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Archive for the ‘Music’ Category

80’s Music

Posted by Bob Kohm on July 12, 2009

Saw a great, kitschy 80’s tribute band last night at a cool venue in Virginia. The interesting thing was that their playlist, which ranged from Cyndi Lauper to Ozzy to The Clash and Madonna, was all pulled off without a hitch. If a single band can play so many different types of music from a single era so well, it begs the question– was the band really that good, or was 80’s music that bad?


Posted in Music | 1 Comment »

He Said What?

Posted by Bob Kohm on March 14, 2009

Because, if you’re like me, you’ve always wondered.

Come on, Eileen

Poor old Johnny Ray, sounded sad upon the radio;
Broke a million hearts in mono.
Oh our mothers cried, sang along, who can blame them?

You’ve grown (You’re grown up)
So grown. (So grown up.)
Now I must say more than ever.

(Come on, Eileen.)
Toora, loora, toora loorye aye.
We gonna sing just like our fathers.

Come on, Eileen,
Oh I swear (well he means) at this moment
You mean ev’rything.
You in that dress,
my thoughts, I confess,
verge on dirty.
Ah, Come on Eileen.

Come On, Eileen.

These people round here
Wear beaten down eyes sunk in a smoke dried face
So resigned what their fate is,
But not us (no never),
no, not us (no never),
we are far too young and clever.


Toora, loora, toora, loorye, aye.
Eileen, I’ll hum this tune forever.

Come on, Eileen,
Oh I swear (well he means)
Ah come on let’s
take off everything,
that pretty red dress, Eileen (Tell him yes)
Ah come on let’s, ah come on, Eileen,
Pleassse …

Come On, Eileen, Tooloorye aye
Come On, Eileen, Tooloorye, aye, toora.

Now you’re all grown (toora), Now you (toora) have shown (toora),
Oh! Eileen.
Said, you’ve (You) grown (toora) (it’s strange that our feelings have grown),
so grown (toora) (about how you feel)!

Now (toora) I (toora) must (toora) say (toora) more (toora) than ever,
things round here will change.

I said, Toora (toora), loora, toora (toora), loorye (toora), aye (toora, toora, toora).

Come on, Eileen,
oh I swear (well he means) at this moment.
You mean ev’rything.
You in that dress,
my thoughts (I confess)
verge on the dirty.

Ah, come on, Eileen.

Come on, Eileen,
oh I swear (well he means) at this moment.
You mean ev’rything.
You in that dress,
Oh, my thoughts (I confess)
verge on the dirty.

Come on, Eileen,
oh, ho, ho, (well he means) oh, ho, ho …

Posted in Cultural Phenomena, Music | Leave a Comment »

Bruce Springsteen and the Cult Of Audio Idiocy

Posted by Bob Kohm on February 2, 2009

Some people have no capacity for sheer enjoyment.

After Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band’s performance at the Super Bowl last night, I was confronted with one of my least favorite types of music snobs– the one who can’t simply enjoy the music but has to crap all over it out of a sense of superiority. A friend of a friend posted to Facebook that Springsteen once again proved how “awful” he was and opined that everybody who enjoyed him was a “moron”.

Now let’s be honest– I couldn’t care any less for the musical taste of some random bozo with access to Facebook; it’s a free country and you can listen to whatever you want. Finding out that said bozo was the progeny of a Daddy who had an extensive music collection and thus felt he was entitled to pass judgement on the musical taste of others– now that was annoying in the same way that the Holiday Inn Express genius commercials are annoying.

Toss the name Bruce Springsteen out amongst the musically pretentious and you are bound to hit three of these dopes– people who despise whatever is popular by virtue of its popularity. According to these dilettantes, if the unwashed masses find something enjoyable then it can enjoy no merit of its own– if the musical swine like it, it must be slop. These twits always seem to forget that it is swine who also find truffles.

Whether it is Springsteen or the Beatles or the White Stripes, there is always some fatal flaw that these fools must imagine, some obscure band that they and 17 other brother schmucks have heard of from a website that went down for good three days ago that does it far better or from whom the star act stole their material. I imagine it makes them feel good, feel somehow superior to eschew the band or singer that world has recognized as great and instead revere three meth addicts from Tacoma who couldn’t buy a pack of Twinkies with their career earnings- which of course makes them so much the greater as they haven’t sold out, man.

Here’s reality, Facebook Boy– there are so many great acts out there that nobody has ever heard of that you can stop pretending that you’ve uncovered the greatest band of all time but that you’re the only one who can recognize them due to the anarcho-fascist music industry holding down the talent. It doesn’t make you intelligent or make you seem to have fantastic taste– it makes you an overinflated gasbag in need of catastrophic deflation, preferably with a Slayer keyring.

People love Bruce Springsteen– did you see how the stadium reacted to the man last night? That’s because people love his music. Unless you’re endeavoring to mathematically analyze music and identify the track that adheres most seamlessly to the divine ratio, then please shut the hell up and stop telling us that we’re all wrong and you’re the only possible arbiter of musical taste. It’s music– if it is loved, it is doing exactly what music or any artform is supposed to do. It’s eliciting a reaction.

You, on the other hand, are inducing nausea. I’ll try not to throw up all over your father’s record collection while remembering for the hundreth time that proximity to people with taste is no indication of someone actually having any.

Posted in Cultural Phenomena, Events, Jerks, Music | Tagged: , , , | 7 Comments »

Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Jesse James… Polka Dancers?

Posted by Bob Kohm on January 12, 2009

The things you learn watching kid’s TV. While enjoying surviving an episode of the Backyardigans tonight with the kids while Beth was at her Inauguration training session, I was amazed to see two of my least favorite things– animated, amorphously shaped talking animals and polka music– combined into one story. As luck would have it, our heroes were cast in a story about frontier days in Wyoming– they had to escort their worm friend, Sherman, to the Cheyenne Polka Palace for a surprise party. Gack… but wait a minute… was the polka really a relic of the Old West? Demanding accuracy in all things, I had to find out.

Let’s just say that when Jesse James pointed his six-shooter at the feet of a rival and drawled “Dance, pahdner”… he was firing off rounds to the mental soundtrack of the Beer Barrel Polka.

Have I said “Gack” lately? Wyatt Earp dancing with some saloon girl to the strains of oompah music? Billy the Kid getting the Jenny Lind Polka stuck in his head? For the love of god.

Yes, in the end our Western soundtrack wasn’t some proto-Merle Haggard tune or a lonely guitar playing into the night but rather that cherished touchstone of all things Cleveland, the polka. Amazing that Sergio Leone missed that, eh? The Good, the Bad, the Ugly… the Polka.

Posted in American History, Just Annoying, Movies, Music | Tagged: , , , , , , | 9 Comments »

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