascal Flatts, and Kanye West instead of Ryan Adams, Coldplay, or - dare I say - the Transplants.

Speaking of West, he was back to his old tricks during his "nomination acceptance" speech. I don't expect you to sit through it, even though I did, so here's the transcript:

If I don't win album of the year, I'm gonna...I'm really gonna have a problem with that.

I could NEVER talk myself out of it. You know why? Because I was in a studio, and I put in the work. I don't care if I jumped up and down on the couch right now like Tom Cruise, I don't care WHAT I do. I don't care how much I STUNT, you can never take away from the amount of WORK that I put into it.

So, I don't wanna hear all that politically correct stuff. You put the camera in front of me, I'm gonna tell you like this: I worked HARD to get here. I put my love, I put my heart, I put my money...I don't make that...I'm $600,000 in the hole right now on that album. And you tell me about being politically incorrect? People love these songs! You talk to someone whose grandmother just died and listens to "Roses." And you tell me about being politically incorrect.

I'm talking about HISTORY. I never got five mics in the Source, never got five stars from the Vibe. They said it's not a classic. So, Jesus Walks is not a classic? Roses is not a classic? Gold Digger wasn't song of the year?

50 Cent gets shot nine times and nobody can spare a bullet for this moron?

The Humpty Dance

Settle a debate for me...

My gym played a song yesterday that gave me such a start I almost dropped an 80-lb dumbbell on my testicles. When I remarked to the guy next to me that I'd almost sterilized myself, he helpfully let me know that the song in question was "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas.

Have you ever experienced one of those situations where you're blissfully unaware of something and then, just like that (in my best Verbal Kint voice), you can't get away from it? Predictably, I heard the song two more times yesterday, and have since disconnected every radio in the house to make sure I don't hear it again.

So where does the debate come in? I'm getting to it.

The Wife comes home as I'm yanking A/V cables out of the stereo and, understandably, asks me what the hell I'm doing. I describe my dilemma, but also put forth something else that worries me. Namely, that if intelligent life forms somewhere in the universe should happen upon a transmission of this song, they'll swoop down upon us and incinerate our planet like so many biology textbooks at a Kansas PTA rally.

Not so, retorted the missus. Perhaps - she said - just perhaps, they'd hear the song and, realizing we were obviously too intellectually stunted to pose a serious threat, leave us in peace. I had to admit, she made a valid point. I mean, would any technologically advanced society hear something like this and honestly have cause to fear us?

What u gon' do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I'm a make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
'Cause of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.

There is, of course, a third option: that the aliens in question are actually responsible for song in question. I can only surmise that their use of it is intended to melt our collective cerebral cortices to such an extent that we won't even notice when they descend on Earth and load us up to serve as slaves in their iridium mines.

The moral being, uh, society is doomed. And quit listening to the goddamn Black Eyed Peas.

"The most unusual place you've ever 'made whoopee?'"

Last week sucked. I don't say that often, friends, but Nov. 14-18 ranked right up there with past classics such as Did I Pass My Grad School Comprehensive Exams? and Waiting for the Health Department's Test Results.

For those who may have been disappointed after checking here for cogent discussion about recent current events and coming up empty, I apologize. To make it up to you, here's a list of the Greatest Songs Ever Written About Anal Sex, complete with occasional lyric samples that will prove my point. You're welcome.

"The Anal Staircase" - Coil
And the rapids of my heart
Will tear your ship of love apart
And we'll end up wrecked
We'll end up at the start
Of the anal staircase

"Hurts So Good" - John Cougar
Sometimes love don´t feel like it should
You make it hurt so good

"Prison Sex" - Tool
Actually, I don't need to contribute lyrics to this one, as there's not a hell of a lot of ambiguity involved. I will tell you that, at a job I had waiting tables at a "private dining club," one of the social directors asked me to look at some of her son's CDs and let her know if they were suitable listening for a 14 year-old. Not being a big fan of Tipper Gore, I told her Tool's Undertow album was just peachy.

"Jam Up and Jelly Tight" - Tommy Roe
You look a little naughty
But you're so polite
Jam up and jelly tight
You won't say you will but
There's a chance that you might

"Wrong Way" - Sublime
I gave her all that I had to give
But she still wouldn't take it, oh no
Her two brown eyes are leaking like a sieve

"Exit 109" - Dale Watson
109, 109
Easy to please, easy to find
Park it where the sun don't shine

"Mickey" - Toni Basil
So come on and give it to me anyway you can
Anyway you want to do it
I'll take it like a man

I Sit On Acid - Lords of Acid
The opening line is the really the only reference to our subject, but the repeated refrain of "I wanna sit on your face" has to count for something, right?

"Nothing to Lose" - KISS
Before I had a baby
I didn't care anyway
I thought about the back door
I didn't know what to say

But once I got a baby
I, I tried every way
She didn't wanna do it
But she did anyway

"I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" - Meatloaf
Honestly, this one was suggested to me, and I have a hard time seeing how it meets the criteria. Is Meatloaf saying he'll do anything up to (but not including) anal when it comes to love? How is that a sacrifice on the part of his significant other?

"Back Door Santa" - Clarence Carter
Okay, the concept of a "back door man" is pretty old in blues music, and denotes a man who gets with the woman of a working man, necessitating his arrival and departure through the back door. I just include it here because the idea of Santa having "backdoor" relations with anyone was too disquieting for me not to share with everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving.

R.I.P. Chris Whitley

Seadogs alerted me earlier today to the sad news that Texas singer-songwriter Chris Whitley passed away last Sunday. He was 45 years old:

Chris Whitley, a chameleon Houston singer-songwriter who oscillated between roots rock 'n' roll, blues and alt-rock, has died. He was 45.

Whitley passed away Sunday evening, according to a message posted on his Web site by his daughter, Trixie Whitley.

Specifics were not available today. "No one saw this coming," his publicist of several years, Ben Sterling, told The Associated Press.

The singer was surrounded by his family and girlfriend before passing away, according to his Web site.

I confess to having lost track of Whitley since moving away from Texas in the mid '90s and then moving back. Many of my friends had copies of 1991's Living With the Law and Terra Incognita, among others, and we grew to love Whitley's singular style. I wish I'd seen him live one more time these past few years when he'd made appearances at the Continental Club, but there you are. Things always come up, and chances slip away without our ever knowing it.

Adios, Chris.