Wednesday, July 29, 2015


Dr. Walter J. Palmer is now "the most hated man on the Internet." It turns out he not only thrill-killed "Cecil the Lion" for $50,000, but probably lied about not knowing this was a protected animal. This prick lied back in 2008 about not knowing he'd killed a black bear out of legal hunting range. This prick also paid $125,000 for having sexually harassed one of his employees. The maniac boasts of being one of the few "Super Slam" hunters, having killed 29 different big-game animals including everything from a buffalo to a polar bear.

AND...most disgusting of all...he's a DENTIST.

This guy has a huge stand-alone private building for an office, with two female assistants and has made a fortune by gouging insurance companies, over-charging (right?) for cosmetic work, and literally bleeding his patients.

PS, the guy, in some pictures, looks remarkably like waxy, cold-blooded Vlad Putin.

$50,000 for a little vacation to Zimbabwe to bag another lion (he already had one) was chump change to this fucking DENTIST.

A insignificant creepy DENTIST in Minnesota has to be a big shot (literally). If he was a high school baseball coach or something, the outcry may not have been so loud. But a DENTIST? Everybody hates DENTISTS.

And being a rich dentist with a dozen years of law-flaunting, animal killing and even sexual abuse? This guy's sadism knows no limits. Which instantly reminded me of the lines in "DENTIST!" from the "Little Shop of Horrors" musical:

When I was young and just a bad little kid
, my momma noticed funny things I did.

Like shootin' puppies with a B B gun. I'd poison guppies, and when I was done

I'd find a pussy cat and bash in its head
 That's when my momma said:

Be a dentist! 
You have a talent for causing things pain! Son, be a dentist. 
People will pay you to be inhumane

Palmer's shrugging excuse is that he had no idea the lion his guys lured off the preservation estate was protected. He had nothing to say about why his vaunted crossbow skills failed him and he only wounded the lion and left it to suffer for over a day before he was able to track it down and kill it with a rifle. He only underlined that others should be blamed and he shouldn't be extradited to face jail in Zimbabwe. PS, for killing that black bear in 2008 40 miles out of legal range he got a one year probation instead of jail time.

Among Palmer's many kills...THIS leopard. Note again how much this coward resembles Putin, how he desperately needs to be macho, and how his crossbow weapon is not something Native Americans used, but almost as easy to use as a fucking machine gun.

Do you suppose a psychopath like Dr. Walter Palmer just didn't get the stuffed animal Santa promised him? That might account for needing to hug a dead animal so badly.

It might also account for the absolute child-like look of glee on his face when he's KILLED a big animal and he'll be able to STUFF it and have it in his home. Wheee!

Palmer's egregious excess led Jimmy Kimmel to drop the jokes from his late-night monologue and take aim:

"Walt Palmer…stop saying you "took" the animal, you "take" aspirin. You KILLED the lion…the big question is why are you shooting a lion in the first place…how is that fun? Is it that difficult for you to get an erection that you have to kill things? Here's some a'hole dentist who wants a lion's head over the fireplace in his man cave so his douchebag buddies can gather around him and tell him how awesome he is, that's just vomitous…"

Indeed, using "can't miss" rifles or outrageously expensive and advanced crossbows is not sporting. Grinning while posing with dead animals is sick. And the bad news is that Dr. Palmer is not the only thrill-killer out there. There are plenty of grubby white scumbags who journey to Africa to slaughter the remaining wildlife and boast about it. The Africans welcome them because the money is so good. As you see, the natives in Namibia have a thriving business in letting white people shoot animals that they can then skin and preserve for them.

Donald Trump's sons have gone on thrill-kills, acting like they took risks in bagging the animals when in truth, it's "like shooting fish in a barrel," and most of the animals herded for easy shooting are old and slow-moving.

There are plenty of articles on the Net now about how "hunters" are destroying what's left of the wildlife, bu this is being spun as a GOOD thing. See, the animals are taking up valuable space to be used by over-populating humans, and the African economy needs the blood money. So good for white Americans and Europeans coming over with their money and their ego and their need to pretend they are risk-taking skillful hunters!

