Music Night — Weirdo edition

Oh dear...

I found a link to the 10 Worst Album Covers of All Time on facebook, and sent it to Gummitch for use in future Music Night genius-ness.  I’m not sure why he wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot tone arm.  Heh.

Here’s Salami Tsunami’s caption for the above album cover:

Hey guys, I think you got your album title mixed up with the Ministers Quartet up there. By the way, if I ever ‘wake up into a dream’ where I am surrounded by a bunch of naked male hippies, it had better be the result of a toxic snakebite and/or a fever-induced coma. Again, I have to ask the obvious question; who decided that an album cover featuring hairy naked dudes would sell music? Especially when some of the guys look way too happy, while a couple are noticeably uncomfortable. They snapped the picture when the guy in the middle was saying, “Hey, Julian, we aren’t all like you and Viceroy. Where is your other hand? I need to see them both. That was the deal.” I have no idea what this music is like, but at least we know where boy bands came from.

*snerk*  That is just so wrong!

Erm, what was I talking about?  Oh yeah, Music Night — Enjoy!

115 thoughts on “Music Night — Weirdo edition

  1. Ooh shocking picture to start….

    Got this one from my Dad this week. Its just fun to listen to – was the theme song for a very popular 60s and 70s comedy duo too.

    • I LOVE THIS!! years ago I watched a stripper strip his way to our table – and I thought the MUSIC was HOT!!! ‘-)

  2. Simona de Silvestro flew home to Switzerland last week, and when she tried to fly back to the US for the Sonoma Grand Prix, this weekend, she couldn’t clear customs in New York and had to go back to Switzerland!

    Ana Beatriz was 7th in the just-concluded first practice, while Danica was 26th of 28 cars. She always races better than she qualifies.

    Gloria Estefan – Hoy

    • .
      My stomach just churned and my heart dropped. It is against all that MLK lived by and preached! They can not believe he’d approve of slave work.
      (not being paid to finish a job is slavery).

        • I agree. Blow it up, and find an african-american sculptruss to do it fuckin’ right. Unfuckinbelievable that this was allowed in the first place.

      • And the sick part is they could fly the poor damn Chinese bastards who didn’t know any better over here, put them up in the land of dreams and then send them home with nothing.

        They didn’t support America. They didn’t support China. And they built a monument to one of the last men who would have been outraged by their actions.

        Somehow, I think that sculpture is in for a lot of abuse.

  3. The thing that pisses me off today is that most of the people in power are my contemporaries. Folks who lived through the 60’s. Baby Boomers who came to adulthood damning the man..

    And yet, they are the suckups today. The senior sycophants. They have forgotten the reasons Viet Nam ended. Even worse, they are embracing the evil that caused it. I wish I could find a song that expresses my anger, my understanding, my desire for something more. Only one balladeer comes close.

    Just maybe

  4. For those who hang out a bit too much in cyberspace – particularly the gamers… (You may recognize the singer as Felicia Day who is currently starring in Eureka).

    • So zxbe, Wayne and I aren’t the only ones who watch Eureka? We love that show – Wayne’s been getting tweets from Wil Wheaton about the last couple of episodes. I’m gonna miss it, it’s such a good show.

      • Jane, glad to see there are other Eureka fans here. 🙂

        I love the show too. Been watching it since day one. Was shocked to find out that it’s going to end.

        You and Wayne might enjoy watching Felica’s Youtube Show called “The Guild” about gamers who have no life. She plays pretty much the same character as Holly on Eureka. So it’s fun. 🙂

  5. Why Ron Paul will never be president:

    While giving a speech in Gilford, New Hampshire, the die-hard libertarian said no national response to Hurricane Irene is needed. “A state can decide,” Paul said. “We don’t need somebody in Washington.”

    He cited the deadly hurricane of 1900 that leveled Galveston, Texas and killed more than 6,000 people as an example of a better life before FEMA.

    “I live on the gulf coast, we deal with hurricanes all the time,” said Paul. “The local people rebuild the city. Built a sea wall and they survived without FEMA.”

    Ron Paul is a selfish and disgusting human being.

  6. I sort of like Ron. He says all the Red states that are sucking on the Blue states should toughen up and take care of themselves.

    • Plausible denialbility – I’ve never seen my own butt crack – couldn’t pick it out of a line up – no way.

