Frank Zappa was right. Thanks to him, I haven't listened to mainstream radio in 30+ years. The last thing in the World I want is some fucking berserk, coked-up, idiot, screaming at me that: "Crazy Eddie is Having Another Going Out Of Business Fire Sale!" in between thumping Mega Bass "Songs." (Songs? Not.) I abhor commercials. I mute them on television as well. I already KNOW what I want to buy and where I'm buying it, Homeslice.
The last "Rap" Artiste I truly enjoyed was Gil Scott Heron. Now, THAT was some serious shit.
This is "how out-of-touch with the mainstream 'culture' of today's Mod-Au-Go-Go United States" El Doctor de Pescados Anchovies truly is. If this is what passes for "culture," count me out, color me gone.
"Where the Hell is Sista' Arbulah, when ya' need her?" Paraphrasing Frank Zappa, from: "Thingfish." She'd slap some sense into the Boyz.
Fucking incredible. This "society" is turning into an uneducated, posse of marble-mouthed, jive-assed, no-thinkin', Salad-Tossers, that can't even speak their own damned language. Or balance a checkbook, read anything more complex than a comic book but: "They's sho' can stack 'dem sum papah, Yo."
I have a sordid, candid, admission here too: I WAS a White Punk On Dope. We just didn't live in Hollywood although, my Dad did go to Hollywood High School. In the late 40's. I guess that "doesn't really count." I did work part of the Tubes' GIGANTIC Stage Show in the mid 70's. Five costume changes, dancing girls, Fee in 2' high platform soles, etc., etc.. You know the deal. HUGE lighting rig. 5 follow spots. I led that part of The Crew. The Tour In Question follows. Note: I was not on this lighting Crew. We didn't do any S.F. Shows. Skip forward to about 43:00 for the Quay Lude Costume Part(s). Warning: There was nudity and general debauchery at this show. Hey, it was Winterland and The Tubes are a Hometown Favorite.
Now, for a commercial break:
Once, while in the parking lot of a grocery store of a local supermarket here in my backwater Northern California Town, I witnessed a horrifying sight. It even had a (somewhat intelligible) soundtrack. Two lower class (bad teeth, cheap haircuts, mouth breathers) Wonder Bread Kidz inna' Hood were "low riding" through the lot, blasting some truly offensive shit out of their beat-up old p.o.s. Buick, or whatever it used to be before they totally fucked it up by heating the coil springs so the asshole of the thing drug the ground and high-centered on speed bumps. Anyway, there's this "Nigga', Ah'm Gunna' Git Mah Gat An' Blow Yo' Ass Away" crap rattling the screws out of the license plate mounts and the kids are so slouched down in their seats that the driver is, literally, looking through the steering wheel to see where he's going and if they're impressing any Ho's. I look next to me and there's this guy, about my age and we're both giggling to ourselves at the Wonder Bread-Mobile and The Kidz. He turns to me and says: "I'm really glad there was someone else around to witness that spectacle." I just put my tongue in my cheek and shook my head in disbelief of said "spectacle." We both walked away, laughing.
Now, don't get me wrong here...I am not a Racist. Nor a Countercultureophobe. I likes me some really weird shit. It just isn't THAT shit. To justify both of those statements: I worked as a professional fundraiser for years. One of the accounts I really enjoyed working for was the Southern Poverty Law Center. Morris Dees and his wrecking crew of lawyers that pretty much single-handedly brought down the KKK. I have a framed "Certificate Of Appreciation", hand signed from Morris, on my living room wall, thanking me for the work I did for them. It's pretty close to a photo of J. Edgar Hoover with a telephone in his hand. Just to remind me that I: "Love my country but, fear my government." Secondly, I am currently listening to The Melvins with Jello Biafra. If THAT isn't Counter Culture, nothing is.
Furthermore, I was absolutely THE Weirdest Kid At My High School. No shit. I could tell you a few stories but, they don't serve any purpose here. You'll just have to "take it on faith." As if.
Now, "Shut the fuck up, move around and pretend you're 'dancing' or something." Spaz on, Homies!
We be bumpin'o'sumpin' now, Sho' 'Nuff,
-Doc (A Crabby, Old Person, sometimes)
Another side of my preferred listening habits:
No comments:
Post a Comment