There are "Clubs" for businessman-assholes to arrange their safari trips and brag among themselves and pose with their dead lions. In every case, the lions were put out for an easy shoot and the "hunters" were in absolutely no danger from an attack.

Africans don't really care that much about their "heritage" or their wildlife. They want to have what Americans and Brits have, which is nice looking clothes, jewelry (not beads) and hip hop music on their boom boxes, not crap like "Mbube," the Solomon Linda bit of Zulu babble that was souped up into "Wimoweh" by Pete Seeger and then "Lion Sleeps Tonight" by The Tokens.

PS, isn't it rather cute that the lion was named "Cecil?" In America or the U.K. the lion would've been given some "African" name. But in Africa, they thought an English-sounding name was better!

Irony: this Dr. Palmer asshole who is so BRAVE when it comes to killing old animals paraded in front of him, is now in hiding. Somehow, even with his crossbow skills, he doesn't have the guts to walk around in public and return fire should anyone be hunting him.

His website is down, his Facebook page is gone, his YELP page is loaded with insults, and hopefully the public will have a long memory on this, and not lose interest in torturing the bastard and making sure he doesn't have the money to ever go on a "safari" again.

And so this blog offers a little third-finger salute to Dr. Walter Palmer the Bastard of Bloomington, who has a history of lies and sadism. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse," but he'll probably get off and in a week, go back to bleeding his patients. He'll laugh off Sharon Osbourne's warning: "Walter Palmer is Satan. I don't know how anyone could go to this man for dental services after this. He is a killer. Beware!"

Below, "DENTIST!" as performed in ICELANDIC. That's because this blog likes to offer its "music hunters" rare items that can't be found elsewhere. And no animal was killed in the creation of the download.


SEEING LESS OF MORAVEC - Ivan Moravec Dead at 84

It will come as a surprise for most of you to read that Ivan Moravec is dead. You didn't know he was alive, did you?

Along with a variety of pianists (oh, Alfred Brendel, Earl Wild, Guiomar Novaes, Ruth Laredo etc.) Moravec (November 9 1930-July 27 2015) was a minor name compared to keyboard superstars Horowitz and Rubinstein. Vinyl fans helped these other pianists find an audience. Some recorded for budget or sonic specialty labels. If you couldn't afford a brilliant Chopin set from Rubinstein, you could find Madame Novaes cheaper on Vox and Moravec's more stereophile pressings on the aptly named Connoisseur Society label. Other pianists specialized in composers that the big guys didn't bother with (Aldo Ciccolini recorded Satie and Ronald Smith recorded Alkan).

Classical fans often discovered that the "minor" performers were often as good or better than the bigger names. Writing for The New York Times, Steve Smith declared that for the Chopin nocturnes, nothing could beat the "astonishing" Moravec for both sound and performance. An irony here is that I prefer Alexander Brailowsky on the nocturnes, but what the fuck do I know? Frankly, I'm not that much of an expert that I was asked to review classical music that often. Early on, I relied on Herbert Russcol's book to shape my tastes (he was the Rolling Stone guide for long-hair music).

Mr. Smith praised Moravec's "extraordinary dynamic shading and gracious shaping of each gemlike work," and despite "a crowded field," voted Moravec's album as "…an essential document" for any Chopin fan.

The obit from the UK Telegraph checked the Czech as "one of the 20th-century’s greatest interpreters of Chopin; his sensitive and poetic pianism created a pure and honest sound that could transport his audience to another world, leaving behind all sense of time and place."

It's of course, a perversity of this blog that your download is a work of Debussy, not Chopin. The main reason is Debussy is on CD and the rest of my Moravec on vinyl, so it was the easiest to digitize for you. Moravec's catalog includes great performances on many masters, including Mozart; his recording of the Piano Concerto in E Flat was considered definitive enough to be on the soundtrack to the movie "Amadeus."

