Dance the dance of the space goddess ritual! Neuron-eating music and videos for your perusal!

People like to suggest, sometimes, that I am some sort of acid burnt wacko, a persona that I, sometimes, encourage perhaps. However, if youtube had been around when I was doing chemical alterations to my psyche, THIS kind of video would have made me a prime candidate for a rubber room and arm and leg restraints. Hell, it's freaky enough WITHOUT drugs; I couldn't imagine watching this already out of my mind! Of course, I have watched it repeatedly today!

You know me - I like all sorts music, high brow and low brow. But this video just makes my bowels and nads hurt with an unimaginable horror - no wonder punk music needed to happen and happened when it did! "But, wait," you might say, "I thought you liked bands like the Osmonds!?! Aren't they similar?" I won't quibble on that point - both bands are somewhat of the same ilk. HOWEVER, the Osmonds were musical geniuses, a Mormon Beatles, if you will. They mined the depths and heights of our emotions and imaginations, making this world a better, kinder, and stronger place. They played their instruments AND danced AND sang AND smiled AND all the while searched for ways to end world hunger, fight Communist Aggression, and pursue the race to land a man-made vehicle on Mars. The band in this video, on the other hand, was so obviously only in it for the money - how else do you explain someone voluntarily playing this kind of garbage and doing so in public on television? For the joy of the music and the ability to entertain? HELL NO! Money, pure and simple, is the source of this horse manure! So, go tell "the Man" to honk on bubba for foisting crap like this onto us! Enjoy!

A fun past time for the GSHA music set - fictional band album art

Here is a way to blow some time that I discovered recently on a variety of blogs, such as this one and this one. It is a way to create a fake album cover for a fake band that you make! Follow these instructions and you will waste a ton of time, giggling, sighing, or wishing that these bands existed. If you dream it, they will come to your house and rock!

Your band name comes from a random Wikipedia article and your album title comes from the last 4 words of the last quote from a random quotation and your album art is the third on this page of random Flickr photos.

Slap it all together and you get something like this:

Martorell - they're a zeitgeisty tour-de-force that combines the post-punk intensity of Joy Division, the dual lyricism of Bernie Taupin and Lou Reed, and the full-on feedback assault of the Jesus and Mary Chain, all nicely piled up together in a sunshine pop and vocal-harmonizing wrapping of the Osmonds. Check them out this spring on tour, if you can. Enjoy!

Group 2 Exam today

I go before the tribunal today!

A crooner for the ages - who will be our pick?

Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band, as many of you know, is one of our favorites here at the Veeb. The Captain has a 5 octave vocal range and a penchant for screaming, grunting, and growling his way through electrified blues and into your heart, head, and mind. We provide for you (above) a selection from his first LP, Safe As Milk, entitled "Electricity!"

Unlike the Captain and his friends, Scott Walker started as a crooning pop singer with a group called the Walker Brothers, a popular band during the 1960s British Invasion. After going solo, Scott Walker began to sing increasingly darker and disturbing songs about prostitutes, homosexuals, communist dictators, and torture interagators, ultimately producing albums of high-pitched falsetto singing about urban decay and despair over top the sounds of orchestras, industrial noises, and metallic destruction. This video gives an example of the first type of music Scott Walker was involved with:

On a side note, I had a weird dream last night that I thought was interesting: a panther was running around my backyard, scaring black cats that were running away and jumping up in the air - which made me laugh out loud. An Eskimo ran in with a pine tree branch and wounded the panther in the side. I screamed "No, no, Nanook!" As he lay dying, the panther looked up at me and simply asked," Why?" What does this mean?

My nose hurts and my eye has started twitching again! Bah-humbug!

I can't get into the spirit of the season. My sickness, my impending Group Two exam, my lack of anything exciting to give to anyone for Christmas, our death culture of plasticity - all these conspire to make me a melancholy Dane. What's a man to do? Ho freaking ho!

Tribute to an important influence...

