Somewhere in this entry I’m going to post a song. I’ve probably posted it before and if you ever rode in my old mighty mighty jeep you’ve heard it louder than that type of song needs be played. Christ I miss working electronic retail. Wait, no, that can’t be right; I miss getting electronics below cost. That five hundred dollar teal shoe box of a mighty mighty jeep had one serious sound system to it.
There was, for a while, a “thing” in Portland; The Japanese Motor Club. The cars not the drivers, can I get an amen. These kids, from zero to forty, would jack up and pimp out little Toyotas and Hondas. Neon running boards, hydraulics, big old surfboard looking tail thingy’s, trunks full of subwoofers, you know, shit like that. Huh. I forget what that has to do with anything. Maybe I was on the verge of making up some confrontation, but no, no reason to. They were nice kids and they bought shit from me.
Anyhow, the song isn’t famous, the writer of it used to be, I guess, in some circles at any rate, I’m guessing the PDX Japanese Motor Club was not one of those circles. So, there’s two things that not only have nothing to do with nothing but also have nothing to do with the others nothing to do with anything.
If you listen to the song once you might not like it. If you, of your own volition listen to it again, it’s probably got you but the short and curlys, unless you’ve gone retro and then by the long and curlys. If you’ve taken a hot iron to straighten out your long and curlys you should probably leave your phone number in the notes. Yes, I’ve paid real legal tender to go into cheesy roadside Ripelys believe it or not! Museums and/or tents. No judgement, just saying.
I know, wrong kind of build up for a song so dark in a sad folksy way. Yes, that Richard Thompson, who, before you were born, played the guitfiddle for the British traditional band Fairport Convention back when Sandy Denny was alive. Who? Relax kids, he was a british rapper. Heh. I crack me up.
So this next song (because I’ve run out of things I feel like saying, the interesting stuff sounds made up and the other stuff isn’t interesting) — well, this poor band just had an unfortunate name. I mean I think they did it on purpose, I think it was a bad idea. Melodically it’ll wash the bummer out of your mouth. Sorry it won’t clean up your language you filthy whore. Apologies, I didn’t mean to imply you charge for it.
I apologize too if I’ve failed to offend somebody. I’m all about the parity.
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