The UK Telegraph must be quoted for an insight into the man and his work: "Balding, stocky and with a large round face, Moravec looked every bit like a pre-war bank manager. Yet his warmth and charm were ever-present, and he was known to join members of the audience for a beer after concerts. Seemingly immune to criticism, fashion or fads, he appeared uninterested in pursuing a high-profile career. Even when the opportunity to live in the West presented itself, Moravec – no supporter of Communism – returned to his home in Prague." Moravec's ordinary temperament of genius included his eccentric need to tinker with whatever piano he was going to play.

The reason the UK Telegraph and other British papers have run large obits on Moravec is that he was often on tour in England. He had a strong relationship with Libor Pesek (another Czech) who ran the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, and with Sir Neville Marriner and his prolific Academy of St Martin in the Fields. He also had a happy relationship with Zuzana Moravec, his wife and travel-partner through the years.

Below, part of Debussy's musical interpretations of glistening water images, is "Poissons d'Or" which technically translates as gold fish. No password on the download. If there was, it would've been swordfish.

DEBUSSY Poissons d'Or from IMAGES suite, performed by Moravec

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Ray Jessel "Life Sucks and Then You Die"

Well, yes. And Ray Jessel died on July 17th, age 85.

But in some kind of bizarre Benjamin Button way, Ray Jessel managed to find life very rewarding in the years when most of his contemporaries were either retired, obliviously stuck in a nursing home, or dead.

I mean, how many 84 year-olds suddenly get raves from all the judges on "America's Got Talent" AND end up tossed off the show for being politically incorrect?

It happened not long ago, 2014 in fact. Ray, a veteran songwriter who also wrote sketches for The Carol Burnett Show and The Smothers Brothers Show in the 60's and 70's, appeared as a virtual unknown. Which he pretty much was, when it came to performing.

The judges all ADORED the song. But elements of the GAY/LESBIAN/TRANSGENDER crowd detested it. They felt the old guy was making fun of trannies...the now-sacred group that has Caitlyn Jenner for a godmother. In truth, Ray's song was harmless. If anything, it was just a very easy one-joke novelty item, and not nearly the best song in his catalog.

Jokes about "he being a she" go back to silent films. And nobody got in a huff over that famous "Some Like It Hot" moment when Jack Lemmon sourly pulled off his wig. He shouted at smitten Joe E. Brown, "I'm a MAN!" And Brown's classic comeback: "Nobody's perfect!"

Somehow things went from a crying game to a denying game...and poor ol' Ray was denied a chance to move on and get to the next round of "America's Got Talent."

The good news for Ray was that the show gave him the fame that was not his for the past decade. Back around 2005, Ray had scored good reviews for his cabaret show titled "Life Sucks and Then You Die." The show, ironically enough, got raves from gay and lesbian critics and probably had a very varied audience that included old queens as much as old Jewish couples. He also put out a CD (no, an album, not a codeword for a certain type of person). It was after "America's Got Talent" that he began to get significant bookings.

In fact, just last month, Ray was in Australia, appearing at a festival with a bunch of comics and variety acts, and even that old CD herself, Dame Edna/Barry Humphries.

Jessel's odd musical journey began in Wales in 1929. He attended the University of Wales, but started his career in Canada, working for the "Spring Thaw" comedy revue. That led him to New York, where he wrote for Julius Monk's revues, including the 1960 "Dressed to the Nines" show. By 1965 he was on Broadway, via the semi-hit musical "Baker Street," starring Fritz Weaver. A song from the show, "A Married Man," was even recorded by Richard Burton. Comedy sketches and music for TV shows followed, including the epic "LOVE BOAT - THE MUSICAL" starring Ethel Merman, Carol Channing, Ann Miller, and Cab Calloway. Jessel was worked on the "Head of the Class" series. Meanwhile, Jessel and his partner Cynthia Thompson began to place songs with the few prosperous cabaret-type acts, including "Whatever Happened To Melody?" recorded by Michael Feinstein and "I'm All Right Now" from John Pizzarelli. In 2002 Ray first tried a one-man show in California, at the Gardenia Room in Hollywood, and then brought it across the country to "Don't Tell Mama," the notorious cabaret club in New York. And...he kept on going.

