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Tag Archives: 70’s

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*album download below*

I love Halloween but always wait until the last minute to figure out my costume. In the past few years I’ve been a piecemeal Walker Texas Ranger, an abridged version of The Dance Commander (twice), a shadowy representation your mom, and–when my locks flowed like the mighty Mississippi–a shoddy Andrew W.K.

This year the problem remains the same–what to be, what to be.

Maybe a Steve Jobs zombie? But then the decision becomes which Steve Jobs to reanimate.

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Uncle Steve Zombie?

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or is it….

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Evil Steve Zombie?

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or maybe even….

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Prep Hipster Steve Zombie, complete with Apple belt buckle-wearing Zombie Woz?

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I just can’t decide!

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>>>Click here to download Halloween Sound to Make You Shiver on MP3

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>>Also check out Disney’s take on Halloween Sound Effects here

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Tracklist 

A A Night In A Haunted House 15:02
B1 Witch Laugh 0:27
B2 Count Dracula And His Victim 0:26
B3 Screams 0:24
B4 Screams & Groans 0:31
B5 Moans & Groans 0:45
B6 Cats 0:46
B7 Dogs 0:39
B8 Banging Shutter 0:59
B9 Phantom Piano 2:03
B10 Creaky Door 0:18
B11 Breaking Windows 0:01
B12 Thunder 1:53
B13 Wind 2:47
B14 Frankenstein’s Monster Breaks Loose 1:11
B15 Hooting Owl 0:21

I wish more than anything that Slim Whitman was my grandpa. His mustache, while somewhat sinister to the untrained eye, would have been a constant source of comfort. The scent of sun-heated Brylcreem would evoke memories of neighborhood baseball games. The feel of rough nylon garnering flashbacks of sweet Slim hugs.

Imagine a visit to Grandpa Slim’s house, if you will. You’re 7-years-old and visiting Grandpa Slim’s plantation house during an early summer in rural northern Florida, just far enough from the swamps and their pesky mosquitos but still clear from the ruckus of the interstate. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Grandpa because he’s been on an extended tour in England. They love him in England, almost as much as you do. Your ma says that’s where the Queen lives in her castle.

The morning starts with Grandpa Slim gently waking you by softly yodeling the intro to “Indian Love Call”. Him and Gramawmaw Rose Marie always refer to you as their little Geronimo, their little blue-eyed chief. Your room at the plantation is set up with cowboy and indian wallpaper, leather-tinted shag carpet, and a bunk bed that’s built to look like a trail-tested Conestoga wagon. The closet if full of white jeans and heavily embroidered, pearl-buttoned shirts.



The day starts as any other day would with Grandpa and Gramawmaw. Honey-cured bacon, jumbo eggs sunnyside up, buttermilk biscuits, grits with salted butter n’ sugar, white toast with blackberry jam, and buckwheat pancakes with pecan maple syrup that’s all washed down with a big, cold glass of whole milk. A growing boy needs a hearty breakfast to see him through a big day and there aren’t many days bigger than Founder’s Day. You’re gonna need energy if you’re going to win the potato sack race this year.

Grandpa Slim opens the Founder’s Day celebration with the most heavenly rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” the South’s ever heard. Even the town’s general store owner and self-proclaimed Jefferson Davis historian Jacob Pearson was seen wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Yes, this year’s festivities are just going to be magical. You can just feel it.

As with every year the day starts out with the Daughters Of The Confederacy’s Annual Swamp Sunflower Pageant. There’s no prizes or ribbons given for the most beautiful Swamp Sunflower because competition is unbecoming of a southern belle.  However, Gramawmaw Rose Marie assures you that if there did happen to be a judge on hand her batch of swamp sunflowers would give Miss Annabelle Johnson’s wilted abominations a thorough shellacking.

Pageant is followed shortly by Troop 334′s Soapbox Derby Race down Cutler Hill. You watch on with cripping jealousy as the older kids race at breakneck speeds down the county’s biggest incline. A boy from Grant Intermediate wins first place and you watch with hungry eyes as he’s presented with a trophy that’s almost as tall as you. Grandpa Slim musses your hair and gives you a wink. “Don’t worry, Geronimo. That’ll be you before you know it, as sure as I’m standing here. Your grandpa’s got some old racing tricks up his sleeve. Yes sir, some real whoppers.”

