kaasirpent: (Music)
Thursday, September 18th, 2014 03:19 pm
I'm about to show my age. Not that I don't freely admit I'm <blur>ty-<blur> years old. I mean — What? You couldn't read that? How very odd. You should probably have your eyes checked. First sign of old age, you know.

Anyhow, back when I first got interested in music, it was The Eighties. I know! It actually existed! It wasn't just some improbable, magical realm of freaky hair and clothing conjured up by John Hughes as a world in which it actually made sense for Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club to exist.

Granted, I was well past my larval stage and headed into pupa at this point. Meaning that my musically formative years happened in late high school and college rather than in childhood, which occurred, for the most part, in The Seventies.

Which didn't actually exist, unlike the Eighties. Well, at least not musically, for me. I lived in a tiny town in rural Alabama, and pretty much the only stations we got that I was aware of were all country stations. So while I was aware of (and had probably heard, briefly) hard, acid rock groups like The Osmonds, The Carpenters, The Jackson Five, and The Three Dog Night, most of what I actually heard on a daily basis was Tammy Wynette, Roy Clark, Loretta (pronounced LOW-RETta, thank you) Lynn, George Jones, and Charlie Pride. Why? Because I wasn't in control of the radio. I wasn't driving.1

The summer of the year after tenth grade (I think; it was a long time ago, and I've slept since then), I registered at Livingston University (now known as The University of West Alabama) for an introductory level college chemistry course.2

What? Yes, this all relates. Jesus, you're impatient. Another sign of age. Hmm? Nothing. Really. Now, where was I?

So I registered for this chemistry course, because my high school chemistry class had been a joke. Not because the teacher wasn't any good, but because she simply wasn't there. She had a sick child, and we had substitutes and such a lot, and . . . well, not everyone in the class was college-bound and our pace . . . reflected that. We (my mother and father) felt that although I had good grades in chemistry, I needed to actually learn the topic.

I know! Crazy talk.

Anyway, I got to drive (in my own car!) from Eutaw to Livingston three times per week (or whatever it was) to take the class. And on that twice-daily hour-long drive to and from school, in my two-door, 1976 Chrysler Cordoba, by myself, I discovered that the radio picked up stations that . . . that weren't country.

I mean, like, totally not country. Do you understand what I'm telling you? They had, like, people who pronounced "well" as one syllable and "thing" didn't rhyme with "slang." These were people who had probably never heard of Ricky Scaggs or Jeannie Riley. Who probably thought a steel guitar was just a really heavy, metal guitar. As opposed to a heavy-metal guitar. Because that's totally different.

Was this what music was?

I liked it! I really liked it!

I remember the song that "turned the corner" for me. Every single morning on the way to Livingston, whatever station it was that I tuned into played the song "Time" by The Alan Parsons Project. I would also have heard songs by Blondie, Hall & Oates, Kool & the Gang3, Sprick Ringfield . . . you should picture angelic chords playing here. They would probably sound something like "Time" by The Alan Parsons Project.

Fast forward a couple of years. 1983. Graduation. Going off to college. Buying cassette tapes for the first time. I seldom bought whole albums because I was one of those people who only liked one or two songs, and didn't want to take the chance with all those other ones. Because on a cassette tape (back in the old days before newfangled things like fire and dirt), there's no skipping around. You pretty much had to listen to music in the order it was on the cassette.

So I bought two compilation albums called Hit Explosion4 and Dancing Madness5 from K-tel. They both had some awesome hits from the previous couple of years. Coincidentally, during the time in which I had my own car and could listen to what I wanted to listen to. Go. Figure. :)

I must have listened to those cassettes hundreds of times. Straight through, in order.

Now, let's fast forward through the 80s (Don't we wish that had been possible at the time?) and the 90s. And most of the 2000s. To, in fact, a few months ago.

While declutterizing my home office, I found my old box of cassette tapes (Have I mentioned I pretty much never throw anything media-related away? Books, cassettes, CDs...). I had maybe sixty of them. Most of which I'd already replaced by buying the album on CD and then ripping to MP3 to put in iTunes. But I missed Hit Explosion and Dancing Madness. And I don't even own a cassette deck.

My, how times have changed.

And then it dawned on me that I could make my own damned compilation albums using playlists in iTunes.

Well, duh!

I already owned a good many of the songs. Twenty minutes and maybe $8 later, I had reassembled both albums from 1983 as playlists in iTunes.