How many people in their mid-80's are capable of taking to the stage...and are welcomed to do so? I don't know what the circumstances are, regarding his demise, but this guy had a pretty fortunate life, to be able to get laughs and travel literally halfway around the world, at a time when so many his age were just muttering "life sucks."

WHAT SHE'S GOT (The Penis Song) Ray Jessel


Below, two versions of "The Bill Dana Show" theme. The music's a bit more fun than the show, which does not hold up all that well, despite three great stars: grimacing Jonathan Harris as Jose's boss, squinty Don Adams as the hotel detective, and Dana himself as "lovable" bellhop Jose.

For those who don't remember (probably 90% of anyone reading this), at one time Bill Dana's record albums were best-sellers. A comedy writer (born William Szathmary), Dana (his mother's name) was working for Steve Allen when he came up with a mild gag for a quick sketch: a Latino Santa Claus. It was keyed to Santa's "ho ho ho" and the confusing "J as H" of Latino names, such as Jose Jimenez.

Dana ended up playing Jose on Steve's show, and the rest is jistory. Er, history. Dana was amused that a "Jungarian Hew" was now a superstar. If you listen to those classic albums, it was good jokes, not just the funny voice that made them successful. Bill's routine as a hapless astronaut was even released as a single. He got a lot of attention when it was played by astronauts at Cape Canaveral.

Dialect comedy has gone in and out of fashion over the years. A hundred years ago, every ethnic accent was a big laugh in vaudeville and on 78 rpm discs. Dutch, Italian, Jewish, "Negro," rural Southerner, Scotsman…nobody was left out. Moving on to radio, and there was "The Mad Russian" and "Parkyakarkus" and the entire "Allen's Alley" roster of rube Titus Moody, Irishman Ajax Cassidy, Jewish Mrs. Nussbaum and noisy Southerner Senator Claghorn. And yes, Amos and Andy. And lots more.

In the late 50's and early 60's, ethnic comedy was still a howl, and "Amos and Andy" re-runs (with an all black cast) were not yet banned. Desi Arnaz was famous thanks to his comical Cuban accent, Mel Blanc portrayed a Mexican named Cy who said "Si" and, yes, Bill Dana made a living as Jose Jimenez. He kept trying to make that character less and less a part of his act. One of his albums had Jose on one side, Bill on the other.

By the early 70's, Dana officially declared Jose "dead," to the cheers of Chicanos, Latinos and Hispanics. He put out "Hoo Hah," a Jewish-comedy parody of "Hee Haw." Funny, "Hee Haw" was fine with Southerners despite the heavy reliance on stereotypes. Why? Because Southerners were comfortable with it, while Latinos somehow thought "Jose" was an insult. If Dana wasn't a Jew, maybe the character would've been considered ok. What is comedy? Comedy can be recognition laughter (which would be corny Southerners laughing at their own redneck traits on "Hee Haw," and later in Jeff Foxxworthy's "You might be a redneck" routines.) Comedy, more often, is simply not pretty. There's the shock comedy of sadism, rudeness, slapstick and insults. "The little guy" from Chaplin's tramp to Harry Langdon, Lou Costello, George Gobel even to Rowan Atkinson's Mr. Bean and beyond, is often socially inept, foolish and caught in embarrassing situations. The problem with Little Jose Jimenez was that there weren't many other Latino characters on TV, and at least Desi Arnaz had a hot wife. And was actually Latino.

While Bill Dana explored other ways of making a living (he wrote the famous "All in the Family" episode guest-starring Sammy Davis Jr.) ethnic comedy in the 70's was alternately praised and panned. Think about the confusion when Bill Cosby's non-racial humor was sneered at in favor of Flip Wilson, Richard Pryor and Redd Foxx. Replacing Dana, the Hungarian Jew, was Freddie Prinze, hal Hungarian-Jew and half Puerto Rican. When he played a Chicano on "Chico and the Man," he drew howls of protest because he wasn't Mexican. Why didn't that guy just put a gun to his head?