The hole left in your gut from watching some punk kid take your rightful trophy is soon filled by lunchtime’s smorgasbord of Southern cuisine. Hot dogs, hamburgers, pulled pork, brisket, fried chicken, and bar-b-que ribs serve as the stage up on which corned pudding, oyster stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potato souffle, and coleslaw dance into your quickly ballooning belly. Just as your intestines are about to bust a seam, Gramawmaw Rose Marie sets a heaping plate of banana fosters and apple pie in front of your widening eyes. These delicacies soon disappear down a baby-tooth lined hatch, followed shortly tidal wave of Royal Crown Cola.

After lunch you listen to a little guitar strumming, courtesy of Grandpa Slim. “It aids with the digestives,” he says. Grandpa Slim lays down a  hoppin’ little diddy, left-handed on his six-string acoustic. The missing fingers on his left hand, the fingers that  (according to your Uncle Billy) got cut off turning a steer into a cheeseburger, always freak you out a little bit, but in a good way way. He’s like Frankenstein a little bit and Frankenstein’s pretty cool.

A little digestion is just what you needed because, after all, who wants to run in the Founder’s Day potato sack race with a full tummy? Last year’s second place finish was truly heartbreaking because that cheater Jimmy Willard used a Yukon Gold potato sack. Rules state only Idaho potato bags are allowed in the competition, everyone knows that. But when you cried foul Jimmy had already switched out bags. You don’t know how he did it without the judges seeing but he did. The sly little grin he poured down on you from from his advantageous position on the podium will be forever burned in your memory.

This year, though, Jimmy won’t be a problem because Jimmy’s dead. He took an unfortunate fall off of the big slide down at Seminole Park at the end of last summer. Only thing is, nobody knows Jimmy took that spill, nobody except you and Grandpa Slim. After you pushed him as he summited the slide’s last step, something you did with that sly little grin blinding your better judgment, Grandpa Slim had been there to clean up the mess.

With the same shovel he used to dig the concrete foundation for your basketball hoop, Grandpa Slim to buried Jiimmy Willard beneath the big oak that supports your treehouse. It’s Grandpa Slim’s and your little secret. Now, every time you go out to play secret agent in the treehouse you say you’re “going out to play with Jimmy,” and you and Grandpa Slim always have a good laugh.

With Jimmy now feeding that big oak you’re sure to win the potato sack race. Cheaters never really win, Grandpa Slim always says.

He really is the best Grandpa in the whole wide world!

>>>Click here to download Grandpa Slim’s Very Best

Tracklist

A1 Indian Love Call
A2 Ramblin’ Rose
A3 My Happiness
A4 Room Full Of Roses
A5 Blue Eyes Cryin’ In The Rain
A6 When My Blue Moon Turns Gold Again
A7 Have I Told You Lately That I Love You
A8 There Goes My Everything
A9 My Heart Cries For You
A10 Let Me Call You Sweetheart
B1 Rose Marie
B2 Vaya Con Dios
B3 Roses Are Red
B4 Somewhere My Love
B5 I Love You Because
B6 Una Paloma Blanca
B7 I Can’t Stop Loving You
B8 Sail Along Silvery Moon
B9 You Belong To My Heart
B10 Red River Valley

The awesome album cover copy on the Environments discs never ceases to amaze me. It’s always unintentionally serious and hilarious at the same time. You can check out another one posted on Rebuilt Tranny here and here.

The following copy is from the back of the album cover for volume three.

Side 1

Be-In (A Psychoacoustic Experience)

Sheep Meadow, Central Park, New York City

April 6, 1969

34 minutes, 17 seconds

Before the terrible fire. Details below.

The 1969 Easter Be-In in New York’s Central Park has come to be regarded as a sort of high-water mark for the new almost vanished Love Generation.

The tremendously diverse crowd kept growing and gathering momentum until almost everyone marveled at this spontaneous “thing” that had taken place in the park.

This Be-In was certainly not the biggest gathering of young people to take place in 1969. However, there are many things that happened during this recording that make it a rare, magical moment.

The recording captures with honesty and total realism this particular instant in time which in retrospect seems more than a bit unreal.

Be-In  is the real experience of running barefoot in the grass on a beautiful spring day, surrounded by thousands of half-innocents exhibiting little, if any, trace of paranoia or guilt.

If you were ever at a massive, totally spontaneous gathering in 1969, we think you know the feeling we mean.

This particular disc is unlike anything you’ve heard before; we call it a “psychoacoustic” experience”. It recreates an event with such realism that it actually seems to be happening again. We think that once you experience the total immersion of this encounter, you’ll agree with us that Be-In is something special.

The following video is an example of a rare, magical moment at Central Park in 1969.

