Welp, this song makes no sense. And not just because I don’t speak Spanish. But I feel like this week needs some weird 80s-style music, so here you go.
fun
Termagant Tuesday: “Sweet Home, Chicago,” The Blues Brothers
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Today in 1809, the 10th Congress (one of about seven that haven’t totally sucked) created the Territory of Illinois. That being awesome, and Chicago being awesome, I give you the Blues Brothers.
Funk Friday: “Sam Huff’s Flying Raging Machine,” Lettuce
StandardCurried tuna salad sandwich with avocado
• 4 oz. can of tuna
• ½ carrot, diced
• ½ celery stalk, diced
• 2 tbs. red onion, diced
• 1 tsp. curry powder
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 2 slices bread
• ½ avocado
Place bread in toaster.
Toss tuna with curry power, carrot, celery, salt, and pepper in a bowl.
Scoop avocado out of its skin, and spread on toast, using a fork to mash into the bread.
Place tuna (or egg) mixture on the avocado toast bread.
Delicately season with salt and pepper again, to taste.
Serve open face.
…What? So what this isn’t about the music, or a funny story, or whatever? I just gave you the recipe for a delicious sandwich. Get your own blog.
Throwback Thursday: “Piano Concerto No 22 in E-flat major, K 482, 3rd mvmt” W.A. Mozart
StandardI’ve been getting a lot of whining from certain people about how my musical tastes aren’t “melodic,” how I”m “obsessed” with “rhythm,” how “I” should “get out” more. I don’t appreciate your tone, and I find your statements outlandish, calumnious, and ill-informed. To prove it, I give you this Mozart thing. Here, you unwashed rabble. Have some damn melody (which, by the way, is supposed to start at 22:36, in case the YouTube video fails). But before you go, I will subject you to my favorite knock-knock joke.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Knock-knock.
Who’s there.
Philip Glass.
Worldly Wednesday: “The Bust-Out Brigade,” The Go! Team
StandardHave you ever had any of the following thoughts?
* Get me out of here.
* Nope nope nope nope nope nnnnnope.
* Oh please, sweet mercy, shut up.
* Is death imminent, and if not, how soon can it get here?
* Perhaps I should practice my breathing techni–oh f%&* my breathing technique.
* I wonder whether the Department of Transportation is hiring. I like being outdoors and standing around with shovels. Why didn’t I ever pursue my dream of being on a road crew?
* What objects currently within reach could I use to break the window and shimmy down the side of this building to freedom?
* If I sold all of my possessions and liquidated my assets, I could buy a shiny Airstream Trailer and drive around the country. Maybe I’d make puppets. I like puppets. Why didn’t I ever pursue my dream of being a nomadic puppeter…puppetist…puppet-mast–no that’s the horror movie…puppeteer?
* How many holidays do I have to spend with her family before I convince her I like them fine and I never have to see them again?
* Her brother, though. Jesus.
* I wonder if I can out-swim a shark.
None?
Oh okay. Well you can wait until Thursday. Peace out.
Termagant Tuesday: Wynton Marsalis, “Sidewalk Blues
StandardIt snowed a bit where we are. And I’m not being sardonic – it really only snowed a bit. Like, an inch and a half. It wasn’t even that heavy. And yet, every sidewalk from my apartment to the metro was 100% pure, un-messed-about-with snow. No shovel had disturbed its delightful whiteness. Hundreds of feet, however, had ground the snow into a luge, so I, being aggressively averse to falling down, walked in the street. I missed my sidewalks. What a terrible morning.
Modernism Monday: “Listen to the Man,” George Ezra
StandardHi there, Yankette Nation! I’m back! I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long. Life, you know. But so many of you lovely people wrote and asked “WTF – where did you go?” that I pushed life aside to write you all small, vaguely inane blog posts about small, vaguely inane songs.
This song is small but not inane. George Ezra is a new up-and-coming singer-songwriter from Britain who has been making quite a huge splash. I can’t decide what I like better: the song, or the video. You decide.
Funk Friday: “Dirty Money,” Antibalas
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I had the great pleasure of seeing these guys live a few months ago. Drop everything and go see them if they swing through your town. They are a real powerhouse.
Worldly Wednesday: “Dancing Song,” Little Comets
StandardToday, humans landed a spacecraft on a comet. On a COMET. I am overwhelmed with how incredibly awesome this is. Naturally, the only song to play is “Dancing Song” by the amazing and delightful U.K. band, Little Comets.
Watch this.
Termagant Tuesday: “Bugle Call Rag,” Benny Goodman
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“So died these men as became Athenians. You, their survivors, must determine to have as unfaltering a resolution in the field, though you may pray that it may have a happier issue. And not contented with ideas derived only from words of the advantages which are bound up with the defense of your country, though these would furnish a valuable text to a speaker even before an audience so alive to them as the present, you must yourselves realize the power of Athens, and feed your eyes upon her from day to day, till love of her fills your hearts; and then, when all her greatness shall break upon you, you must reflect that it was by courage, sense of duty, and a keen feeling of honor in action that men were enabled to win all this, and that no personal failure in an enterprise could make them consent to deprive their country of their valor, but they laid it at her feet as the most glorious contribution that they could offer.”
– Pericles, funeral oration, 431 B.C.
Happy Veterans Day.
The Daily Tune-Up 