Last night, I felt the need to escape writing code for a while and just not be bothered. The call of 1983 was too strong to resist. "If I haaaaad a photograph of YOU-oo-OO-oo-OOOOH, as something to remiiiiind meeeeee..."

Which is what I meant by "The Small Pleasures."


  1. My mother, were she to comment on this, would no doubt interject, here, and mention in passing how there was this one particular trip in the mid-70s up to West Virginia to visit my grandparents for Christmas where "we" (my parents) were "forced" to listen to an 8-Track (look it up) of Dr. Seuss stories, pretty much back to back, all the way from Alabama to West Virginia. My mother still shudders when someone says the word "ooblek." This one, isolated, singular incident (this is my blog) notwithstanding, she and/or my father ("we") controlled the radio and what got played thereupon.
  2. Whereat I saw the single weirdest misspelling of my name, ever. The college admissions people had me down (until I corrected them) as "GARX HEMBERSON." Really? Garx? Really? Oy. In an unrelated note, my handwriting really sucked back then.
  3. I would later come to loathe Kool & the Gang because of my next-door-neighbors in the dorm during my sophomore year at the University of Alabama. These boys would listen to Kool & the Gang at a volume that made my bed frame vibrate in the next room. Until 3 AM. On nights before tests. And we (I) wanted to kill them. But since murder is wrong, I just learned to hate Kool & the Gang along with my next-door neighbors. That, and I moved into a room across the dorm from them the next semester. Jerks. I assume they're both prematurely deaf, now.
  4. Side 1
    Mickey / Toni Basil
    Vacation / The Go-Gos
    Steppin' Out / Joe Jackson
    Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl) / Haircut 100
    Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah) / Joan Jett
    Young Turks / Rod Stewart
    Abracadabra / Steve Miller Band
    Side 2
    Shadows of the Night / Pat Benatar
    Gloria / Laura Branigan
    Hold On / Santana
    Space Age Love Song / A Flock of Seagulls
    New World Man / Rush
    Keep the Fire Burnin' / REO Speedwagon
    Eye of the Tiger / Survivor
  5. Side 1
    Come Dancing / The Kinks
    Fascination / Human League
    Always Something There to Remind Me / Naked Eyes
    Cool Places / Sparks
    Whirly Girl / Oxo
    Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You) / A Flock of Seagulls
    Side 2
    Electric Avenue / Eddy Grant
    Time (Clock of the Heart) / Culture Club
    Pass the Dutchie / Musical Youth
    Juicy Fruit / Mtume
    Don't You Get So Mad / Jeffrey Osborne
kaasirpent: (Music)
Sunday, November 6th, 2011 02:20 pm
As far as I'm concerned, the song "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People is one of the most annoying that I've heard in recent months. It reminds me of "This Is the Song that Never Ends" because of the annoyingly repetitive, unchanging chorus: "All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my gun/bullet" [repeat 47,000,003 times]. (Note: I have no idea whatsoever what the rest of the lyrics are saying because he cannot or does not enunciate, and I do not care. If he can't sing in such a way that he sounds like he's actually singing in English, then I have no use for him.)

The problem this has caused in my brain is that it has lodged firmly after hearing it played on Friday at the Chinese (yeah, I know, I don't get it, either) restaurant where I had lunch.

When songs I loathe get stuck in my head, my overactive pattern matcher goes into hyperspeed and starts to connect other songs in medleys to try to get rid of the annoying one.

In this case, it has backfired, making me start to doubt my sanity.

This is an approximation of what is playing, over and over and over, in my head right now:

All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my gun.
     Come ride the little train that is rolling down the tracks to the junction.1
All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my bullets.
     Forget about your cares, it is time to relax at the junction.
All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my gun.
     Lots of curves, you bet; even more when you get to the junction.
     Petticoat Junction.
All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my bullets.
     There's a little hotel called the Shady Rest at the junction
     (Petticoat Junction).
All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my gun.
     It is run by Kate, come and be her guest at the junction
     (Petticoat Junction).
All the other kids with their pumped up kicks better run, run, run, run from my bullets.
     And that's uncle Joe, he's a-movin' kinda slow at the junction.
     Petticoooooat Junction!
     Whooooo, Whooooooooooooooo! (<---- train sound)
Repetto ad nauseam. And when I say 'ad nauseam' I mean that I woke up with this and it has been playing on pretty much constant loop for the last 6 or so hours. I think you'd be a little nauseam after that, too.

