Welcome back to Chriswasanon. Dr Who. Dr Who...Dr. Who hooo the Tardis, Dr. Who. What a great song that was but and what a great post we have here for you. We have ze New York Dollski and the Rock 'n' Roll hall of ass flame fame. A fab Les Paul guitar with a man speeding away. Steve Jones is Bert Weedon on amphetamines. The TrAnScRiBer has knocked out some more of the Interland's favourite radio show. It's Jonesy's Jukebox innit! So without any more of this or much of that lets get right to rolling this Easter Egg down the hill.
Chriswasanon.
Tina IS at the controls.
The New Cars with Todd Rundgren March 20, 2006
Steve: I’ve got to ask you, I know we’re talking about The New Cars, but I’ve got to ask you cos I’m a huge fan of that first Dolls album. What was that like, working on that?
Todd: Um, it was a sort of controlled chaos. Um, the band, you know, had something of a work ethic, I suppose, particularly David Jo, he was trying to keep, you know, trying to be the ringmaster of everything and they envisioned themselves as like the Rolling Stones. They liked to dress up in drag, you know and like…and Johnny Thunders liked to whip his hair up like Keith Moon (sic) used to do and flail at his guitar in that halfassed manner that Keith still does and um, it was such a, you know, it was like there was the band, that was five guys and then there were like the twenty or thirty people a night who were just like there to…
Steve: Hanging out.
Todd: …observe the spectacle. A lot of rock critics and a lot of groupies of various kinds and other sorts of liggers and hangers-on. And, yeah, it was all about trying to get enough focus just to put a take down, you know, let’s get a take down somehow. And, yeah it was ironic that you know, when it came to the mixing part of it, they just got in too much of a hurry. I think we could have had a better-sounding record in the end. But they just got into, “We’ve got a gig in Long Island, hurry up and mix it.” And that was one of my, well, it wasn’t my earliest production, but it was one in which I went back on one of my golden rules which is: You don’t allow the band in the room while you’re mixing. Because, particularly if it their first album, cos the drummer only hears the drums and the guitar player only hears the guitar and the bass player…all these things and before you know it, all the faders are pinned up at the top of the board and you just can’t get anything any louder. People usually like it better when they come in and hear it all kind of close and then make some adjustments.
Steve: Was your head space a professional head space at that time or was you kind of crazy as well at the time?
Todd: Oh, no…I’m pretty much of a disciplinarian in the studio. I also had the benefit of Jack Douglas was there, helping with the engineering and stuff. And you know, the band wasn’t, despite their surly attitude wasn’t really that hard to work with. You know, it’s just as I said, like, an old Mafioso neighbor of theirs was their manager and he really didn’t know anything about managing a band and uh, and they didn’t know anything about being managed, either and point of fact, they hardly made it past their second album before they just blew up.
Steve: Right. Did they approach you to do their second album?
Todd: Uh, no I don’t believe so. No, I think they had it in their mind that they wanted uh, uh…what’s his name? Was it Richard Gotterer?
Steve: That old fifities guy, right?
Elliot Easton: Oh, Gotterer? Gotterer maybe?
Todd: I think that was, I think that was him.
Elliot: Mr. I Want Candy?
Todd: Yes, I believe. They wanted the guy who originally did the, who was it, The Shangri-Las.
Steve: Right, right.
Elliot: Oh, Shadow Morton.
Todd: Shadow Morton. That was it. Shadow Morton. And they said that he spent most of his time asleep on the console.
Steve: It sounded like it.
Elliot: So you guys had something in common, Steve. You guys have Malcolm McLaren in common because didn’t he put the Dolls in red patent leather with a communist flag behind them and bring them over to England.
Steve: Yeah, and then they got rid of him.
Elliot: And that was the end of the band, basically.
Steve: Yeah, I think so. The other thing that was in common, we had the same guitar. A white Les Paul that Sylvain, I think, had. McLaren brought that back and I used that for all through the Pistols. But I…dunno if it was a pain in the ass to do that album, but I love that album. I think that’s a brilliant album. I think you did a great job.
