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Tag Archives: Funk


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.



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 »

This album is funky. It has a solid funk foundation…think if Ohio Players and Donna Summers had a baby…a really sweaty baby. This moist infant was funky enough to be sampled in the Beastie Boys track “Shake Your Rump”.

Fun facts are all well and good for funk aficionados but I am only concerned with two things. Two things that, with a single flash, could put an end to all famine and strife on our planet and bring the Earth’s brothers and sisters together in a thousand-year reign of sexual satisfaction.

Those two things, of course, are the left and right eyes set deeply in the skull of Harvey Scales.

I just want a nibble, baby.

Well hello there, I’m glad you could make it. My grandmother calls me Harvey but you can call me Hot Foot. No, wait, don’t leave baby just sit down! You don’t want to sit? Ok, that’s fine…you stand right there and I’ll drink you all in. You’re a tall drink of water, haha. Yeah, tall and sweet like grandmama’s summertime peach tea. I bet I could finish you in one gulp too, girl, haHA! No, wait, baby don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry come back. I promise I’ll mind my manners. Yeah, I’m sorry girl…I’ll just take baby sips and mind my manners. Yeah, that’s better. You want to blow your nose on my handkerchief? You sure. Baby, it’s silver, you sure? Ok that’s fine baby. Damn your hair looks soft…where you get it done? Trina’s? No? That Korean place down on the corner of 7th and Broadway? Can I smell it…it looks fragrant…fragrant like Egyptian Cocoa Butter…No wait baby please don’t call the police!

Beware the bramble patch past witching hour!

Yes, girl, your car keys are somewhere here within the confines of my all-expenses-paid Safari Suite. Maybe they’re under that gen-u-wine zebra-skin rug. Hmmm, no…no. They probably under that shining mountain of highly flammable jumpsuits in the corner. Baby, we could look all day and never find them in that synthetic mish-mash of lapels and zippers but why? We should just relax in this loveseat made of gazel butts, sip on this big ass bottle of Corbel and just get lost in each other’s eyes. What you think, baby? I wore my best onesie today just for you. It shows my manhood in all sorts of provocative ways. Just let me unzip it a little. You see what I’m sayin? It breathes baby, and the world breathes back.

A friendly giant.

Oh damn girl, you just fainted and everything. Shit, like a damn Georgia Oak. That, that’s ok. Come here, my slumbering princess; yeahhh. You just sit here right on my lap. Whoa, whoa don’t slide girl. Damn jumpsuit slippier than a motherfuck. Don’t worry baby, I’ll keep you safe. Just squeeze your hips like a teddy bear. Shit, girl, your hair is fragrant. Just like Egyptian Cocoa Butter…aahhhhh. You’re my little Cocoa Crisp, yeah. You just sleep here forever girl, right here on papa’s lap…daddy gonna take care of you.  Don’t ever wake up…not unless you want a taste of Hot Foot’s ring.

Click here to download Hot Foot (A Funque Dizco Opera) at 320 kbps