What it actually sounds like in my head is more like this: "Come and ride the little train with the pumped up kicks at the junction. Petticoat Junction. There's a little hotel with the pumped up kicks better run run run, run from the junction..."

Haaaaate. Theeeee. Soooooooong. Waaaaaaant. It. To. Goooooooo. Awaaaaaaaay.2


  1. For those of you who don't know, Petticoat Junction was a TV show from the 60s (1963 - 1970). Oh, the wacky hijinks.
  2. And by this, I do not mean "out of my head," I mean I want every copy of the song in existance found and destroyed irrevocably. Further, I want the band to be ordered by a court of law never to perform it ever again. Ever.
kaasirpent: (Random Thought)
Tuesday, January 25th, 2011 03:51 pm
It's a sign that you're getting old(er) when not only do the "kids these days" look at you blankly when you mention names of music greats of the past, but when you hear their songs, the singer now sounds like a bad impersonation of themself.

Discuss.

Observation #2: "themself" just sounds awkward, no matter how you slice it.
kaasirpent: (Music)
Thursday, September 30th, 2010 11:13 am
My stuck song for today is one that doesn't actually exist, but has been—to my knowledge—created solely by my own bizarre pattern-matcher in my head.

You know the song "Call Me" by Blondie? With Debbie Harry on lead vocals? I'm hearing those vocals.

But for the music and background vocals I'm hearing the DaVinci's Notebook version of the song.

Also, what the hell is with the lyrics of this song?
Color me your color, baby
Color me your car(???)
Color me your color, darling
I know who you are
Come up off your color chart
I know where you're coming from
Call me! (etc.)
What. The. Hell? Or are those lyrics even slightly correct? Lyric sites often get them very wrong....

Yimminamommina yimminamommina yimminamommina BOW BOW....
kaasirpent: (Music)
Monday, September 27th, 2010 04:51 pm
I was listening to a podcast today about earworms (I call them stuck songs). The show was NPR's RadioLab with Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich. They were playing some of the ones that their listeners had called in to report had been stuck in their heads, and I formulated a hypothesis.

Here are some of the ones that I've had stuck in my head that I can remember off the top of my head mixed with some that their listeners reported.
Dance With Me (Orleans)
Reminiscing (Little River Band)
We Built this City (Jefferson Starship)
Don't Stop Believing (Journey)
Rocketman (Elton John)
Hit Me Baby One More Time (Britney Spears)
Electric Avenue (Eddy Grant)
Staying Alive (Bee Gees)
(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction (The Rolling Stones)
Ricky Don't Lose that Number (Steely Dan)
Blue Bayou (Linda Ronstadt)
An Innocent Man (Billy Joel)
That's probably enough to introduce my hypothesis. Think of the music of the songs...

As an aside, it struck me that the people who sang the songs on the answering machine message were perfectly on tempo with the original music (which RadioLab proved by playing the listeners singing over the original bands) and it was astounding how perfectly they hit each beat...and most of them were on pitch, too.

Anyway...think of those songs, but not too hard (I don't want you to get them stuck in your head. No, really. I don't. Really!).

Am I wrong or are most of those almost the same tempo? About...the same as a heartbeat?

Think about it. But not too hard. Because, you know...earworms.
kaasirpent: (Music)
Monday, August 23rd, 2010 02:40 pm
I'm now in the midst of day 3 of having the Little River Band's "Reminiscing" in my head. It just popped in there, unbidden, without any sort of precedent, on Saturday whilst I was mopping the cat room.

I usually get just the chorus, though.
"Hurry, don't be late. I can hardly wait."
I said to myself, "When we're old,
We'll go dancing in the dark,
Walking through the park and reminiscing."
Over and over and over and over and...

I mean, it could be worse, but this has all the hallmarks of the whole 'Dance With Me' crisis of 2006. (Note: That ended two days after I posted that, at 13 days. A personal record.) I wake up and it's there. At any random moment during the day, it's there. I whistle it without realizing I'm doing it. I hum it without realizing I'm doing it. I go to sleep with it playing on endless loop in my head.
Friday night, it was late, I was walking you home.
We got down to the gate and I was dreaming of the night.
Would it turn out right?
Now as the years roll on,
Each time we hear our favorite song,
The memories come along.
Older times we're missing,
Spending the hours reminiscing.
kaasirpent: (Music)
Friday, May 7th, 2010 05:41 pm
Samples of lyrics from some of the songs that have been going through my head, today:
Rah, rah, ah-ah-AH-ah
Ro, ma, ro-ma-MA-ah
Ga, ga, ooh-la-LA-ah
Want your bad ro-oh-mance
Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya Da Da
Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya Here
Mocca chocalata Ya Ya
Creole Lady Marmalade
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?
Gliddy gloop gloopy
Nibby nobby nooby
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba dabba
Le le lo lo
dooby ooby walla
dooby abba dabba
Early morning singing song
Jeez. Next thing you know it'll be...that guy. You know the one. <shudder>



