Saturday, March 07, 2009
Under construction
Making some changes for possible move to Typepad. Links and whatnot up for grabs at the moment. See you soon.
And now, the Cars of War:
And now, the Cars of War:
// posted by KC45s @ 11:23 AM 
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
45s: Pickin' and grinnin'
It's hard to believe Jerry Reed is dead. Every time I saw or heard the guy he was going 10,000 MPH, but I guess none of us can outrun fate. Not just a country legend, not just the Alabama Wild Man, but a platinum-circle member of the Burt Reynolds posse. We reprint our tribute to a pop culture Renaissance Man, and lest it be forgotten, a hell of a guitar player. The New York Times obit is here.
"When You're Hot You're Hot," by Jerry Reed
Written by Jerry Reed
"When You’re Hot You’re Hot" is the rarest kind of pop hit: a song that means to be funny and succeeds.
Let’s be clear on the latter. The category does not, CAN NOT, include the novelty song, that dark continent of "My Ding-a-ling" and Ray Stevens and harmonizing chipmunks. Few novelty songs are funny on the first listen. Weird Al, I am looking in your direction, you cultural war criminal, you UN-banned substance. None, however, survive the second.
"When You’re Hot You’re Hot" distinguishes itself from the novelty song genre by being funny and original. If you find shiftless mildly criminal rednecks to be funny, that is, and you bet I do, son, you bet I do.
On film or on record Reed sounds like his fast hands and very fast mouth are about eight steps behind what must be a brain operating at a speed that bends light and time. "When You’re Hot You’re Hot" is no exception. I’m not sure you’d call his vocal style singing proper. The enthusiasm behind the talking, though—so exuberant, though non-auctioneers should not attempt to sing along.
As for the lyrics, we can all relate to an American tale of a crap game gone wrong and what happens when you try to bribe the judge. A printed excerpt is pointless—I know because I tried and it doesn't read funny. No, the record must be heard to appreciate the energy, the laughter behind the words, the immortal fade as Jerry cries, "Juuuuuudge, oh Juuuuuudge, Judgey-Poo." Better yet, find a version of the song on video, as Jerry’s huge sideburns lend him extra credibility as the teller of this particular tale.
Reed was on the upswing. His "Amos Moses" blended his super-sharp, funky playing with the lyrics’ southern humor. In fact he played so well it can seem like an incongruous mix if you forget that being funny is serious business. And Reed started doing big business. He cut two acclaimed instrumental albums with country guitar god Chet Atkins and, after "When You’re Hot You’re Hot," hosted a short-lived TV variety show—the sign of 1970s mainstream acceptance. His string of hits ranged from a sort of countrified swamp rock, usually humorous, to more straightforward countrypolitan (no surprise from a protégé of countrypolitan inventor Atkins).
And it didn’t stop there. With the 1970s Redneck Renaissance underway, Reed made movies, or rather, Burt Reynolds vehicles. He was plausibly despicable as the villain in Gator and, of course, he played the Snowman in (and recorded the theme song for) Smokey and the Bandit. How big was he? He appeared as his own animated self on Scooby-Doo.
In a minor postmodern mind fuck, he later appeared as a villain in a Walter Matthau-Robin Williams comedy. Somewhere in there he also recorded a tribute album to Jim Croce. Well, everyone knew he was eccentric.
"When You're Hot You're Hot," by Jerry Reed
Written by Jerry Reed
"When You’re Hot You’re Hot" is the rarest kind of pop hit: a song that means to be funny and succeeds.
Let’s be clear on the latter. The category does not, CAN NOT, include the novelty song, that dark continent of "My Ding-a-ling" and Ray Stevens and harmonizing chipmunks. Few novelty songs are funny on the first listen. Weird Al, I am looking in your direction, you cultural war criminal, you UN-banned substance. None, however, survive the second.
"When You’re Hot You’re Hot" distinguishes itself from the novelty song genre by being funny and original. If you find shiftless mildly criminal rednecks to be funny, that is, and you bet I do, son, you bet I do.
