Gibberish Is Apparently Rather Catchy
Subjected once again to the shite on the radio, I noticed this evening at work that the Police’s song De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da is really very insulting to our intelligence. I can see how the non-listeners who have it on in the background would just accept its existence, especially given how many times we’ve heard over the past few decades. But when I really listened to it, it pissed me off.
And how did this tripe become a classic track, included on every Greatest Hits collection by this band? Because the track itself shows the band laying down one helluva groove. But they should’ve chucked that goof out on his ear the night he brought those lyrics to practice. It’s toothless ranting about politicians and being raped by words (?!?!) surrounded by a chorus of baby talk. Seriously, if that’s all you want to say to us, Sting, why make a song about it? Why not just stagger down rain-soaked streets in a drunken stupor and slur it at people? Yeesh.
Cuttin’ Back On The Ol’ Road Rage Reflex
Idiots. I know you’re out there. Blithely trundling along, oblivious to the world around you, negligent of the fact that you just made a right-hand turn from the left-hand lane DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME. I see you on your cell phone. I see you fixing your hair. Yes, while you’re driving you’re doing this! And I know you’re usually lucky to be able to simultaneously walk and breathe, so why you imagine you can multi-task further is beyond my ken. Nevertheless, I know you’re out there, and the temptation to run you off the road, drag you back onto it and then run you off of it again is so very strong indeed.
But, I am above you. Oh yes! I will not stoop to your dung-licking, sock-sucking level. No, I have filled my portable MP3 player, Weed King, with all the Jack Johnson albums. So now when you cut me off, I just shake my head and smile, knowing that you’ll go off on your ignorantly insignificant little way and have your life-altering (surely someone else’s fault, right?) accident somewhere else, on your own time. It affects me no more. You cannot burst my bubble. Turns out, Jack Johnson is the ultimate fuck you.
When I Am King, You Will Be First Against The Wall
Hahaha Miley Cyrus is all upset ‘cos radiohead wouldn’t meet her backstage at the Grammys. She even said she’d “ruin them,” by word of mouth! Ooooo, I’ll bet they’re really scared. You know, sometimes there’s stuff in the music news that just makes me laugh until my sides hurt, and this is definitely one of those times. What a tool.
We Can All Only Dream, For Now
I love Pavement. I know you do, too. Their inevitable split was a sad, sad period for music. I don’t know if they’ll ever get back together, but even just the thought of (almost) all of them in the same room together made me very very happy, indeed. And congrats, Bob!
Stubbs BBQ Just Became A Shrine
You know how you have those dreams, the one where the perfect concert experience happens and you’re front-row center? You can fill in your own blanks with your own specifics, I know you’ve daydreamed about whatever floats your boat in this scenario many times.
To me, it’s hard to pick just one. But seeing Metallica in Stubbs BBQ with 2100 of my closest friends would bloody well be right the hell up there.
Imagine it. Look at that set-list. Jeez, Louise. Fuckin’ A.