You know, actually, that guy—Eduard Khil—is pretty cool. Listen to his recent address to fans of the video on YouTube (subtitled in English, translated from the original Russian):

kaasirpent: (Random Thought)
Friday, November 6th, 2009 02:06 pm
My new goal in life is to never have a folk song written about me.

(Think about it.)
kaasirpent: (Music)
Thursday, October 15th, 2009 11:21 am
For reasons I cannot BEGIN to fathom, I have music from Ramo the Elephant in my head.

I last heard Ramo when I was about 7 or 8.

o.O WTF‽ What is knocking on the inside of my psyche?

And do I dare open the door?
kaasirpent: (Movies)
Friday, October 2nd, 2009 02:32 pm
I'm still making my way through the history of cinema. I keep backtracking to pick up stuff I missed, so I haven't quite made it past 1950, yet. But I'm getting there! :)

Last night's selection was the 1944 classic Laura, starring Gene Tierney, Vincent Price, Dana Andrews, Clifton Webb, and Judith Anderson. I enjoyed it, although it wasn't nearly as compelling as it should have been. What was a "startling" ending in 1944 and with stars everyone knew wasn't nearly as startling for me 65 years later and not knowing the reputations of the cast. Still quite enjoyable, mind you; just not a 5/5. :)

So I started watching it again, this time listening to the commentary. And nearly spewed ice cream all over The Shiny.

Best first line of a DVD commentary track, ever:
This is David Raksin. We're running the film Laura, and I'm supposed to remember things about it, which I doubt I can be prevented from doing.
For those that don't recognize the name (and why should you?), David Raksin is the guy who did the musical score for the movie. He wrote the music that we now know as the song (now a standard) "Laura."
kaasirpent: (TV)
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009 05:28 pm
OK, the whole Kanye West thing.

Beyond having heard the name before, I had no idea—and still don't, really—who the man was before he did what he did.

Same goes for Taylor Swift. I have never heard any of her music before and had only heard her name mentioned in the context of Felicia Day's music video "(Do You Want To Date My) Avatar" unseating one of Swift's videos for the #1 spot on iTunes the day it was released.

I don't have cable and even if I did, I would have avoided the award show in question like a bubonic rat.

I also sort of abandoned reading Twitter almost a month ago, so I didn't see it on there.

I heard all the furor second-hand through someone's FaceBook. I looked it up. I watched the video. I sat, like everyone else, in stunned shock.

Kanye West is a complete, utter douchebag.

The way Taylor Swift handled it afterward was extremely classy.

The way Beyoncé Knowles handled it was also extremely classy.

West's appearance on the Leno show was beyond pitiful. Did anyone actually believe he was contrite?

Swift's appearance on The View was classy.

President Obama was 100% correct—even if it was off the record—in his assessment that West is "a jackass."

OK, that's out of the way, now. Here comes the cynicism.

The three performers in question—Swift, West, and Knowles—are getting a crap-ton of free publicity out of this. It strikes me that no one is really losing out. Sure, people are calling West names, but I'm told he's done stunts like this before. It's clearly part of his publicity machine, like Madonna and her more outré behavior.

Swift can use this for at least the next couple of weeks (if not longer) and come across as Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Heidi, and Mary Poppins all rolled into one.

Knowles can also continue to play off her act of kindness and be held up as a paragon of virtue.

It's publicity gold. No, not gold: platinum. With whipped cream and cherry on top.

MTV are morons if they don't capitalize on this. Next year, they need to advertise the hell out of the fact that West, Knowles, and Swift will all be present. They'll need to start in...May. Maybe April. Really build it up, like SyFy does their craptastic pieces of crap movies. Get one of those guys with the deep, movie-fone voices to do the voice-over so it sounds dramatic. Feature close-ups of their faces from this year's awards as the event happened, live. With a CSI-style chord as each face appears on the screen.