Today, ethnic humor is only tolerated if the perp is of the same ethnic group and is making so much money nobody dares to say a word (hello, Tyler Perry). However if the ethnic group isn't too loud, then it might be ok (recall "Miss Swann" on "MAD TV," as played by Alex Borstein). But be careful: Sarah Silverman did some Asian jokes and was hounded by publicity seeking Japanese avenger Guy Aoki until she nearly lost her mind. Good thing he wasn't around when Judy Tenuta was doing that Yoko Ono imitation.

Bill Dana, now over 90, is on Facebook but rarely posts anything. Nostalgic fans still find laughs in the well-constructed jokes that made those early Jose Jimenez albums big hits, but "PC" considerations have destroyed his legacy. Ironically, haters of Jose seem to love Guillermo Rodriguez.

Guillermo, the porcine sidekick on Jimmy Kimmel's show, exhibits every Latin stereotype there is: nasal voice, pudgy face, obese body, happy ignorance of anything cultural, and the habit of being drunk. His best known bit is to show up at red carpet events and interview stars with bribes of Tequila shots. Guillermo is not all that far removed from the banned "Frito Bandito" character of TV commercials, but there are now enough Latinos on TV that nobody can say "oh, they're ALL fat, nasal and homely." Not Jennifer Lopez. Not Sofia Vergara.

The PC police do stay vigilant, and sometimes they need to be. Paula Dean, the doyenne of fatty cooking and Southern racism, was way out of line in taking a photo as "Lucy" with her son as "Ricky," when it involved actually using "brownface." Neither Dana, Prinze, or any other Latino comedy character from the past ever did that, and Desi Arnaz's complexion was hardly even tan.

Did Desi care too much if his Ricky Ricardo character sometimes lapsed into excited Spanish? Probably not. It was something Gregory Sierra's character of Chano did on "Barney Miller" a generation later. Desi probably had a good sense of humor about his trademark accent, and such sure-fire gags as arguing with Lucy ("I dun't!" "You DUN'T?" "No, I dun't!") As for Dana, he's a lovely guy. He once mentioned to me how fiercely devoted he was to his alter ego. He turned down a car ad that would've brought him in tons of money, because the ad agency thought it would be funny to have Jose pulled over by a cop. The cop would realize Jose wasn't speeding, it was just a smooth-riding car. Bill: "I wasn't gonna let a cop lay a hand on Jose."

Musically speaking, Dana's theme song was intended to echo the spirit of Don Quixote, the valiant tilter of windmills. It had the stereotypical trumpet which, only a few years later, another fucking Jew (Herb Alpert) would use while fronting his Tijuana Brass. I assume that Latinos who hate Bill Dana and loathed Freddie Prinze will try to ban Herb's music, next. That Jew made money by exploiting Mexicans! As head of A&M records, he surely didn't do enough to promote real Latino Sergio Mendez. And let's not even discuss Julius Wechter and his Baja Marimba Band.

All seriousness aside, enjoy the two versions of the theme song. One is from Carl Brandt, who was a veteran arranger at Warner Bros., and also worked with Spike Jones. The other is by Raymond Antonini, better known as Ray Anthony. The big band trumpet star is 93 now, and you can find out more about him by visiting





Somehow the link for "All the Nuns with Guns" lapsed.

Folks (ill, or not), if you come across some link that ain't working, leave a comment. I'll most likely find it and re-up.

"Nuns" is a G.E. Smith song with Paul Simon on backing vocals. Even most Paul Simon fans don't know about this rarity. In fact, if you listen closely, you can hardly hear him in the mix. But he's there, and that's part of the quirk on this obscure but catchy tune.

Most people don't know about the album, and come to think of it, I wouldn't have, if Jim Delehant (who was an exec at Atantic Records back then) hadn't handed it to me, figuring it would be something I'd enjoy. Which I did.