On film or on record Reed sounds like his fast hands and very fast mouth are about eight steps behind what must be a brain operating at a speed that bends light and time. "When You’re Hot You’re Hot" is no exception. I’m not sure you’d call his vocal style singing proper. The enthusiasm behind the talking, though—so exuberant, though non-auctioneers should not attempt to sing along.
As for the lyrics, we can all relate to an American tale of a crap game gone wrong and what happens when you try to bribe the judge. A printed excerpt is pointless—I know because I tried and it doesn't read funny. No, the record must be heard to appreciate the energy, the laughter behind the words, the immortal fade as Jerry cries, "Juuuuuudge, oh Juuuuuudge, Judgey-Poo." Better yet, find a version of the song on video, as Jerry’s huge sideburns lend him extra credibility as the teller of this particular tale.
[Note: audio only here on YouTube. Be aware of bizarre accompanying images that include casino night at a nudist camp. Not as good as you'd hope.]
Those only aware of Reed as Burt Reynolds’ sidekick beware. The man threatened to become a pop culture phenomenon, and the huge success of "When You’re Hot You’re Hot" on both the pop and country charts lit the fuse. Mind you, Reed didn’t fall into his situation. Ten years of dues as a top session guy and plenty of balls saw the Alabama Wild Man through, albeit as something of a late bloomer—his first hit came around age twenty-eight.
Reed is among the few men to face down Elvis’s entourage in the studio. In the mid-Sixties the King recorded Reed’s "Guitar Man," damn near the first good song Presley had recorded since leaving the Army. The entourage then "suggested" to Jerry that he give up a piece of the profits. Peter Guralnick
I said, ‘I know how important it is to have an Elvis Presley cut. I mean, I’m thrilled to death. And we can work out a split on this record—because I do appreciate the importance of it, and what it means. But,’ I said, ‘you are not going to get any of the copyright on this damn song…. I’ll put it to you this way. You don’t need the money, and Elvis don’t need the money, and I’m making more money than I can spend right now—so why don’t we just forget we ever recorded this damn song?Reed kept his cut. Song released, units moved. Sensing possible redemption, or at least escape from the penal colony of soundtrack mediocrity, Elvis then recorded Reed’s excellent "U.S. Male" and in a very Reed-like interpretation, giving him the second good song he had recorded since leaving the Army.
Reed was on the upswing. His "Amos Moses" blended his super-sharp, funky playing with the lyrics’ southern humor. In fact he played so well it can seem like an incongruous mix if you forget that being funny is serious business. And Reed started doing big business. He cut two acclaimed instrumental albums with country guitar god Chet Atkins and, after "When You’re Hot You’re Hot," hosted a short-lived TV variety show—the sign of 1970s mainstream acceptance. His string of hits ranged from a sort of countrified swamp rock, usually humorous, to more straightforward countrypolitan (no surprise from a protégé of countrypolitan inventor Atkins).
And it didn’t stop there. With the 1970s Redneck Renaissance underway, Reed made movies, or rather, Burt Reynolds vehicles. He was plausibly despicable as the villain in Gator and, of course, he played the Snowman in (and recorded the theme song for) Smokey and the Bandit. How big was he? He appeared as his own animated self on Scooby-Doo.
In a minor postmodern mind fuck, he later appeared as a villain in a Walter Matthau-Robin Williams comedy. Somewhere in there he also recorded a tribute album to Jim Croce. Well, everyone knew he was eccentric.
// posted by KC45s @ 10:00 PM
What does John McCain smell like this week?
Internal organs of disemboweled advisor who suggested Sarah Palin
Gunpowder from self-inflicted wound
Charred mooseburger
What the Fuck Have I Done? by Ralph Lauren
Liebermusk
Wiped boots of theocrats
Spattered amniotic fluid
Rancid barbeque
Corinthian leather inside Halliburton’s experimental time machine
Bush’s feces from eight years ago
Johnny Walker Black, if he has any sense at all
Gunpowder from self-inflicted wound
Charred mooseburger
What the Fuck Have I Done? by Ralph Lauren
Liebermusk
Wiped boots of theocrats
Spattered amniotic fluid
Rancid barbeque
Corinthian leather inside Halliburton’s experimental time machine
Bush’s feces from eight years ago
Johnny Walker Black, if he has any sense at all
// posted by KC45s @ 6:00 AM
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Mr. Show Business
Only in America could a holiday intended to celebrate workers be hijacked by Jerry Lewis.
