Friday, October 4, 2013

it's list time

Just Lemme Know Yer Tastes


Fred C. Dobbs said...

1. I like this song a lot. THIS YEAR'S MODEL might be my favorite EC elpee, and this is one of its strongest tracks (UK version).

2. One of the best tracks from maybe The Greatest Debut Album in Rock History. I love the live version on Budokan II, too!

3. I'm really not a Mettalica fan. Not a Mariano Rivera fan, either.

4. I'm a huge Nilsson fan, but not a fan of this track. Apparently, while making SON OF..., Richard Perry was desperate for the big hit to follow up "Without You" and the other hits from NS. "Spaceman" was supposed to be that, but I just don't think it's a very interesting song or recording. It had the bad fortune of entering the charts at the same time as Elton's "Rocket Man" and it got walloped.

5. "See No Evil" is one of my favorite lead off tracks ever, on one of my favorite rock albums ever. I think IT, and not Marquee Moon, might feature the greatest rock guitar solo of all times.

mister muleboy said...

1> I like this song a lot too. My Aim Is True is probably my fave, but I think that This Year's Model is the better album. Maybe his/their best.

I actually am currently more fond of "This Year's Girl" than "(IDWTGT)Chelsea," but that's a passing thing

2> Love this record. Love it love it love. A rumble. A build, Sloppy. Tight. What's not to love? Budokan II excellent. Don't know why they disown it

3> I don't like Metallica. I don't like this record. As for Rivera: Cutter this, motherfucker!

4> View of "Spaceman" surprisingly similar to yours. Don't get it. "Driving Along" I get. . . .

5> I was shoked to see that, entirely by coincidence, another blog that I read was featuring "See No Evil" -- gushingly -- the same day I posted this. I really dig this song. I dig the G. Davies version as well. I really wish that I hadn't seen Television at the 9:30 Club -- I hate the place, and was just fucking miserable. I've seen video of latter-day Television that gets me going quiite nicely.

What the fuck are we doing agreeing about everything?

Fred C. Dobbs said...

They stopped at The Sahara, taking a long table near the back, and listened to a baldheaded little comedian named Don Rickles, who is probably more caustic than any comic in the country. His humor is so rude, in such bad taste, that it offends no one -- it is too offensive to be offensive. Spotting Eddie Fisher among the audience, Rickles proceeded to ridicule him as a lover, saying it was no wonder that he could not handle Elizabeth Taylor; and when two businessmen in the audience acknowledged that they were Egyptian, Rickles cut into them for their country's policy toward Israel; and he strongly suggested that the woman seated at one table with her husband was actually a hooker.

When the Sinatra crowd walked in, Don Rickles could not be more delighted. Pointing to Jilly, Rickles yelled: "How's it feel to be Frank's tractor?... Yeah, Jilly keeps walking in front of Frank clearing the way." Then, nodding to Durocher, Rickles said, "Stand up Leo, show Frank how you slide." Then he focused on Sinatra, not failing to mention Mia Farrow, nor that he was wearing a toupee, nor to say that Sinatra was washed up as a singer, and when Sinatra laughed, everybody laughed, and Rickles pointed toward Bishop: "Joey Bishop keeps checking with Frank to see what's funny."

Then, after Rickles told some Jewish jokes, Dean Martin stood up and yelled, "Hey, you're always talking about the Jews, never about the Italians," and Rickles cut him off with, "What do we need the Italians for -- all they do is keep the flies off our fish."

Sinatra laughed, they all laughed, and Rickles went on this way for nearly an hour until Sinatra, standing up, said, "All right, com'on, get this thing over with. I gotta go."

"Shaddup and sit down!" Rickles snapped. "I've had to listen to you sing...."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Sinatra yelled back.

"Dick Haymes," Rickles replied, and Sinatra laughed again, and then Dean Martin, pouring a bottle of whisky over his head, entirely drenching his tuxedo, pounded the table.