Some will remember G.E. Smith for being the somewhat crazed-looking guitarist leading the "Saturday Night Live" band (1985-95). He also married Gilda Radner, worked with Dan Hartman and toured with Hall and Oates. Among his compositions; a co-write credit on the "Wayne's World" theme song.

There's a DVD documentary on the guy, and on YouTube some live performances with his band Moonalice (including a twangy version of "A Whiter Shade of Pale." Smith's stinging guitar is very evident on this track, but you also get to hear him sing.


Thursday, July 09, 2015

"IF YOU SEE KAY" A fuckin' tasty treat from SWEETPIE

I don't know how much money he made off me, but in my disc jockey days, I did play SWEETPIE's "If You See Kay" quite a bit.

One of the rules at the radio station was "you can't curse. It's ok if an ARTIST says it on VINYL, but not YOU."

Naturally I took every opportunity to play snippets of Lenny Bruce or George Carlin, and regularly offered Zappa's "Lonesome Cowboy Burt" with the happy shout at the end, "You hot little bitch!" Ah, "Prince of Blends" that I was, I segued that line into "Bitch" by the Rolling Stones.

When I had a spare minute to shake the listeners up, I played an oddity called "If You See Kay." I discovered it surreptitiously tucked into the grooves of a Warner Bros."loss leader" album. No, Sweetpie, who sang the thing, wasn't officially on their label, but they mixed it in just the same. There were some very cool people at Warners in those days, and for a disc jockey wanting to play a wide variety of music, the Warners "loss leader" sampler albums made it seem like I had a much more monumental record collection than I did back then.

Since Warners was not promoting him, I had no idea who Sweetpie was. I figured he was some old black blues man, but it turned out that he was a white hippie weirdo. His 1972 album on The Fugs' ESP label is "Pleasure Pudding LIVE AT FAT CITY." Among the hippie-dippie tracks: "Let's Boogie," "This Bitter Earth" "Too Drunk to Ball," "Vermont - A Lazy Man's Colorado" and "Kay." Through the 70's, Sweetpie shocked and annoyed East Coast audiences (especially in Massachusetts)

Sweetpie (Paul Winer) is still alive and well, and lives in Quartzite, Arizona where he runs a funky-lookin' bookstore and, as always, sports wild hair, a wild beard, and is more prone to wear more on his head than anywhere else. The nudist-pianist certainly has good reason not to wear much in Arizona, so a single whats-it around his genitalia suffices. One tooth in his lower jaw apparently suffices, too, and might warn people against too much sweet pie.

Happily, you can find plenty of Sweetpie on YouTube, thanks to Todd Anderson who got him to both sing and recall his greatest hits. Aside from "If You See Kay," Sweetpie is known for the sing-along "Fuck 'Em If They Can't Take a Joke," which was popularized by Bette Midler. Just what is original, what is legend, what is owed to Memphis Slim, or what was just part of the R.Crumb Boogie subculture of the day…most people are way too baked and/or old to recall with any certainty.

Below, a live rendition of "If You See Kay" from Our Hippie in Arizona. The 1972 album? You can download it at the website (yes, they expect payment). F.U.C.K. to the greedheads, Zinfarts and Hans Diverticulitis slobs who never drop some money in a singer's cup. And if you're in Quartzite, Arizona, and female, go pay homage to Sweetpie's cup. It's all he wears. Everyone else, buy something, there's a lot of odd stuff in the store that might be considered priceless.

SweetPie If You See Kay

"IF YOU SEE KAY" Randy Howard

Another tune with an "IF YOU SEE KAY" pun? Yes. While not as vivid as Sweetpie's jazzy number, it's a good 'un. It comes from the late Randy Howard.

Ol' Randy was a redneck's redneck. The proof is that he got killed in a gunfight. And he wouldn't be a redneck's redneck unless it was an unnecessary gunfight.