Now in his seventh (!) decade of pop culture monstrousness, deflated again after passing through his personal steroids era, another host for celebrity remora Ed McMahon, Jerry again puts the hair with the highest viscosity rating in history on the line for the Muscular Dystrophy Association. Kitsch fans and the over-eighty set will tune in to see which old favorites survived the last year. Those who find entertainment or catharsis in watching tape of handicapped children will weep and, hopefully, give a few dollars.
Everyone else, of course, waits for Jerry to top his manic "God made a mistake!" comment, just one of the many moments of bad taste, breathtaking self-pity, and poor impulse control that has made the Telethon a legendary example of celebrity gone awry for over thirty years.
Of course, it's a good cause. No, I don't mean supporting the ongoing careers of very dear friends like Tony Orlando and, if he's alive, Chad Everett. Or an all-expenses paid journey back to yesteryear--to yestereon!--in search of ... oh, God, I can't imagine.
I mean the real reason for the telethon. As hard as it can be to remember, there are people with muscular dystrophy involved. Thousands of them. That fact even occurs to Jerry intermittently. How often remains unclear. This year's slogan (a takeoff on a political commercial) is JERRY LEWIS IS GOOD FOR AMERICA!. Sadly, however, this suggests a spoof less than it hints that MD only crosses Jerry's mind at rare moments, probably when his mental process, twisted by all those years of Percodan addiction, alights against Jerry's conscious wishes on the handful of still-functioning ganglia responsible for self-awareness.
Still, Jerry has helped raise tens of millions of dollars, and the only tradeoff is that we let him pretend he's relevant for a little while. Both are wonderful expressions of human compassion on our part.
// posted by KC45s @ 4:00 PM
Saturday, August 30, 2008
And it was just like a great dark wing
Following up from last night...Why Sarah Palin? Or. if you prefer, what the hell was McCain thinking?
Damned if I know. But let's try some of that there uninformed speculation that provides a living for so many people.
Let's say, for the sake of argument, that the hard-core cons are taking the long view. Palin's headed up to the lab, where they'll put her on the slab and attempt to transform another likable and unthreatening politician with soft ethics into a "regular gal" willing to serve as the figurehead of an administration run by conservatism's True Believers.
Because no one with a functioning frontal lobe thinks Palin's the answer in 2008. Granted, that leaves out most of pundits, bloggers, and media pros commenting on her candidacy today. But come on. Palin's novelty might last a week, less if Hurricane Gustav hits New Orleans and sends a 100 MPH ill wind through Minneapolis on Tuesday. This year she's Mondale. Harriet Myers. The guy who replaced Rob Morrow on Northern Exposure.
But there will be other years. As Tom Watson says:
...but I think the lady has a future. The Palin Launch was something out of a movie script: feisty unknown plucked from obscurity and her husband's fishing boat to astound the world and set up shop a heartbeat away from the most powerful office in the world.I'd take it further. Someone in the conservative hive thinks this woman has the potential to be the GOP's Obama. Come from nowhere. Rags-to-riches backstory. Departure from the white male paradigm. No more is necessary. That's about all you can cram into a thirty-second spot, anyway.
She may be a disaster, not that this counts you out; Dan Quayle was a punchline and he served four years as VP. Anyway, she doesn't have to win. That's all on McCain. Her job is to get attention (check), start to create the Palin brand, and connect with the donors and future consiglieres that even today are rising like Man-Thing from the oily darkness that is Karl Rove's soul.
Personally, I think it'll be tough for her to remain a player. Alaska's a long way from D.C. even when you're beloved of the fundies. Hell, a lot of GOPers have complained about having to go all the way to Minnesota for their convention. Alaska may not even be on James Dobson's map of the Flat Earth.