Todd: It wasn’t so much a pain, it just was…a circus in a sense, you know. I’m not used to have that much attending personnel when you’re trying to make a record and, you know, it was very distracting for the band. But…they were all about the scene…they were just making music in the midst of the whole scene that they were creating.
Steve: Yeah. Well, I used to do speed and play along to that album for hours and hours (general laughter) trying to learn how to play guitar.
Todd: Get your chops together.
Steve: Yeah, that’s it. I’d been literally playing three months before the Pistols did our first gig and that was one of the albums and one of The Stooges albums…
Todd: It probably didn’t take you very long to get better than Johnny Thunders.
Steve: Well…yeah, yeah. He had a vibe though, Thunders. You know what I mean?
Todd: Well, that’s the thing. He was all vibe, you know. He was totally all vibe. You could say that he didn’t necessarily play the same solo twice because sometimes he couldn’t even find the same place on the neck two times in a row, you know. Yeah, he was the one most likely to be at the nether edges of inebriation during the process.
Steve: But he had a good rock and roll spirit.
Elliot: Yeah, he did. I saw him at The Speakeasy when we were making our first album, which we made in London at our studios and I think he had Jerry Nolan playing drums and some of those guys. Did you go, Greg, to The Speakeasy that night…it was Johnny Thunders.
Todd: The Speak? Goin’ down to The Speak?
Steve: In London.
Greg Hawkes: Yeah, I think I did.
Steve: Yeah, I used to play with him down there.
Elliot: It was great. Well this would be like, late ’77.
Steve: Yeah.
Elliot: And uh, you know, he did like, “Pipeline”, he did some like, really cool stuff and it sounded good.
Steve: You never got paid. He’d just run off with all the money and go and cop.
Elliot: It was rough, but like you say, it had a great vibe to it.
Todd: Ah, the good old days. Well, that is the essence of rock and roll. One guy screwing everybody else and running off with the money.
Elliot: And then proceeding to die.
Todd: And then the rest of them die. And that’s rock and roll.
_____________________________________
Later in the interview they discuss the Pistols’ induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and their refusal to participate in the ceremony.
Todd: I’m glad you guys set the precedent. I was hoping somebody would do it before I ever got nominated. But that’s never going to happen anyway. But people keep saying, “Oh, please let us campaign for you.” You know, “Let us get you in the Hall of Fame.” Pulleeze, you know.
Steve: Do you think that more people would do that, now that we’ve done that?
Todd: I hope so.
Steve: Yeah. So you’re not that fond of it, either.
Todd: Well, I mean it’s…if you’ve ever been there it’s more like the Mall of Fame, you know. It’s just all slick. You know…you go to the House Of Blues, it’s more like rock and roll than going to the actual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So, you know, if was a real Rock Hall of Fame it would be some old, bombed-out warehouse somewhere…it would be unsafe…and yeah. I’ve never been into the concept of trying to take music that’s supposed to be extemporaneous and uh, and really sort of anti-establishment in a way and then making an establishment for it. In that sense it takes some of the fun out.
Steve: I wouldn’t mind it if they gave you like, medical or something. (general laughter) You know what I mean? Some insurance or something.
Todd: A retirement plan would be great, a pension.
Steve: I wanted to get my statue and sell it on ebay and see how much money I could get for it. But we’ve all decided just not even to accept them, just let them do what they will with them. Burn them at the fire…
Elliot: It’s funny to be embraced by an industry who dropped you, one after another…
Steve: I dunno. When I first heard about it and few months ago, I thought, “Oh, great. We’re being acknowledged for something.” And then after speaking to John and a few other people about it when I delved into it more, I realized how it is nonsense.
Todd: Well, it is sort of nonsense when you see Lou Reed acting publicly hurt because Jefferson Airplane got in before he did or something like that and you think…you always thought like, he would have been above that and look at how it just like, suckers people in, in a way.
