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01 June 2006
This thread had too much fun last night and feels a bit woozy...
Although I did drink a lot of champagne last night at the Regency, watching James Naughton sing an arrangement of the bass parts of lots of do-wop songs during his cabaret show. I thought of you, jonmc- it was a great number.
What's your recipe for Bloodies, pips? Have a good one?
My husband is a Bloody fan. He uses lemons, horseradish, tomato juice, pepper, salt, celery, Old Bay, and it's either tabasco or worcestershire - can't remember. He keeps the vodka in the freezer to make it nice and chill.
I'm sure he was fine, pinky, but doo-wop's natural habitat is a street corner around a burning ashcan or an alley with echo. Elevated trains running in the background are a nice touch.
Also, firefighters sure like to drink and stuff.
(try coffee and a smoke and the thread will feel better)
So I rolled outta bed at nine and hit the office at nine-fifteen to find an email telling me the goddamn controller wants me to do duplicates of my daily work to save into a parallel month-end database, all on the same fuckin' platform; it takes me an hour to do all this just once, and both databases are running on the same system. There should be a way to import my work to the month-end side, but the Systems people say there isn't. I happen to know that there is, and these lazy assholes either don't know how (and thus don't deserve their jobs) or don't want to (in which case they should be fired). These shitholes are really fuckin' my morning up. Plus I got heartburn from late-night waffles, eggs, and sausage, so not only do I want to stab these people and suck the blood from their wounds with a special tube in the handle of my knife, I want to vomit hot guts all over them when I'm done.
Of course, now that I've finished with that redundant bullshit, I realize it wasn't so bad. But I'd still like to go into a frenzy of death here today. Or maybe I can just light outta here and go dance on your roof. Much better idea.
I sometimes like Hendrix's singing more than the guitar playing. I have a bootleg somewhere that he recorded in his apartment with an acoustic guitar and it's fucking lovely.
I was just slighting his guitar playing, which I think is amazing but inert. To me he's like Mozart: sure, he's the best ever, and I'd rather listen to him than most anyone else, but his work is most notable for its taste and appropriateness, not for the creative dissonances and sharp angles I so love in rock.
His vocals, however, are sweet and low. They offer a perfect counterpoint to his singing, a fuzzy, mumbly continuo enriching his constantly moving strings.
I think folks often worship guitar gods without realizing how important the singing is, and how much less they'd like the guitarist if he wasn't much of a singer. An example I often turn to is BB King (great guitarist, great singer) v. Robert Cray (great guitarist, shitty singer). It's the vocals that make the guitarist great. Clapton's another example.
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