Side Two

Dusk at New Hope, Pennsylvania

August, 1970

36 minutes, 51 seconds

Imagine a warm summer night deep in the verdant backwoods in Eastern Pennsylvania.

An infinity of sound stretching out before you. The steady, yet constantly changing drone of countless tiny insects, reminding you of the serenity and timelessness of nature. For in the distance, a hound occasionally barks.

You feel as if you are a thousand miles from the annoyances of city life.

If you can imagine such a night, you pretty much know what our recording of Dusk at New Hope is like.

This highly realistic stereo sound took almost a year of location work and patient testing to perfect. In its present form, it is a perfect compliment [sic] to other natural sound recordings in this series.

In an urban setting, we think you’ll be amazed by the profound changes that take place when you play the disc as a background sound. Many people find that the sounds of night in the country are second to none in creating a setting for increased interpersonal relationships.

Dusk at New Hope can be left on for very long periods of time without inducing fatigue or boredom. Once you become familiar with the sound, we are certain that you will find many new uses for the effect.

How do you make more crickets?

Bonus copy excerpts from the album gatefold.

Be-In

Later in the day, there would be rock throwing and confrontations with the small contingent of policemen nearby, and a terrible moment when a nude dancer leaped into a roaring bonfire, but for this moment in time, frozen on a real of magnetic tape, everyone seems together and happy.

Dusk at New Hope

A little known fact about field crickets is that it is possible to determine the ambient temperature of their surroundings to a fairly accurate degree by simply counting the number of chirps in a fifteen-second period and adding forty. Thus, we have deduced that the temperature at the time of the recording was approximately 65 degrees Fahrenheit. This formula works quite well for field crickets between the temperature range of 55 degrees and 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Above and below these temperatures the cricket no longer sings.

>>>Click here to download Environments Vol. 3 at 320kbps

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First, I need to say that you have to get this album. It kicks a million asses eight days a week.

Now that that’s out of the way I can start. This album contains a song you might all know: “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer.” Initially this was to be the focus of this album, and still is. However, what I decided to change was the types of alcoholic beverages highlighted in the post. The original idea was to pick my favorite bourbon, scotch, and beer and discuss their merits. However, this doesn’t make much sense given the context of the song.

Second, “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” is a cover of John Lee Hooker’s version, which is in turn a spin on Amos Milburn’s 1953 hit “One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer”. I was unaware of this for the longest time so here’s a video for the uninformed:

Third, I don’t want to  neglect any of the other equally good or better songs on this album. However, I’ve never been to Delaware, so I don’t really have any clever quips about “Deleware Slide”. I’m not going to write about how things songs sound, because it would do the song, and every other song on this album, a huge disservice. But it still deserves, no, demands a listen. So listen to it, goddamn it. And feel free to preview the few featured on this post.

Ok, enough lollygagging. One bourbon, one scotch, one beer. Which ones would you drink if you were broke, womanless/manless, and hitting an enviable 3 a.m. last call? Keep in mind all of the picks have to be cheap because you’re broke, remember? So, here are my picks:

One Bourbon

Bourbon snifter not included.

During my years in Cincinnati and Covington, KY I had a lot of experience with Bourbon. I mean A LOT of experience. I’ve tried over 50 types of bourbon since I was, ahem, 21. The actual number is locked away in a barrel in the back of my head. So, if I remember correctly, I’m kind of an expert.

During most trips to The Party Source or one of Covington’s 2 billion liquor stores I’d pick up a bottle of Old Heaven Hill Bonded. Bonded Bourbon’s the assortment that’s been stored in a government-secured storehouse for at least 4 years and packs 100 proof (50% alcohol) minimum. Old Heaven Hill’s aged for 10 years and only costs $9 for a fifth in Kentucky, which is absolutely ridiculous.

Heaven Hill is a major player in the distillery world and produces many of the finer Bourbons (Elijah Craig, Evan Williams, Fighting Cock, Henry McKenna, J. W. Dant, Old Fitzgerald) but its lowly Heaven Hill varieties rarely make it out of Kentucky. I’ve tried Heaven Hill Gold Label, Green Label, Black Label, and Old Heaven Hill Unbonded. They’re all great Bourbons for the buck and aren’t sweet like most cheap Bourbons. I need to get a few handles sent out West post haste.

That and a case of Ale-8-One: Kentucky’s soft drink and the absolute best mixer for Bourbon.