Steve: You see…you find out, I guess, your true colors, in a way.
Todd: I suppose.
Steve: You know what I mean? I know we get older and we’re meant to be more, you know, what’s the word…have a bit more dignity or whatever, but I think the dignifying thing to do is to not be, not care about it.
Elliot: What I love is the bands where, you know, one member won’t play with the others and all this kind of stuff…
Steve: Oh, to hell with them. (all laugh)
Joint Easter Bunny production Floratina and Chriswasanon co-operative.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Just to let you know...
that Jack's shack is down. The computer supply unit that powers all the various bits and bobs on a computer blew up and took the motherboard with it. Jack is currently looking for another temporary solution. Other than that all is normal here, no more dead swans to be found in Fife, though touristicos with digi cams have been flocking to Cellardyke to have the place pointed out where that dead whooper swan came ashore. Also I like Steve's hirsute myspace profile pic, visually appalling to deplilators but it is in - a tactile touchy feely sense - I am reliably informed, like hugging someone in a mohair jumper.
Whether Tina will bring on another transcription I do not know but I would just like to say a thank you for all your comments - each and everyone is mused over and noted. We appreciate your support of this our transcriptorium. Have a good weekend whatever you do.
UPDATUM. Well having the man in your top 8, you are aware of any profile pic changes he makes. So first it was hairy arse then it was, tattoo me with mercy, then for a brief second a long haired nay silken sun blondy Steve on a motorbike looking back to camera but now it is the silken hat on a cleric's head. It is all complete Pontiffism and if you wish to see the changes for yourself - add the Pontiff on
www.myspace.com/sexjones
and after the add, keep him fairly and squarely in your top 8 for to fail in this is heresy and he will delete you faster than a rampaging boot sector root kit virus deletes all your files on your computer - possibly. Steppin' up - I have some suspicion that Tina will post something else - what me worry Shloemoe as I'm going off to watch Dr. Who on a neighbour's telly!
Chriswasanon.
Whether Tina will bring on another transcription I do not know but I would just like to say a thank you for all your comments - each and everyone is mused over and noted. We appreciate your support of this our transcriptorium. Have a good weekend whatever you do.
UPDATUM. Well having the man in your top 8, you are aware of any profile pic changes he makes. So first it was hairy arse then it was, tattoo me with mercy, then for a brief second a long haired nay silken sun blondy Steve on a motorbike looking back to camera but now it is the silken hat on a cleric's head. It is all complete Pontiffism and if you wish to see the changes for yourself - add the Pontiff on
www.myspace.com/sexjones
and after the add, keep him fairly and squarely in your top 8 for to fail in this is heresy and he will delete you faster than a rampaging boot sector root kit virus deletes all your files on your computer - possibly. Steppin' up - I have some suspicion that Tina will post something else - what me worry Shloemoe as I'm going off to watch Dr. Who on a neighbour's telly!
Chriswasanon.
Friday, April 14, 2006
The Angel Of Anarchy In All His Gory Glory April 13, 2006
The first musical set ends and alien sci-fi music fades in.
Steve: (Sounding raspy and evil like the very Devil) Yes. I’m back. The Devil’s Concubine. MMmmm. MMMMMM. You thought you got rid of me, didn’t you? But I’m back with a vengeance, darlings. More satanic majesties. I am the Angel of Anarchy! And you can’t defy! That was Upper Crust. “Let Them Eat Rock”. MMMmmm. Never better words spoken in the Queen’s english. Let the peasants eat rock. They’re not good for anything else. Lower the drawbridge, raise the taxes!
Then we had the Bangkok Five. I love that middle word. Bangkok! Mmmm…veddy erotic. That song was called…WHERE'S MY MUSIC? (music surges again) Mmmm. I like that spacey sound. It’s a new, improved sound…from my spaceship up in the stratosphere looking down at all you peons. “Who’s Gonna Take Us Alive?” The Bangkok Five. Then we had a long, long lost ancestor of mine, Danko Jones and that song was called, “Hot Damn Woman”. MMMmm. I love sexual overtones. Then we had “Breaking The Law”! That’s verse five of Chapter Four in my bible. Breaking the law! And we started off with Fu Manchu and that song was called, “Written In Stone”.
