She Swallowed a Harmonica

Her name is Lalah (pronounced LAY-la) Hathaway and she sings a chord. Not like those Tibetan throat singers who work into it, she seems able to do it on the quick and at will. (Watch the band react.)

If you want to cut to the chase she does it at 6:10:

The Fibonaccis: Purple Hazed

One of Los Angeles's first wave of new wave bands (1981-1987)—art punk is what Wiki calls them (I don't hear the punk)—prefiguring the lounge era's appetite for Ennio Morricone, Nino Rota, Henry Mancini, John Barry, with the exotica of Martin Denny and Esquival (territory later explored by Combustible Edison, Oranj Symphonette among others). The Fibonaccis took their version of exotica and fed it through a Casiotone adding a few more spoonfuls of whimsy and retrophilia. Theirs was a post-war kind of psychedelia crossed with the spirit of Weill and Brecht on laughing gas. The quality of musicianship was high and inventive, and singer Magie Song, while of limited range, brought to the table the right amounts of theater and levity.

Their best expression of the concept may be in this version of Purple Haze, certainly worthy of a spot on your iPod:








Download: The Fibonaccis, Purple Haze

Much more of their catalog available for free download at their website, fibonaccis.com

Does Jenny Rock? Oui.

I love the French. I mean, not the French so much as the idea of the French. They may not have invented kissing but they have as many words for it as Eskimos do for snow (bécot, baiser, bise, bisou, bouche-à-bouche, caresser, embrasser, galocher, patin, rouler une pelle, etc.). The French word for penis? Bistouquette. Sounds delicious, no? Or this one: Chauve à col roulé. "The bald one with the turtleneck." (There's a lot more of those, too.) Masturbation? Branlage. Sounds like a dessert. And any culture that'd create a word like frottage earns my respect.

And then there's Jenny Rock reworking this Deep Purple version of a Joe South song. For this, words fail:



I've since been informed that Ms. Rock was Québécois and not French and that much of her work is a kind of banal pop in the mold of France Gall. Still...

Yoko Still Loco

As far as I'm concerned that's a good thing. I've made my case for Yoko before but what's even more remarkable now is that she's still blowing her trademark electrocuted banshee wail at the crinkly age of 80!

With Sean in the band and her characteristic warble intact, Yoko continues to spread the hippie love and peace message 50 years later and, goddammit, bless her indefatigable spunk.

Define Yourself by What You Love

It was the mission of Jelly Roll for the Earhole to find praise and enthusiasm for those things deemed worthy of our love and to show reticence with the criticism for those not. On this point Australian comedian Tim Minchin agrees:

I see it online all of the time, people whose idea of being a part of a subculture is to hate Coldplay or football or feminists or the Liberal Party. We have a tendency to define ourselves in opposition to stuff. As a comedian I make my living out of it, but try also to express your passion for things you love. Be demonstrative and generous with your praise for those you admire. Send thank-you cards and give standing ovations. Be pro-stuff, not just anti-stuff. 

Amen

Brushy One String: One String, Big Heart

Passion. 'Nuff said:



Via Alpha Minds.

May need more outputs...

Thanks to Jeffery Porterfield for the heads up.