One Scotch

J&B

Ok, so not the cheapest scotch available, and I know I’m broke, but I still have to have some standards. J&B’s available at nearly every bar in the United States, is about the price of Jim Beam, and doesn’t taste like turpentine or swamp bog, which is what many expensive scotches taste like. J&B is all right by me.

Plus, it’s the favorite drink of Patrick Bateman. Patrick’s a man with a taste for Huey Lewis and the News, fine dining, and viciously murdering prostitutes. He’s a man who knows what he wants.

One Beer

Red Dog: A Class Act

Last night I met a brewer from Barcelona at one of the bars near my place. He’s in San Francisco for Beer Week and just wanted to talk and talk about his beer. It was really hard to figure out what he was saying because he was very drunk and had a super thick Catalan accent. Basically all I could understand was, “I love good beer, I love the hops!”

He kept pouring beer from one cup to another in attempts to aerate the brew and bring out the flavor. The only thing he succeeded in was spilling beer on the floor over and over. While this was happening his non-English speaking friend, who was wearing a turtleneck sweater and a backpack, danced like a 3-year-old in front of the soul-record-spinning DJ.

This wasted Barcelonian kept asking if we wanted to smoke weed or hash. Every now and then he’d slyly pull out these little nickel bags full of the stuff and give us a shit eating grin that said, “I’m a naughty boy, I love the herb!” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that you could light up a fat blunt on a school bus here and no one would give two shits. Seriously, I can’t walk a single block without smelling pot in this town.

I also didn’t have the heart to tell him that I used to only buy 30-packs of Red Dog in Kentucky for $13 dollars.

>>>Click here to download Awesomeness at 320 kbps

Tracklist

A1 You Got To Lose 3:15
Written-By – E. Hooker*
A2 Madison Blues 4:24
Written-By – E. James*
A3 One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer 8:20
Written-By – John Lee Hooker
A4 Kind Hearted Woman 3:48
Arranged By – George Thorogood
Written-By – Robert Johnson
A5 Can’t Stop Lovin 3:04
Written-By – E. James*
B1 Ride On Josephine 4:17
Written-By – E. McDaniel*
B2 Homesick Boy 3:02
Written-By – G. Thorogood*
B3 John Hardy 3:18
Arranged By – George Thorogood
Written-By – Traditional
B4 I’ll Change My Style 3:57
Written By – Parker-Villa
B5 Delaware Slide 7:45

There’s a big bucket of everything going on in this record. Carlos uses up to 48 “Dolbyized” tracks (including electronic/quasi-classical/ambient music composed and performed by Carlos along with environmental recordings including surf, birds, frogs, lightning, wind, rain, and anything else Mother Nature can cook up) at any given point in this monstrous psychoacoustic experiment. The whole effect simultaneously soothes and challenges the old noggin’ in the most curious way.

Here’s a simple way to describe it. Take one of Walter Carlos’ traditional early-electronic Moog pieces and mix it with one or two discs from the Environments series. Make sure they’re smooshed together nicely then board ‘em on Willy Wonka’s Psychedelic Boat Trip.

Only attempt in the company of a responsible adult. Or a frog bong.

Sonic Seasonings is a Double LP with four different “songs”, which are as follows:

Side 1: Spring (22:09 Minutes)

Side 2: Summer (21:31 Minutes)

Side 3: Fall (20:56 Minutes)

Side 4: Winter (20:31 Minutes)

Click here to download Sonic Seasonings from vinyl at 320 kbps

Update 1/4/11: Gerry Rafferty died today at the age of 63. He passed on peacefully at home with family. Thanks for the music, Gerry.

If you’re not familiar with Gerry Rafferty or with his song “Baker Street” you should first take a look-see at this video.

Please, allow your saxophone-induced erection to subside before reading the remainder of this post.

While researching this album I came across a couple of interesting pieces of information about Gerry Rafferty. First, Rafferty just recently suffered liver failure due to acute alcoholism and is in critical condition. Amazingly this isn’t the first time he’s suffered liver failure from overindulgence. Additionally, alcoholism has driven Rafferty to a life of seclusion; and perhaps made him a fan of George Thorogood. There have even been reports of him completely disappearing from time to time. All of this leads one to believe that, despite becoming a popular musician and selling over 5.5 million copies of City To City, Rafferty’s a lonely, depressed soul. Evidence of this is found in the lyrics of “Baker Street”.