Everything I say is written in stone, somewhere.
Stonehenge, there’s some words about me somewhere there. (his music stops for a few beats, then starts again) Where’s my godd…there it is.
(Mr. Shovel can be heard laughing in the background)
We’ve got to find some new music, Mr. Shovel, (trying to keep from laughing) that’s not working. I’m gonna visit The Duke…and ask him if he has any harlequin music. I will be back. Woouuahhh. Woooaaaah. Take it away.
--------------------------------------------
(Intro to the second set. The space music has been replaced by ominous monster chiller music)
The Angel Of Anarchy: Yes. The Hounds of The Baskerville, Lady Darbanville and you other morons out there with your gremlings. You have no idea of the pain I feel.
(now with reverb)
I was born of an infant with a nail in my head, do you understand? I can’t remove it, it’s lodged in-between my membranes. I’ve had attempted surgery. But I’m gonna have fun this summer banging nails in other people’s heads. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
-------------------------------------------
(The second set of songs has just ended )
The Angel Of Anarchy: …that one was called, “She’s Got The Jack”. I don’t know what they’re inferring to, but its some sexual overtones or undertones. That’s another band from Ireland, The Undertones.
(The Angel is struggling with something, must be the reverb button)
Urg! Urk! ug…that’s more like it! (echoes)
That’s better. (laughter in the background) Don’t laugh! I’m in my castle. That’s what I was missing.
(now the sinister music fades back in)
We had Iggy Pop and The Stooges. Oooh, Stoooges, that’s a fantastic word. The song was called, “Gimme Danger”, in the manger.
Ain’t that where Jesus was born, in the manger?
(doesn’t realize that his mood music has trailed off)
Not the minge, the manger, you FOOL...danger! What is wrong with you?!!
It’s Easter this week…eeaagghhHHHHH!
(lapses into a convulsion of agonized outcries that echo throughout his “castle”)
Where’s my music!!
(sinister music slithers back in again as Mr. Shovel laughs)
We started off with Danzig. Hmmmmm. That’s better. I feel fuzzy wuzzy now. Yesss. “Dirty Black Summer” .
Is my potion ready? It’s wearing off again!!
(evil music surges, even louder this time)
WooooaaaGGHHH!!! (more agonized hollering like a mad B-movie scientist, it sounds like it's painful)
(they go to commercial)
--------------------------------------------
(intro to third set of songs)
Angel Of Anarchy: (we hear his groans and that evil music)
If you’re just tuning in, I am the Angel Of Anarchy.
Prepare to be defied.
There’s a whole wasteland that isn’t discovered and…
I WILL LAY MY HAND DOWN ON YOU…
AND YOU WILL BE CONVERTED – to insanity…
and YOU WILL BE MINE!!! MINE! MINE MINE!!!!
-------------------------------------------
(The third set of songs has just ended. The evil music is back, but now the reverb is missing)
Angel Of Anarchy: You are listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox, Angel Of Anarchy…that was the HELLacopters and that song was called, “Everything’s On TV”.
Defiance.
Then we had Kiss – some concubines of mine – from a later era. From back in time, when make-up was cheap. That song was called, “Strutter”.
Ohhh. I shudder to think.
And then we had Turbo Negro from Lichtenstein or somewhere in that vicinity. That’s song is called, “Self Destructo Bust” - that’s a WARNING for all you nubiles with plastic knockers. It could happen to you! Be careful. You must find the right surgeon. There has been many mistakes made. I will come ‘round and bang nails in them! OOOOH, can you imagine. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE CARNAGE?
Then we had Wolf Mother “White Unicorn” was the name of that song. Oohaaaaghh. Unicorn, that’s a sign from God. Keep him away. No more unicorns for me.