      • Although at my wedding we handed out cameras for people to take pictures and hand them in to us – so my friends went into the bathroom and did a full moon line up….. they were so smart…. except that their ties dangled down between their legs which was how we know whose was whose 🙂

  7. Meeting Charlie Musselwhite

    It was the fall of 1968. Following an uncertain summer, America was at war with itself over Vietnam, and the government wanted my body. I had just returned to my parents home in Los Angeles after a self prescribed exile to PuertoVallarta, Mexico. For six weeks I lived in a jalapa on a Mexican shamans’ small farm, to think, draw, and play my guitar. Browsing through the entertainment section of the L.A. Times, wanting to urbanize myself, I came across a small review about a blues band headed by Charlie Musselwhite playing a one night gig at a bar in El Segundo. A year before, in the attic music room of my friend Mike Mott’s house, he turned me onto Charlie’s first album “Stand Back” and I was hooked. The Blue’s siren had summoned, and I was more than willing to be lured, and seduced.
    A bank of fog had traveled inland from the ocean making driving, and finding the bar difficult. Circling the vicinity several times, the bar’s red neon sign finally burned through the mist exposing its location. The name of the bar I had long ago disregarded because, like so many bars of that time, it was worn-down by patrons with booze induced shambled legs, and the fiduciary neglect of its owner. I attentively entered through the brass studded vinyl padded door a little before ten to find a nearly empty room. Confused I quickly scanned the wall around the door for a poster advertising the nights billing. There it was; yep, right place and time; but where was everybody?
    At the bar was a portly guy wearing an ear-muff hat, and sleeveless shirt, hunched over a beer, his butt crack announcing his existence; a cocktail waitress in a long pleated skirt looking like she has just been told her car had a bad transmission; a bartender with pomaded hair smelling of apples and tobacco, and five guys, over by a small raised bandstand, in animated conversation. This scene seemed creepy so I picked a booth in the back of the room for its womb-like protection and waited. The waitress came over, looking like she could be the ear-muffed hat guys wife, and asked…. “whaddayahave honey?”
    “Is the band going to play?”
    “I suppose, they’re arguing, whaddayahaving?”
    “A shot of JD and a beer.”
    “Right back honey,” and she ambled off.
    As I waited for my drinks, I concentrated to listen into the groups conversation, but only got snippets of legalese like, “it’s in your contract,” “Bullshit”, and its equivalents. This was not going good, and I wondered about my future in this place.
    “Here they are honey, enjoy.” She’s warming up to the idea that I may be her only source of income tonight.
    “Thanks. Good night for tips, huh.” I couldn’t resist.
    “Just another night in heaven honey. Leave Nola whatcha can.”
    I knocked back the shot , sipped my beer, and began to read the jokes on the bar napkin when I heard footsteps coming my way. “Excuse me, may I have a talk with you?” spoken in a singular southern drawl.
    “Sure,” I said in a SoCal western sort of way.
    “My name is Charlie Musselwhite,” extending his hand.
    “Cool, mine’s Ben,” offering mine in return.
    “Pleasure. You might have heard me and my band back there arguing with the owner, and I wanted to tell you why. Okay?”
    “Okay, why?”
    “It’s about the gentleman at the bar and you.”
    “I mean, not personally you gentlemen, but because you’re here the owner says that for us to get paid we need to play a set, even though we have a guaranteed contract, and he’s not charging you a cover.”
    “Uh, sorry?”
    “So the band and I think you could buy us a drink, and we’ll play anything you like. You’re into the blues aren’t you?”
    “Yea.. yea..okay it’s a deal.. uh.. just play some slow blues since there’s no one here to dance with, and close the set with that song on your album, “Christo Redemptor”. Fair?”
    “More than fair Ben, more than fair.”
    “Nola, a round for Charlie and the band, and the gentleman at the bar.”

    So that’s how I met Charlie. Years later at the Waterfront Blues Festival in Portland, Oregon, after he finished his set I was able to have a conversation with him, and told him of this story. He smiled and chuckled, not remembering our meeting of course, but simply asked….
    “Was it fair?”
    “More than fair Charlie, more than fair.”

    Ben Garlow ©2007

  8. .
    All that wonderful talk about Charlie – I didn’t see any music postings.
    That’ll be remedied by these:

    Blues Harp extraordinaire ~ Charlie’s got it going on…

    Charlie Musselwhite w/ Richard Bargel
    Short Harp Solo [2008]

    Don’t often see this much talent on one stage —– blows me away – literally and figuratively!

    Down Home Shakedown

    Big Mama Thornton, John Lee Hooker, Shakey Horton & Dr Ross

  9. Listening to Miles Davis and John Coltrane….so it’s time to bid my adieu. Thanks everone for an enjoyable Music Night/Weird edition.
    Thanks especially to my Mom and Dad for “Lets get it on.” Be cool, and if you can’t, be as cool as you can be. Go Jolly.

  10. I wasn’t around last night to see this, but the guy in the middle of the album cover at the top of the thread was my former Congressman John Hall., the first professional musician elected to Congress.

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