Winding your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head, and dead on your feet
Well another crazy day
You drink the night away
And forget about everything
This city desert makes you feel so cold,
Its got so many people but its got no soul
And it’s taken you so long to find out you were wrong
When you thought it held everything

Baker Street, London, England

You used to say that it was so easy

But you’re tryin’, you’re tryin’ now
Another year and then you’d be happy
Just one more year and then you’d be happy
But you’re cryin’, you’re cryin’ now

Second, some people credit the sexophone solo in “Baker Street” with inciting the stampede of screaming reeds that ran rampant throughout 80′s pop. Music critic and historian Richard Ingham termed Rafferty’s sax influence the “Baker Street Phenomenon” in The Cambridge Companion To The Saxophone. Below is an excerpt from the book:

The year 1978 saw the appearance of what can only be described as the Baker Street phenomenon. An attractive but seemingly innocuous rock ballad, a hit for singer/composer Gerry Rafferty, was decorated by a handful of notes turned into an eight-bar phrase at the beginning and between verses.

No one really knows why, but following the success (and consequent air-play) of this number, it seemed that every self-respecting band had to include a saxophone.

Soon after that an enormous percentage of TV advertisements had a sultry tenor or wailing alto taking prominence, and in the mid 1980s the saxophone became the most popular instrument for youngsters starting out. Rafael Ravenscroft, the player in question, can thus be said to have initiated the biggest boom in saxophone sales since the craze of the 1920s.

This [testifies] to the power of the mass media, as well as the music itself, and follows in a direct line Acker Bilk, whose Stranger on the Shore was responsible for a generation of clarinet players, and later James Galway with Annie’s Song, similarly providing flute players.

It seemed that Baker Street legitimised (sic) the saxophone in mainstream pop, instead of being an extra instrument on loan from jazz. Almost the best part of this whole story is the fact, like many inventions, it appeared quite by chance.

The band were recording the number, and Rafael Ravenscroft was booked to do a session on soprano (heard briefly in the introduction). Having completed this, they were still waiting for the guitarist to arrive, who was due to record the now famous opening phrases. Time passed and Ravenscroft mentioned that he had an alto in the car if that would do as a substitute for the guitar. It was found to be satisfactory.

It’s hard to imagine the 80s without all the gratuitous sax. Hard, but somewhat cathartic. Here’s a good list of the best of the worst saxual songs from the cocaine decade.

Finally, Gerry Rafferty is a total hipster.

Beard…check. Big glasses…check. Forlorn stare into nothingness…check. Systems check complete: Hipster is a go.

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>>>Click here to download City To City at 320 KBPS

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Tracklist

1 The Ark 5:40
Electric Guitar – Jerry Donahue
Fiddle, Mandolin – Graham*
Vocals [Intro] – Bashwhackers, The
2 Baker Street 6:08
Lead Guitar [Lead Electric] – Hugh*
Rhythm Guitar [Rhythm Electric] – Nigel Jenkins
Saxophone – Raphael Ravenscroft
Synthesizer [Moog] – Tommy*
3 Right Down The Line 4:28
4 City To City 5:03
Acoustic Guitar [Acoustic] – Gerry*
Backing Vocals – Gary Taylor (4) , John McBurnie , Rab Noakes , Roger Brown (3) , Vivian McAuliff*
Fiddle – Graham*
Harmonica – Paul Jones
Tambourine – Hugh Murphy
5 Stealin’ Time 5:57
Acoustic Guitar [Acoustics] – Gerry* , Micky Moody
Grand Piano, Synthesizer [Moggs] – Tommy*
Steel Guitar – Brian Cole*
Synthesizer [String Machine] – Graham*
6 Mattie’s Rag 3:29
Accordion – Woody*
Resonator Guitar [Dobro] – Brian*
Synthesizer [String Machine], Fiddle, Arranged By [Brass Section Arranged By] – Graham*
7 Whatever’s Written In Your Heart 6:36
Backing Vocals – Joanna Carlin
8 Home And Dry 4:56
Lead Guitar – Nigel*
9 Island 5:14
Accordion – Willy Ray
Drums – Glen Le Fleur*
Saxophone [Sax] – Raphael*
10 Waiting For The Day 5:45
Bass – Gary Taylor (4)
Drums – Henry Spinnetti*
Electric Guitar [Electric Rhythm] – Andy Fairweather-Low
Electric Piano, Organ, Arranged By [Bass Arrangements] – Tommy Eyre
Fiddle – Graham Preskett
Lead Guitar, Rhythm Guitar – Hugh Burns
Percussion – Glen Le Fleur*
Piano, Vocals – Gerry Rafferty

Tonight I had the privilege of attending karaoke night at Mason Pub in Mason, OH. Mason is one of the newly-blossomed suburbs outside of Cincinnati which serves as a safe haven for the nouveau riche. At nearly 25 miles outside of the heart of downtown its location puts the township just close enough for MBAs to commute down I-71 to the Chiquita headquarters in Cincy.