But there's a story here beyond the shock value, beyond the already-tired "Hail Mary" analogy. The people who made this decision for McCain don't go in for novelty items. They're about as whimsical as a cluster bomb. I don't have enough confidence in the Democratic Party to believe the election will be a blowout. But if it is, and if the media needs stories to keep it interested, maybe someone could ask, Why Sarah Palin?
Update: Let me add, I'm not horrified by Palin being "one heartbeat away from the presidency," and she definitely is, because her running mate's a man who probably couldn't get a life insurance policy if he did anything else for a living. To be clear, I'm appalled by her political beliefs. But they're no worse than Huckabee's and clearly reflect the Jesus-rode-a-dinosaur faction that controls the Republican Party.
Being liberal, I'm not concerned with her gender. Being a romantic, I tend to think a good president just needs common sense and a work ethic and decision-making, traits you can find in a hundred different fields of endeavor just by walking out the front door. And the lack of experience argument bothers me about as much with her as it did with Obama. Lincoln lacked experience, too. Since Abe's picture's on my money, I'm confident saying he turned out okay. If a couple of years in the Senate and eighteen months on the campaign trail have boosted Obama to competence--as his supporters (and I) argue--there's no reason a few years in the Executive Branch couldn't do the same for Palin, assuming McCain can live long enough for her to learn (again, that's no given).
As for the rest of her positives and negatives, who knows? Unlike other bloggers, pundits, and "experts," I can't see the future. That stuff only matters because they need fuel to feed their narratives. Count me out of that shit.
No matter what her shortcomings, though, the nomination of a woman for VP means the GOP's been dragged into the twenty-first century in one more way. That's a net gain for the process, maybe even for the country.
// posted by KC45s @ 8:22 AM
Friday, August 29, 2008
TV Listings
Vance Ennui (8 p.m., Cartoon Network) As Vance recounts his origins for his therapist, a flashback shows the Underwhelmed Ubermensch being selected by an advanced alien race to defend the universe. The never-told-before tale takes an unexpected turn, however, when Vance reveals that his powers change day-by-day based on the deliberations of a council of super-beings made up of Moses, Buddha, Sherlock Holmes, dread Cthulhu, Michael Corleone, Shiva, Ronald Reagan, PicassoHulk, Miles Davis, and Mrs. Butterworth.Tyler Perry's The Yodas (7 p.m., Sci Fi) It's get-rich-scheme time again when wacky neighbor Obi-Wan Norton enters Yoda in the swamp planet's annual "Make Me Laugh" contest. The Jedi Master manages to remain straight-faced despite the antics of the galaxy's funniest beings, and it looks like first prize is his--until he learns he must face actor Gabriel Byrne (as himself) in the final. Sample dialogue: "The Force is my ally, but against a melancholy Irishman, powerless it is."
Tyler Perry's The Yodas (7:30 p.m., Sci Fi) The Jedi Master is astonished to find out his voice sounds like that of the lead singer from Canned Heat. Parental advisory (stale pop culture references).
Rod Serling's Cliché Theater (8 p.m., A&E) In tonight's chilling episode, a mortgage broker with a split-level turkey on his hands meets a mysterious figure willing to purchase the place for its 2006 price, if the broker will substitute for him at work for one day. Horror ensues when the broker shows up for the job and realizes the sucker was ... the Grim Reaper!
Gnome Chomsky (8:30 p.m., PBS) The diminutive anarcho-syndicalist suspects a conspiracy when his alternative energy breakthrough--a car powered by custard--vanishes the same day he starts receiving pies from a mysterious admirer.
// posted by KC45s @ 6:58 PM
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Lunch Trek: The Single Panel
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
What does John McCain smell like this week?
Unmistakable stench of decayPotpourri at house number six
Repeated applications of POW, by Chanel
Mark Helperin's musk
Flop sweat
Green gunk in Karl Rove's veins
Leathery manhood
Frothing rage
Vinegar
Whatever it is, it smells even worse than Don Imus
// posted by KC45s @ 10:41 AM
Lunch Trek: The Single Panel