Then we started off with my old friend, Alex Harvey doing a good classic called, “Faith Healer”. (groans)
Why is it so cold in here, Mr. Shovel? It’s meant to be HELL! (the reverb is back, by the way) Put some more humans on the fire! Stoke up this place. They don’t call it’s “Stoker’s Dracula” for nothing. STOKE IT UP!! WHAAAAA!
-------------------------------------------
(fade in, monster scary music just before the forth set of songs)
Angel Of Anarchy: Yesss…I love the descent on the harpsichord. It makes my cloak stand on end.
That REMINDS ME Mr. Shovel, I must get a new turban. I’ve lost the jewels in this one. It MUST have been last week, when I beheaded twenty children…for insolence. And let me warn you it could happen to you, too.
No one is extinct from my madness.
(aside to Mr. Shovel) Does that make sense?
Mr. Shovel: No.
Angel of Anarchy: Well, it SOUNDED good at the time.
(the music has paused and Mr. Shovel can be heard laughing, then the music fades back in)
Yess. HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME, MR. SHOVEL! IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT I SAY!
It’s all the Devil’s work.
(aside again to Mr. Shovel) Is it the "Devil"...who am I?
(Mr. Shovel is still laughing in the b.g)
(bellowing again) I’M SOMEONE LIKE HIM!! I can’t go out in the sunshine.
Mr. Shovel: That would be a vampire.
Angel of Anarchy: (suddenly reasonable) Yes, I don’t think I’m a vampire, am I? (umpy again) What do you want me to be? I DON’T KNOW! Waaaaa! WAGHH! WAGAAHHHHHHHH!
--------------------------------------------
(The forth set of songs has just ended. Fade in scary music yet again)
Angel of Anarchy: (utters a sort of sigh-groan, complaining now) I’m so tired of this voice, (creepy music has faded and he is echoing a capella) but I must go to the end. Just to be true to myself. I’d feel like such a phony if I’d come back in with the Steve Jones cockney voice right now. It doesn’t make any sense. (the evil music settles back in like a fog) So I will continue to two bells. BEAR WITH ME Los Angeles, Orange County, a little bit of that PCH and Ventura Boulevard.
I’m gonna spray you all with concubine and incubus-succubus. (nagging) You will enjoy, do you hear me? I will MAKE you understand.
Anyway, never mind that. That was the New York Dolls from their second album (groans, getting a bit worn out) Ohh. Jesus Christ. “Too Much Too Soon” was the name of that son…(catches himself) ALBUM. (to himself) Idiot. That song was, “Who Are The Mystery Girls”.
(matter-of-factly)
I wouldn’t mind a mystery girl tonight myself! Just show up at the doorstep, would you and do what I tell you. You will hate it, but you will please an old man. I will give you a cloak and a Jonesy’s Jukebox pin. (burst of laughter from both, then) STOP IT, I’M NOT MEANT TO LAUGH, THIS IS THE WRONG CHARACTER.
We had The Damned, yes. THAT name rings a bell. THE DAAAAAMNED! And that song was called, “Problem Child”. If any of you problem parents have problem childs, you must bring ‘em to me…and I will correct them. I HAVE WAYS! I will put ‘em in my army for two years and they will come back saying, “Yes ma’am, no ma’am” That IS what you want, isn’t it? You don’t want insolence from juveniles! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? (clears throat) Never mind.
Then we had Early Man and that song was called, (very closely) “Feeding Frenzy”. YEESS. I like THAT. That rings true to my…membranes with the nail in it. Feeeeeding frenzzzy. Oh, Burning Brides! “Leave No Ashes”. That song was called, “Suicide”...it’s not. But it’s next to the 1. that said “Suicide”…I just LIKE THAT WORD! (perturbed) Who cares what it’s called!! It’s just rock and roll. Yesss. I created a form of rock and roll, myself. (cue scary background music again) Yeh, I love that declining harpsichord sound. That just makes my hat stand on end. That makes my pointed shoes curl up. My jaffa cake shoes. Do you ever heard of jaffa cake, Mr. Shovel?