This distance also puts Mason clear outside bullet reach of Cincinnati’s infamous Over-The-Rhine, which last year was declared the most dangerous neighborhood in the entire United States. That’s a pretty impressive title for the 24th most populous city in the country.

Standard issue for Chiquita’s middle management.

So Mason is a pretty comfy, money-soaked little township. So much so that it’s been the host a few years running for Cincinnati’s Home-A-Rama, which is a disgusting exhibition of the “creative” limits of McMansionry.

Ok, so back to my original point. Tonight at karaoke I heard songs that you could have heard screeched and bellowed by anyone in any city at any shitty wannabee UFC fighter haunt. I heard some Evanescence, some Journey, some *gag* *spit* *eyes watering* *hurl* Nickelback sung by girls in too-tight pants and dudes in highly-embroidered Tapout t-shirts.

It wasn’t so much that the music was terrible, because it was. So terribly awful. It’s just that it’s all so unoriginal. There really isn’t anything left that a city can call its own. Especially music because most radio stations are owned by national or international parent companies. And even worse many people still get their music from…the MTV.

“I tried so hard, and got so far….”

What I’m getting at is that nearly 40 years ago, when this album came out, Mason was an entirely different place. Mentioning the word “subdivision” to the locals would have been akin to speaking Chinese. It was all farms and state routes as far as the eye could see. There weren’t any Applebee’s, there weren’t any Wal-Marts, no internets and certainly no Jap shit called a Kerry Okey. There were locally owned businesses and locally grown music ripe for the pickin’.

When people got together at local watering holes they’d rock a  jukebox loaded 45s or, perhaps during post-harvest celebrations, had a DJ playing singles with the occasional LP request. It would’ve been music that ‘d been picked specifically because it meshed with the locals’ (farmers and laborers) taste of music. I imagine their jukebox would have been packed with Elvis, some Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, and perhaps this new band out of Cincinnati called Pure Prairie League that had this bitchin’ new song “Amie”.

When I’m at places like Mason Pub I like to try and transport myself into the past and think what it would have been like listening to yesteryear’s new music while getting sloshed. Instead of listening to LMFAO’s “Shots” I would be raising my glass and voice to “Amie”. I wouldn’t be wearing jeans and a T but work boots and overalls. The tread of those boots would be filled with a hard-days-worth of manure and my hands rough from wrastling all types of domestic mammals. Shoulders bronzed, hair sunkissed, and neglected teeth which would glimmer dully as the chorus escaped from their huge gaps:

Amie, what you wanna do,

I think I could stay with you,

or a while or maybe longer

If I Do 

Ah, the good ol’ days.

…longer if I do, indeed.

>>Click here to download “Amie” and it’s companion intro song “Falling In And Out Of Love”

*download near the bottom*

This is the third Tomita posting on this website, so I think it’s safe to say that I’m a big fan of his work. His primitive analog exudes a very primal aura. It’s as if he’s torturing circuits to get the sound he wants. Not run of the mill circuits, mind you, that harvest AC and DC in the fields for a living. No, he’s kidnapped gifted mezzo-soprano diodes from belly of a Sansui G-33000 Monster Receiver to whip and waterboard into fulfilling his deviant intent.

Alistair Tibbins: Tomita’s Circuit Slave Trader

But as much as I love Tomita’s music it could be said that his album artwork rivals the songs in artistic merit. Take a good long look at the album cover above. True beauty and honesty: man flesh peeling away to expose robot thoughts and emotion. I think this may be the first time that the anatomy of a Japanese was accurately diagrammed. Until 1979 the scientific community was under the assumption that Japanese people were composed of warm flesh from surface to core. Tomita must have felt it was his duty to bring the truth to light and shed the shame of centuries past. What a burden it must have been for Isao Tomita to expose his magnesium manbits, and in effect the wiry privates of all Japanese citizens, to the entire world and end cyborg discrimination.

Almost as much as a burden as trying to understand why someone would set Tomita’s “Star Wars Theme” to photographs of Tubby comic book covers.

So, take your mind off of the bulbous animations of Tubby with a collection of album covers help compose Greatest Hits (with a few others as well).

