Knuckles

I have been rummaging through my computer and digital detritus of late – there is a lot – and was happily able to restore Viv’s iPod to full functionality. Taking advantage of this today as I mowed the lawn, I amused myself by bending an ear to the last BKB thing I worked on, a live demo CD of 13 songs I put together as a booking tool.

To my amusement, I chose to kick off the CD with two songs that feature, well, um… me on lead mandolin, no guitar in sight, on stage, or recorded. I’m sure that had nothing whatsoever to do with my decision, as I practice impartiality in all things.

As do you.

Rex Bob Lowenstein

Listening to a fifteen-year old cassette of a friend’s old aircheck – hm, maybe even older than fifteen years, can’t recall if it’s a WQAX or WFHB show – I was amused by the song Rex Bob Lowenstein, by artist unknown, but possibly Mark Germino.

I started to try to figure out whose song it was and the search results I was getting made no sense. It seems like possibly the song was originated by Germino but covered by a not-that-name Flying Burrito Brothers reunion outfit. No-one’s blogged it or posted a live version so I was defeated in my quest to do an aural comparison and share a link.

I did find the lyrics, so, um, make up your own damn tune.

Hear it

From that Hoosier 60s band blog, on my first sweep through it I found a bunch of cools pics and band names but a sad lack of great sounds! This June 2007 post highlighting a side by the Tribu-terrys is the best I’ve come up with so far.

I did think it was interesting that many of the other sides seem to bear out my thesis of a ‘midwestern fatalism’ grounding Hoosier pop. There were at least two I previewed lamenting the loss of draftees in Vietnam, but specifically not protesting that loss. One of the songs was called ‘Necessary Evil.’

Eventually I suppose I’ll get all OCD on the audio and see if I can pull stats out. Not tonight.

Glass, and houses

Lying on the grass and watching the sky slowly darken of a midsummer evening while Philip Glass’ Powwaqatsi plays the day away is far from an argument against Western overconsumption.

Gang of Burma

Whenever I dig out my old Mission of Burma sides, as I have this hot night, I am always struck: the things that I like in MoB are the things that I like in Gang of Four, MoB’s less doctrinaire political lyrics being an exception, and for some reason, a point in Gang of Four’s favor despite the clearly ironic tone with which they appropriate the material.

I find it somewhat puzzling that I conflate the two bands. I do, it must be noted, also love both bands. If I had to pick, though, it’s early-period Gang of Four in a landslide.

3312

Since I know at least two of the authors in the series, and love the idea, I suppose I should really man up on 33 1/2.