Mr. Shovel: No.
Angel of Anarchy: (almost convivial) Quite delicious. Although they did give me heartburn. But take some Pepto Bismol. Only the type that has smoke comin’ out of it, though. I can’t drink normal drinks they have to have smoke comin’ out my drinks. MMMMMMmmm. (continuing his song listing) Then we had The Sword. “Age Of Winters” Uuugh. Listen, doesn’t that sound right with my voice? (becomes more aggravated) I’ll say it again for you for you idiots who ain’t listening. The SWORD. “AGE OF WINTERS”!! WOOOAAHH. And that song was called, “Iron Swan”. Yessss.
We’re almost there, Mr. Shovel. Where’s my cane? I want to beat something! Bring me that rat from the corner. I want to knock his block off. I’m annoyed with myself and everyone around me. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but who cares!! (getting louder) I’M THE MAN WHO CAN FOR TWO HOURS A DAAAAAYYY!!! WaaaaAAAA! DUKE!
(last little bit of the show is all that’s left after this last set of commercials. The sound of lightly tormented beings of some kind or other - that sound oddly like our host - echo in the distance through the “castle”)
Angel of Anarchy: Why do my pets make noise…haven’t they been fed, Mr. Shovel?! (commanding) Feed that hog! What are they doing? Are they having sexual intercourse again what is going on I thought you put the salt peter in their food. (a bit poncey here) You MUST calm those animals, Mister Shovel. (PUNCHY AGAIN) I pay you good money, board and keep. (there’s that music again) Why do you do this? Such insolence. Yesss, I love the sounds of my beasts…gargoyles…jackabites and apes…monkeys with silver heads, personally painted by me. (the beasts are still making noises) Silver paint. I love the way it seeps into their heads and gives ‘em lead poisoning. A slow death (“no master…no master” can be heard in background) SILENCE! I’m gonna leave you with Uriah Heap and this song is called “Wizard”. How could you NOT play a song that’s called “Wizard”, I have no idea what it’s like, I just love the title. I WILL BE BACK tomorrow at twelve bells with CC Deville. No, NOT Lady Darbanville! No, NOT Cecil B. DeMille, CC DEVILLE, YOU FOOLS! Twelve bells. Ding dong. Ding dong.
The end.
Steve: (Sounding raspy and evil like the very Devil) Yes. I’m back. The Devil’s Concubine. MMmmm. MMMMMM. You thought you got rid of me, didn’t you? But I’m back with a vengeance, darlings. More satanic majesties. I am the Angel of Anarchy! And you can’t defy! That was Upper Crust. “Let Them Eat Rock”. MMMmmm. Never better words spoken in the Queen’s english. Let the peasants eat rock. They’re not good for anything else. Lower the drawbridge, raise the taxes!
Then we had the Bangkok Five. I love that middle word. Bangkok! Mmmm…veddy erotic. That song was called…WHERE'S MY MUSIC? (music surges again) Mmmm. I like that spacey sound. It’s a new, improved sound…from my spaceship up in the stratosphere looking down at all you peons. “Who’s Gonna Take Us Alive?” The Bangkok Five. Then we had a long, long lost ancestor of mine, Danko Jones and that song was called, “Hot Damn Woman”. MMMmm. I love sexual overtones. Then we had “Breaking The Law”! That’s verse five of Chapter Four in my bible. Breaking the law! And we started off with Fu Manchu and that song was called, “Written In Stone”.
Everything I say is written in stone, somewhere.
Stonehenge, there’s some words about me somewhere there. (his music stops for a few beats, then starts again) Where’s my godd…there it is.
(Mr. Shovel can be heard laughing in the background)
We’ve got to find some new music, Mr. Shovel, (trying to keep from laughing) that’s not working. I’m gonna visit The Duke…and ask him if he has any harlequin music. I will be back. Woouuahhh. Woooaaaah. Take it away.
