Showing posts with label postrhythmic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label postrhythmic. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Yowl . . . or Crazy in Moloch!

A friend just turned me on to The Shaggs, the 1960s New Hampshire teen-girl group that Frank Zappa proclaimed "better than the Beatles."

Well, better than Yoko Ono's "Kiss Kiss Kiss," anyway.

Above, we hear The Shaggs perform "My Pal Foot Foot." If I were a cynical man, I would say "My Ass Ass, Pal."

Oh, wait. I
am a cynical man.

If only they'd thought to fake orgasms and call it "the bridge," "My Pal Foot Foot" (wink, wink) coulda gone straight to the top of the pops. The Shaggs could have could have made it after all.


if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go write the song that will make me a star -- "Ima Go Puke in a Bucket and Call It Vichyssoise."

Lyrically, "Ima Go Puke in a Bucket and Call It Vichyssoise" will be simplistic, yet profound . . . and postverbal. Musically, it will be both "outsider" and "antifolk," with thrash/death-metal overtones. I wouldn't argue if you called it "post-antirhythmic hardcore punk."

ON THE other hand -- turning our musical thoughts back to The Shaggs -- "My Cutie" ain't bad. Seriously.

It's kind of got a pre-B-52s vibe within a folk-rock framework. "I'll give it a 77 and a half, Dick. There's a beat in there somewhere, and dancing is so yesterday's bourgeois rhythmic conformity, you f***ing fascist tool of musical repression."

Now, where's my bucket? For I'm with you in Rockland.

HAT TIP: Michigan Silverback.