And they need to have an award presentation—a big, important one—that is done by West and Swift. Together. They'll come out from opposite sides of the stage, walk to the center of the stage to the podium, give each other a long look...and then Swift needs to hug him. A big, real, genuine, gleaming-teeth-blinding-people-in-the-front-row hug that threatens to squeeze the vinegar and water out of the douchebag.

The audience will go wild. They'll hoot, holler, "Awwwww!", cry, laugh, boo...you name it, they'll do it. The two artists will then break the embrace and step up to the podium. West will start to read the cue cards, and then out of nowhere, Knowles will step up, take his microphone, and say, "I'm sorry, I'm going to let you finish in a second, but I just gotta say...."

At this point, it won't matter what she actually says. Because not only will the entire audience be in an uproar, but so will the millions of viewers tuned into MTV.

Alternatively, Swift could draw back her leg and jam her pointy-toed shoe as far up West's scrotum as physically possible, then read the cue cards her damn self. While he writhes in pain on the floor.

So, really, MTV, if you're reading this, I'll expect my check in the mail sometime soon. My rates are reasonable. $5000/hour. I've been typing this for about 30 minutes, so have your people call my people. We'll do blah blah blah.
kaasirpent: (Writing)
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009 11:23 am
Maybe this will be a regular thing and maybe it won't. We'll see.

I decided this morning that since I wake up most days with music already playing in my head, I should at least try to make it useful.

I thought of forcing myself to come up with an idea for a story based on whatever song is (or songs are) in my head.

Today's mindtracks are:
Swing Out Sister - Twilight World
Lyric prompt: You're living in a twilight world.

John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John - Better Shape Up (from Grease)
Lyric prompt: You better shape up, 'cause I need a man
So here are the two story ideas—which I might actually write—based on these two lyrics from the songs above.

Twilight World

I'd have to do some research—and this may have already been done, which would be included in that research—but I get the image of a planet revolving around a distant star, but the planet is tidally locked with its sun so that one side is always lit and the other is always dark. A colony was sent based on bad data that the planet was in the "Goldilocks Zone" of the star, but when they got there, it was too late to go anywhere else. The only inhabitable areas would be in the narrow band of "twilight" between the perpetually dark and perpetually light hemispheres. The story could either be about the founding of the colony or in the aftermath of its founding and the adjustments that must be made in order to live in perpetual twilight.

Better Shape Up

I picture a short, comical piece—possibly flash—that involves a shape-shifting alien who has to take the shape of a man in order to study his subject: mankind.
kaasirpent: (Music)
Thursday, August 27th, 2009 07:41 am
Tuesday, all day, I had Steely Dan's "My Old School" stuck in my head along with CCR's "Have you Ever Seen the Rain?"

There's something similar about the two songs, although I never sat down to analyze what it was.

Yesterday's and Today's song medley is easy.

P!nk has a song called "Please Don't Leave Me" on her Funhouse album. In the chorus of the song, she plaintively begs, "Pleeeaaa-eeeaaase don't leave me!" and then there's a jaunty little "Dah da-da da dah" in the background. That one piece of the song is stuck in constant replay in my head. I've driven poor Lucy to distraction with it because I keep unintentionally whistling it, and whistling...concerns Lucy. She must come see why I'm making that bizarre noise which she'd never heard before coming to live with me.

Now, on top of that, I have the Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney song "The Girl Is Mine" playing, but just the part where they sing "The doggone girl is mine!"

Over and over. Why? Because it has a similar rhythm to that blasted "Dah da-da da dah" from P!nk.

So there you have it. Another glimpse into the musical morass that is my mind.
kaasirpent: (Input!)
Monday, July 27th, 2009 02:56 pm
Back in the dark ages of television, when I was in grade school (that would be the 70s for those without calculators and/or who don't know I'm 44), I'd come home from school and immediately turn on the TV and put it on what we used to call ETV: Educational Television (WIIQ, channel 41, in Demopolis). What we now think of as PBS, but gets called APT (Alabama Public Television). They ran Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, The Electric Company, ¡Villa Allegre!, 3-2-1 Contact, ZOOM, The Hodgepodge Lodge, Nova, and a host of lesser-known (to me) shows.

Problem is, one of those "lesser-known" (read: I can't remember the name of it) shows had a theme song which got into my head and has stayed there for lo, these close-to-forty years.

This is not entirely bizarre, since they used Bach's Two-part Invention #8 in F Major, BWV 779 as their theme, and it is a catchy little ditty.