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Click here to download the Tomita’s Greatest Hits

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Here’s two other Tomita albums for download on Rebuilt Tranny Records:

Pictures At An Exhibition

The Tomita Planets

Bonus Vids:

Tracklist

A1 “Star Wars” Main Title 3:04
A2 Clair De Lune (Suite Bergamasque, No. 3) 5:48
A3 Close Encounters Of The Third Kind 2:21
A4 Golliwog’s Cakewalk (Children’s Corner, No. 6) 2:50
A5 The Planets: Mars, The Bringer Of War 7:44
B1 Space Fantasy 1:58
B2 Hora Staccato 3:29
B3 Symphony No. 5: 2nd Movement (Allegro Marcato) 5:14
B4 Firebird Suite: Infernal Dance Of King Kastchei 4:08
B5 Pictures At An Exhibition: Great Gate Of Kiev 6:14

 

Michael, we need to talk.

Time-traveling message sent to Michael Jackson

September 10, 1979

Quincy Jones’ Pool Party

Dear Michael,

I would like to start this letter with congratulations. “Off The Wall” is truly a masterpiece. It’s taken you clear from the shadow of The Jackson Five and made you a man all your own. Years from now children will see your video for “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” on VH1 Classic and be forever changed. They will say, “Man, Usher was really skinny when he was a kid. What mom? That’s not Usher? That’s Michael Jackson?! No way. No fucking way mom I will not watch my tongue, you lying bitch. That is not Michael Jackson! You’re not my real mom!”

Yes, you are on the path to unparalleled success. You’ll outsell every other musician that ever lived, accumulate unimaginable wealth, and garner the praise and respect of the entire world. But, for the love of everything that is good and decent, please stop whatever the fuck you’re doing and listen up. Seriously, or you will slowly but surely morph into this boy-tickling hobgoblin: 

Yes Michael, soak it in.

Ok, I didn’t really want to have to do that but it’s for your own good. I’m sending this message because that creature up there is what I want to prevent. However, the reasons for this terrible transformation aren’t entirely clear. No one can pinpoint the exact moment when you stopped being a talented black musician and became a soulless, brilliantly white devil….it kind of just happened before any of us could legally do anything about it. Maybe you’re thinking about using some strange cologne that uses the pituitary gland of a human fetus for an extra kick? I don’t know, that was just a wild guess.

What I can do is give you a glimpse of what is to come with the hopes that one of these tidbits of premature hindsight will spark some change within you. Let us pray.

1) You will befriend a chimpanzee. He will be named Bubbles.

Now, don’t take this lightly. Yes, Chimpanzees can be intelligent. They can also be adorable, especially when you pop a vintage flying helmet on their tiny heads.

Don’t let your guard down, Michael!

But chimps can also rip your entire face off in 5 seconds flat!

It’s important that you don’t let your guard down around presumably friendly mammals. Bubbles may just be a cute little chimp in cute chimp clothing. And maybe he won’t rip off your face.

Instead, he’ll rip out your humanity!!!

2) You will play dancing monkeyboy for a megalomaniacal, chimp-loving actor.

“Doesn’t he remind you of Bonzo in that cute little outfit, dear?”

Nobel Prize-Worthy

3) You will do the impossible and make wedding receptions even more completely terrible. So insanely fucking terrible.

4) You will be menacingly pursued by pint-sized actor Joe PesciShortly after you’ll turn into a goofy looking Italian concept car.

5) You will give everyone a general sense of the creeps.

6) Your creepiness will be the butt of rotund comical yarns.

Please Michael, take this warning to heart. I mean really like wearing my novelty Michael Jackson T-Shirt:

But I wish I could have seen you Moonwalk well into your 90s.

>>>Click here to download OFF THE WALL on 320 kbps MP3 from vinyl <<<LINK REPEATEDLY REMOVED BY LATOYA JACKSON…CHECK BACK IN THE NEAR FUTURE FOR DEVELOPMENTS

Tracklist

A1 Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough 6:02
Arranged By [Horns], Flugelhorn, Trumpet – Jerry Hey
Arranged By [Percussion, Rhythm, Vocals], Backing Vocals, Co-producer, Lead Vocals, Percussion, Written-by – Michael Jackson
Arranged By [Rhythm], Electric Piano – Greg Phillinganes
Arranged By [Strings] – Ben Wright*
Backing Vocals [Additional] – Augie Johnson , Jim Gilstrap , Mortonette Jenkins , Paulette McWilliams , Zedric Williams
Bass – Louis Johnson
Concertmaster – Gerald Vinci
Drums – John Robinson (2)
Flute, Saxophone [Alto, Tenor] – Larry Williams
Flute, Saxophone [Baritone, Tenor] – Kim Hutchcroft
Guitar – David Williams (4) , Marlo Henderson
Percussion – Paulinho Da Costa , Randy Jackson , Richard Heath
Performer [Horns] – Seawind Horns, The
Trombone – William Reichenbach*
Trumpet – Gary Grant Read More »

