Early contenders for the Unusual Love mix:
She Loves You - Peter Sellers (a comic recitation of the Beatles' song. Which may sound boring, but ya know - he's Peter Fuckin' Sellers! He's a gottdammed genius. It's brilliant) A bit on the short side.
Don't Sugar Me - from the Songs of Pogo collection. Sort of a cartoon torch song. Sassy.
Sherilyn Flynn - Screamin' Jay Hawkins' ode to that saddle-shoed vamp from Twin Peaks.
You Are My Sister - Antony & the Johnsons. Otherworldly caberet.
Fire of Love - Jody Reynolds. Ultra rockabilly torch song, inspiring everybody from the MC5 to the Gun Club to (I think) David Lynch.
Ode to Love - Jody Reynolds w/ Bobby Gentry. Cool and moody.
Her Love Rubbed Off - Carl Perkins. Lewd.
Wreck Your Life, hands down. You might pick up Early Tracks (a Bloodshot compilation done after the boys were with Elektra) after you become a raving completist -- their cover of "Let The Train Blow The Whistle" is a favorite of mine, "Ray Charles" comes as close as anything to capturing the frenetic quality of their live show, and "Cryin' Drunk" still sometimes shows up at live shows. But you must have Wreck Your Life.
This is an album that starts with "Victoria," a song so catchy that you will need to have it surgically removed from your head, and immediately goes on to a modern murder ballad so good Waylon Jennings recorded it. It includes a self-pity song, a kiss-off song, and a song featuring Jon Langford shouting "asshole!" Not to mention the song about having sex with your much younger girlfriend in the car her dad gave her, which I once heard Rhett Miller tell a charming story about realizing too late he was singing in front of said girlfriend and her parents. I have the poster for this album up in my kitchen, along with the autographed Sally Timms poster and the WWII era British "Eat Bread!" sign. Enough said.
Also, I've been loving reading the letters from Salon readers who are offended or amused by Havrilesky's column and think the phraseology she was using is original to her.
Mr "Corwood," if that *is* your real pseudonym, I read and enjoyed your Deadwood post, but I have to tell you, I don't think Bullock and Swearingen are presented as so much of being polar opposites who are occasionally uncomfortable allies as brothers under the skin who'd prefer not to have to acknowledge that.
Congrats, Mr. Boucher.
D'oh - edited for not enough coffee before posting
Now we can steal Frank's identity. Exxxcelllent....
I was just thinking that. Just in time for the NOLA trip.
hmmph, when I visited MC we did a park walk, but not the hike you mention. It was a rushed weekend for me though with lots of driving and stuff. Clearly I need to go see her again.
also? CONGRATULATIONS!!
FWIW, Corwood, Emmett also arrived with cord around neck, and had to be revivified. Apgar from 3 to 8 in one minute. And that was in a hospital, but no c-section.
Man, I bet that was terrifying. But it's strangely reassuring to hear that a kid as fantastic as Emmett also had a scary time at delivery.
I'm not squeamish about me, but when my loved ones are hurting I'm a wreck.
This is precisely what makes delivery difficult on Dads.
I got nothing to say about Percy Heath, except that I wish my own life could be as full as his was.
Mr "Corwood," if that *is* your real pseudonym, I read and enjoyed your Deadwood post, but I have to tell you, I don't think Bullock and Swearingen are presented as so much of being polar opposites who are occasionally uncomfortable allies as brothers under the skin who'd prefer not to have to acknowledge that.
No comment on my real or fake pseudonyms. I agree that Bullock & Swearingen have a deep connection, but I dunno about the brothers under the skin part. Admittedly, I’m several weeks behind (the last ep I saw was the one that ended with Al watching Joanie spirit the whores away), but Bullock doesn’t seem to have that sort of amoral Dionysian streak that makes Swearingen so damn compelling. He’s so uptight that I’m surprised his teeth haven’t popped out from the pressure.
Finally, I’ve said it before and will do so again: Hell, yeah, Joe!
OT (at last): I picked up the new Go-Betweens and recent Eric Matthews releases yesterday. I’m still digesting both, but I want to point out that the Go-Betweens are going to play the US for the first time since 1989 in June. NYC, Chapel Hill, Chicago, Seattle, San Francisco, and LA, but (why o why, lord?) nowhere within a day's drive of me. Please excuse the following (ladies of delicate constitutions may wish to have the smelling salts onhand if they choose to highlight this): FUCK! FUCKITY FUCK! GODDAMMIT!
