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Friday Bad Fry

Gonna start posting some music links around here on a regular basis – my personal rebellion against the absolute shite that seems to infect the planet these days, from anything first seen on American Idol to Lady Gaga. Music used to be about people who could play an instrument and write some goddamn lyrics that had something more going for them than, “Gimme more, gimme more, gimme gimme gimme more,” or, “I wanna be your poker face…your po-po-poker face….poker face, poker face, po-po-po-poker face.”
So, you can expect to find a broad range of artists posted here that you’ll either already know (presuming you have some taste) or need to know (presuming you don’t…or were neglected in terms of musical education).
In any case, to kick things off, some funky Little Feat.

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5 Responses

  1. “Music used to be about people who could play an instrument and write some goddamn lyrics that had something more going for them than, “Gimme more, gimme more, gimme gimme gimme more,” or, “I wanna be your poker face…your po-po-poker face….poker face, poker face, po-po-po-poker face.”

    You forgot about singing. But who needs singing when you have Autotune to do it for you? Actual talent means fuck all these days. It’ s all about looks and marketability. Meaning means nothing and nothing is meaningful.

    For example, take Tom Waits. Tom Waits can’t really sing. He mutters/growls in tune. Therefore, he had to make up the difference with hard work and a style that emphasized the music, the lyrics and the generally swampy/ dark/smoky imagery he created. Yet, he’s made some great stuff over the years and even sold quite a few records along the way.

    If he was a young pup starting his career today, he’d have a hell of time just getting signed. He’d certainly be forced to stick to one style and it wouldn’t be the one he had. He’d have to get a shit load of tattoos and piercings, wear jewelry worth the average American’s salary and growl crude lyrics about bling, bitches and committing random acts of violence. Either that or, or he’d have to get plastic surgery, dress in the latest fashion trends and sing simplistic Auto-tunes about sugary love.

    And his agent would be trying to get him or his music into commercials, because as Waits once said “Apparently, the highest compliment our culture grants artists nowadays is to be in an ad — ideally, naked and purring on the hood of a new car.”

    • Tom Waits can sing. Not like Frank or Tom Jones or Etta…but when you get past the whiskey soaked broken glass on gravel that is Tom’s voice, you realize the motherfucker can hit the notes.

      Picture in a Frame
      Little Trip to Heaven
      Take it With Me When I Go

      Tom can sing the ass out of a song.

      • Yeah, I meant that in the traditional notion of singing.

        Waits doesn’t sing the way a Gretzky or Lemieux played hockey. He sings the way Bobby Clarke played hockey. While talented, he does it all on effort. He goes into the corners, mixes it up and does whatever it takes to get that note in the net. He’s not afraid to lose a few teeth in the process of getting that winner…and might even prefer it that way.

        (I dug out that old school Canadian analogy, just for you.)

        • Dat’s de t’ing, eh, b’y? Don’t need teef for beer or maple syrup.

          Awaiting your pith and vinegar over on Fuck Your Theocracy when you find time.

  2. Tom Waits sounds like god gargling with rusted nails and acid. He is the full package – watch the emotion in some of his older performances, read his lyrics (there ain’t no devil, its just god when he is drunk), etc. Hell the man has talent. If I think of the complete artist, then Tom Waits feature in there somewhere…

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