Those of you that know me know that I spent time in Alaska and thoroughly enjoyed it. During my stay there, I was privileged to work with several interesting individuals that helped shape me into the lean, mean, historigraphical machine that I have become. One in particular was Mr. C. Scott Fry, whose video is presented above. Among his many brush strokes on my canvas (nothing sexual), he introduced me to Beck's beer and Tom Waits, as well as granted me my increased ability to consume alcohol - note the numerous scenes of drunken pontificating and cursing throughout the video (apologies to those with virgin ears). I even have the old guitar and guitar case that he gave me, which I use to screech out tragic paeans to love lost and love won. While many of the Veeb's viewers will be disinterested, perhaps, the best part of the video is to showcase the interior of the beloved Alaskan Hotel and Bar with C. Scott Fry, where he was my manager. So, without waxing too poetic about him, I give you the man, the myth, and the legend!

SHAKE! SHAKE! SHAKE! and BAKE! BAKE! BAKE!

Enjoy!

White soul - can you dig it?

I've been listening to a lot of soul, blues, and rhythm and blues these last few days. Many soul and R&B artists covered this song by the Bee Gees, such as this one:

Say what you will about them, but they could write a good song! Enjoy!

Some of my new favorite mu-suck-ial groups - part one

Every one should follow their muse and do the things that make them happy (within reason - zoosadism and pedophilia don't count). I have yet to find my overriding passion, but these folks seem to have found their's, although perhaps in ways that make the rest of us scratch our heads and go "Huh?" or "Do what?"

This first is Leslie and the Lys, the brainchild of Leslie Hall, a gold lame beehive-hairdoed lady from Iowa who envisions herself as a rap / hip-hop genius (who's to say she isn't?). Here she presents what is probably the only (that I'm aware of) musical pop tribute to the Ron Howard movie Willow:

Watching this makes me repeatedly wonder: why didn't we do stuff like this in the TA office?

Dily Lama - an arresting update

After further investigation, I have discovered, and I am sad to report, that Dillard Clark has passed on to his final reward. I was unaware of this, having not visited with him for years. I was reminded that he used to tell me to keep my aftershave in the fridge to keep it potent. And, as my sister pointed out, he was a member of our church and contributed an original recipe to the church cookbook for cantaloupe pie. We have decided to make it, despite our hatred of cantaloupe, in honor of the man. I've included a video of the Beatles, Dillard's favorite band, here for all of us to remember him by as we get ready to make his unique pie. So, here's to you, Dillard, and hope you have found peace as much as you gave to others!


I also include "Legend of a Mind" by the Moody Blues - you'll understand why if you don't already.

Enjoy!

Are you kind? Cuz it just felt like a Dead kinda day!

Gosh, the Grateful Dead in 1970 were so cute! They seemed so alive and into their music, even if they just kinda stood there and gazed off into space. The crowd sure was into their music, even if most of them had no rhythm whatsoever. This is when I like the Dead the best, before all the drugs made them too jazzy and less R&B-y. Indeed, Rhythm and Blues and Blues is my latest obsession du jour. So, expect more of that for a while until I lock onto something else. Enjoy!

I, Icarus, fall headfirst into oblivion...

It was with a heavy heart that I finally realized the extent of my descent from previous glory on the Myspace friend's list of Henry. To be sure, it means nothing concerning our friendship - it is merely a shuffling of bytes and electrons so as to appease his more fragile followers. And yet...MY RANKING ON HIS LIST WAS ALL I HAD TO LIVE FOR IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD! Sure, I shuffled it off with puckish aplomb, because that is what he'd expect of me - to be a good soldier tried and true. But, deep down, I am dead inside. When I discovered my new locale, I raced home tearfully, leaped into bed, assumed the fetal position, and turned the electric blanket up to nine (thanks Limelighters). My world fell down...

"WTF!" he remarked before jumping off the cliff into the ravine...

Do you like early sixties fashion? Do you like soul music? Do you like scantily-clad women having epileptic seizures out of synch to said music? Then, do I have the video for you! Believe you me, one viewing is not enough! But be forewarned - this film takes a piece of your soul with each viewing!

Enjoy!