Before we examine his colorful last moments, you might NOT be a redneck if…your first thought is "Who the FUCK is Randy Howard?" Since I'm not a redneck, I only vaguely knew about him before his colorful death. While I'm a fan of a wide range of C&W including Homer & Jethro, Juice Newton, Mindy McCready, George Jones and plenty of others, and even owned a Johnny Paycheck "Greatest Hits," I'm not that strong on the overtly redneck world of Merle, Hank III, NASCAR, rebel flags, and the Randy Howard types.

Howard, a "hard-partying, gun-toting country caricature" (quoting the Fox News obit) gained attention in 1983 with his "All-American Redneck" album. The title track did well, but didn't propel Howard to stardom. At best, he was a solid opening act for the usual trouble-makers, and he could fill some venues on his own, too.

It's a testament to his abilities that he was still making some kind of a living from music over the next 20 years, and circa 2006, he gruffly deadpanned his way through "If You See Kay" live, while opening for one of the more popular "outlaw" stars. The sound ain't too bad on this cowboy boot. Nine years later, and Howard was hiding out in a cabin in Lynchburg, pissed off about his mounting legal problems.

Randy's offenses were just the redneck usuals; driving without a valid license, reckless driving under the influence, being reckless with a gun. It's the latter problem that ended his life.

The aging All-American redneck had enough of a price on his head to make him attractive to a local bounty hunter. Howard did not want to go quietly. He allegedly shot first, and the bounty hunter defended himself. What makes this ring true is that the bounty hunter had to be hospitalized. You don't shoot a guy then somehow fire a shot into yourself for a "he shot first" defense. The man was not expecting to shoot at all, since the reward on him and the jail time involved were fairly minor. Howard overreacted, and it was over.

Apparently Randy Howard did not have any last words. Not "Aw, shit." Or a demure, "F-U-C-K." Here's "If You See Kay..."


"Tell Me...How Your Urine Hits The Sink" - Dirk Hamilton

Over at Elektra in 1978, they thought they had the second coming of Van Morrison in Dirk Hamilton. Or another "new Dylan."

The lyrics for title track "Meet Me at the Crux" were scribbled all over the back cover. The idea was that anyone browsing the album would be awed by the song's edgy profundity.

The song opens: "Horace Tidas was murdered by the hatred that he leveled on himself. Guilty weighted, he walked around pretending he was somebody else..."

A while later, Dirk focuses his attention on an exotic dancer in a bar:

"Blame your mama. Egg a duck. I'm watchin' what your doin' and what your doin' sucks. It ain't bad timin' it ain't bad luck. When will you Meet Me at the Crux."

(Yes, ala Dylan, Dirk invented his own punctuation.)

A woman who seemed to know Horace Tidas: "She's blind but she sure can feel. She's crippled and she reverently kneels, in thanks for the new pair of wheels he got thrown in with the deals that he maimed her to seal."

This leads to another Dylanesque put-down of the woman with the sucky occupation:

"I'm watchin' your behind, out on the dance floor shakin' at eye level all the time. Stop and take a breather. Let me freshen up your drink. Explain to me in detail how your urine hits the sink."

If you aren't gettin' it all, Mr. Jones, then listen to the download several times.

Vincent Price, in Tallulah Bankhead's dressing room, watched her pause in the midst of the conversation to hoist herself onto the sink and piss. Since it was Tallulah, Vinnie was hardly shocked or surprised. He didn't go into detail how her urine hit the sink, but he did make note of this unusual event.

Other songs on Dirk's album include "Mouth Full of Suck" and "Billboard on the Moon," and his follow-up disc featured "Moses & Me" and "Colder than Mexican Snow." Challenging stuff, no? Dirk may have left Elektra scratching their heads, but he's kept sharp, with many more albums. The full details are on the bearing his name.

This intro-Dirktion could mark the beginning of a new artist you'll want to start following and collecting. If so, you can leave a thanks in the comment section. You can also use the comment section to explain in detail how your urine hits the sink.

Urine Luck! Dirk's a Click Away