If you’ve been watching any local television stations lately you’ve probably noticed a terrible wave of slime and filth creeping into the commercial breaks. Tis the season, once again, for political attack campaigns! From now until November you get to hear all sorts of bogus statistics from bogus reports by bogus Committees or Bureaus or Centers for Goobernatorial research on Back Alley Hand Job Growth.

You’ll also have to bear witness to unflattering photos of a candidate’s opposition, preferably when the (Nancy Pelosi-worshipper/John Boehner-stroker) is eating, sneezing or squeezing out yesterday’s Pickle Loaf and Pepper Jack on Pumpernickel.

There will also be pics of confused and shriveled seniors who were duped by Washington Fat Cats into paying a penny-out-of-pocket for a Hoveround.

There will be handshaking. Oh God, will there ever be handshaking.

Pleased to meet you!

Candidates will be seen smiling, with sleeves rolled up, while rubbing elbows with factory workers to feign giving two shits about the working man. And, in some instances, those factory workers will be tragically topless.

There will be bullshit. Heaping helpings dumped on our heads from the left and the right. And before we know it we’ll all be drowning…and buddy, your vote ain’t no life raft.

So, if you’re fed up with all of the terrible, frothing political crap spewing from your television, apply a few drops of this salve directly to your ear drums. It comes in the form of common sense wisdom, poems, and jokes delivered in Southern drawl by former North Carolina Senator Sam Ervin.

If you’ve never heard of Senator Sam let me give you a real quick tutorial. He was instrumental in heading the committees that exposed the illegal and unethical practices of the two biggest dickheads in 20th Century American Politics: Senator Joe McCarthy, Founder of McCarthyism and the Red Scare, and Richard Nixon, Dickhead Numero Uno.

And, as a “Country Lawyer”, as he liked to call himself, he loved telling a story or two about good old Southern moonshine. Here’s a short one from the album.

But he also liked to stay hip with the times. Here we find him reciting the lyrics to Paul Simon’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” after giving a little prologue about what friendship is all about.

I invite you to download this album, pour yourself a stiff glass of Old Weller 107 Bourbon, and relax as your absorb a little southern comfort from good ol’ Senator Sam

**

>>>Click here to download Senator Sam At Home to MP3

**

A1 Zeke And The Snake 1:40
A2 Friendship 1:50
A3 Bridge Over Troubled Water 2:32
  Written-By – Paul Simon
A4 The Fault Of Conformity 1:50
A5 Southern Heroes (“Defeat May Serve”) 1:50
  Written-By – Edwin Markham
A6 If 1:50
  Written-By – Rudyard Kipling
Medley
A7.1 Grow Tall, My Son 1:23
  Words By – Loonis McGlohon
A7.2 Through The Years
  Music By – Al Ham
A8 Cousin Sue And The U.D.C. 1:23
A9 The First Amendement 1:05
A10 John And Mandy And The Strikin’ Clock 2:53
A11 Myself 0:33
  Written-By – Edgar A. Guest*
A12 Philosophy Of Life 2:02
B1 The Hymn Book And Link Shaw’s Singin’ 2:06
B2 The Old Rugged Cross 3:45
  Arranged By – Al Ham
Written-By – George Bennard
B3 Thoughts On Religion (“More Faith In Honest Doubt”) 2:18
  Written-By – Alfred Lord Tennyson
B4.1 If I Had A Hammer 1:45
  Written-By – Lee Hays , Pete Seeger
B4.2 America The Beautiful
  Arranged By – Al Ham
B5 Comments: Elbert Hubbard, W. C. Fields, Josh Billings 0:47
B6 General Jim Leach And The Mount Vernon Hotel 3:10
B7 Country Ham 0:10
B8 Jus’ Right Likker 0:34
B9 The Greatest Hunger Of The Human Heart 2:56
B10 Thoughts On Shakespeare 0:30
B11 Joshua 1:34
B12 The Drunk Driver 1:04
B13 God Give Us Men 1:20
  Written-By – Josiah Gilbert Holland
B14 The Last Verse Of Our National Anthem 1:25