I have no words. This is just the sublimest of the sublime. “Turn me loose! We shall overcome! Where’d you get that funk from, huh?”
I could be wrong about this, but I feel like Janet Jackson is one of the most under-appreciated feminists in pop music. This song, off of her “Rhythm Nation 1814” album, proceeded her musical “coming out” of sorts, her album “Control,” which announced her emancipation from her father and manager. That record was such a success that she was counseled to make a kind of “Control 2.” Instead, she made an album whose focal point was social injustice, racism, sexism, and the state of the world. Proving wrong those who said that such a heavy topic would tank , “Rhythm Nation 1814” generated seven Top Five singles – a record-breaking number at the time – and the record as whole ended up going sextuple platinum.
So, y’know, trust your instincts, or something.
The exceptionally funky band The Roots cover the exceptionally cool George Kranz. This track is basically a vehicle to showcase Questlove’s amazing drumming and general rhythm skills. But I love it for its spare modernism. It reminds me a lot of what would happen if Bobby McFerrin and Laurie Anderson got together. It’s an amazing and fun soundscape until 3:20 when the rest of the song drops.
Sorry for leaving you stranded yesterday, Tune-Up Nation. Chateau Yankette lost power. It was very sad. But we’re back up and running today, just in time to run outside and trudge through three-feet-high snow drifts just to finally get out of the damn house. That said, the city is really beautiful in its snow blanket, and now that the sun is out, everything looks shiny and clean. It’s also marvelously quieter than it usually is – no honking, no construction, no sirens. It’s delightful.
IT’S SNOWING IT’S SNOWING IT’S SNOWING IT’S SNOWING IT’S SNOWING
The Feds shut down at noon today, which put everyone on the road and on the Metro at the same time, which went totally fine by the way thanks for asking (oh how it hurts to lie). But now we are ensconced in our homes, or in the homes of our friends in my case, watching the rising snow drifts and the synchronous diminution of city activity. So crank that bass up and let’s get down to business.
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.
Curried 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.
Have 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.
Oh okay. Well you can wait until Thursday. Peace out.
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.
Oh Sharon Jones, you magnificent bastard. Every component of this song works together. It’s so tight. There isn’t any extraneous mess. That bass guitar, that bari sax…I’m having a hard time typing this…while standing up…and dancing…
Shameless Friend Promotion! Portia, aka Piz, is the best chef I know. If you want to try your hand at her kind of culinary mastery, boogie on over to Portia’s TurnTable.
Here’s an antidote to the ebola hysteria. “Every man, woman and child is catching it. It’s called the Dap Dip, and they say you get it in your pants.”