If you aren't instantly familiar with that wonderfully descriptive name, why, here it is on YouTube! Who'd-a thunk? :) Cut because some people don't like video clogging up their friends list. Click to see it. )

So, anyone? Beuller?
kaasirpent: (Holidays)
Tuesday, July 7th, 2009 04:44 pm

Background Information

A couple of weeks ago, I agreed that this weekend would be The Weekend™. The one where I bring home The Cats™. Nanny and Granddaddy's cats. Matt & Lucy. But we had to have them sedated because, having done the "unsedated cats in the car in Atlanta traffic" schtick before, I want no part of it. Ever. And neither do you. Trust me.

Along a totally unrelated subject but also a couple of weeks ago, in an email correspondence, I arranged with my cousin Jim Roebuck not only to attend the 110th Henderson Reunion (of which he was the organizer), but to enter the Brunswick Stew contest.1 The reunion was on July 4.

Click here for the rest. Read about parties! Food! Cats! Torn corneas! Alcoholic beverages! Family hymnals! Fireworks! )
kaasirpent: (Music)
Wednesday, May 20th, 2009 01:54 pm
Yesterday, when I first sat down at my desk at work and opened a browser, I noticed that [livejournal.com profile] tbons' status message was "I say we should take off and nuke the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure."

I, of course, responded, "They mostly come at night. Mostly."

And that put a song in my head which has been riding around in my forebrain, interfering with simple tasks, for more than 24 hours, now. <cue 80s music>
She'll only come out at night
The lean and hungry type
Nothing is new, I've seen her here before
Watching and waiting
She's sitting with you but her eyes are on the door
So many have paid to see
What you think you're getting for free
The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar
Money's the matter
If you're in it for love you ain't gonna get too far

Oh here she comes
Watch out boy she'll chew you up
Oh here she comes
She's a maneater
Oh here she comes
Watch out boy she'll chew you up
Oh here she comes
She's a maneater
(The link between Aliens and "Maneater" obviously being the phrase "They mostly come at night" and the lyric "She'll only come out at night." I mean, how much more 'handed to you on a platter' could you possibly get?)

I blame [livejournal.com profile] tbons. Entirely.
kaasirpent: (Music)
Monday, January 5th, 2009 03:24 pm
Today's stuck-song medley is as follows:

"The Lonely Goatherd" from The Sound of Music
"The Old Gumbie Cat" from Cats (Jennyanydots)
"I'll Never Tell" from "Once More With Feeling" (the musical episode of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer)

I blame [livejournal.com profile] telleestmavie. :)

High on a hill was a lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Loud was the voice of the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

I have a gumbie cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots
Her coat is of the tabby kind with tiger stripes and leopard spots
All day she sits beneath the stairs or on the steps or on the mat
She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that's what makes a gumbie cat

This is the man that I plan to entangle, isn't he fine?
My claim to fame was to maim and to mangle, vengeance was mine!
But I'm out of the biz, the name I made I'll trade for his.
The only trouble is - I'll never tell.
kaasirpent: (YouTube)
Wednesday, November 19th, 2008 05:16 pm
Can't. Get. It. Out. Of. My. Head.

Warning: May cause severe stuck-song syndrome, give you the creeps, or other adverse reactions. )
kaasirpent: (Music)
Tuesday, July 15th, 2008 09:50 am
Today's award for the weirdest ever stuck-song lyrics goes to multiple artists. Because I'm hearing multiple voices "sing" the words. They are, in their entirety:
Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seis
I know for a fact that one of the ones I'm hearing is DaVinci's Notebook's "Seaside Lament (Sand)," which starts with the Spanish counting, because I'm also hearing them doing part of the background lyrics, which contains "doo ron ron ra oooo, doo ron ron ra oooo," and part of the very Beach Boys-esque bridge ("Don't it make my Speedos / Crunch like Doritos / I've got shifting dunes / In my Fruit of the Looms"). I'm pretty sure the other one is The Offspring's "Pretty Fly for a White Guy," but I don't have that one on my iPod, so I can't "scratch" that particular itch.

Oy. This is just what I need on a Tuesday morning: surreal lyrics from two songs that are so very not the same style.

At least I don't have "Meccha leccha hi, meccha hiney hiney ho" from Weird Al's "Pretty Fly for a Rabbi" competing with the...um....

GAH!
kaasirpent: (Music)
Thursday, July 3rd, 2008 09:27 am
Is it just me, or does the bass line at the beginning (and throughout) Keith Urban's "Tu Compania" sound just like the beginning of the Fraggle Rock theme?

Huh? Is it?