--------------------------------------------
(Intro to the second set. The space music has been replaced by ominous monster chiller music)
The Angel Of Anarchy: Yes. The Hounds of The Baskerville, Lady Darbanville and you other morons out there with your gremlings. You have no idea of the pain I feel.
(now with reverb)
I was born of an infant with a nail in my head, do you understand? I can’t remove it, it’s lodged in-between my membranes. I’ve had attempted surgery. But I’m gonna have fun this summer banging nails in other people’s heads. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
-------------------------------------------
(The second set of songs has just ended )
The Angel Of Anarchy: …that one was called, “She’s Got The Jack”. I don’t know what they’re inferring to, but its some sexual overtones or undertones. That’s another band from Ireland, The Undertones.
(The Angel is struggling with something, must be the reverb button)
Urg! Urk! ug…that’s more like it! (echoes)
That’s better. (laughter in the background) Don’t laugh! I’m in my castle. That’s what I was missing.
(now the sinister music fades back in)
We had Iggy Pop and The Stooges. Oooh, Stoooges, that’s a fantastic word. The song was called, “Gimme Danger”, in the manger.
Ain’t that where Jesus was born, in the manger?
(doesn’t realize that his mood music has trailed off)
Not the minge, the manger, you FOOL...danger! What is wrong with you?!!
It’s Easter this week…eeaagghhHHHHH!
(lapses into a convulsion of agonized outcries that echo throughout his “castle”)
Where’s my music!!
(sinister music slithers back in again as Mr. Shovel laughs)
We started off with Danzig. Hmmmmm. That’s better. I feel fuzzy wuzzy now. Yesss. “Dirty Black Summer” .
Is my potion ready? It’s wearing off again!!
(evil music surges, even louder this time)
WooooaaaGGHHH!!! (more agonized hollering like a mad B-movie scientist, it sounds like it's painful)
(they go to commercial)
--------------------------------------------
(intro to third set of songs)
Angel Of Anarchy: (we hear his groans and that evil music)
If you’re just tuning in, I am the Angel Of Anarchy.
Prepare to be defied.
There’s a whole wasteland that isn’t discovered and…
I WILL LAY MY HAND DOWN ON YOU…
AND YOU WILL BE CONVERTED – to insanity…
and YOU WILL BE MINE!!! MINE! MINE MINE!!!!
-------------------------------------------
(The third set of songs has just ended. The evil music is back, but now the reverb is missing)
Angel Of Anarchy: You are listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox, Angel Of Anarchy…that was the HELLacopters and that song was called, “Everything’s On TV”.
Defiance.
Then we had Kiss – some concubines of mine – from a later era. From back in time, when make-up was cheap. That song was called, “Strutter”.
Ohhh. I shudder to think.
And then we had Turbo Negro from Lichtenstein or somewhere in that vicinity. That’s song is called, “Self Destructo Bust” - that’s a WARNING for all you nubiles with plastic knockers. It could happen to you! Be careful. You must find the right surgeon. There has been many mistakes made. I will come ‘round and bang nails in them! OOOOH, can you imagine. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE CARNAGE?
Then we had Wolf Mother “White Unicorn” was the name of that song. Oohaaaaghh. Unicorn, that’s a sign from God. Keep him away. No more unicorns for me.
Then we started off with my old friend, Alex Harvey doing a good classic called, “Faith Healer”. (groans)
Why is it so cold in here, Mr. Shovel? It’s meant to be HELL! (the reverb is back, by the way) Put some more humans on the fire! Stoke up this place. They don’t call it’s “Stoker’s Dracula” for nothing. STOKE IT UP!! WHAAAAA!
-------------------------------------------
(fade in, monster scary music just before the forth set of songs)
Angel Of Anarchy: Yesss…I love the descent on the harpsichord. It makes my cloak stand on end.
That REMINDS ME Mr. Shovel, I must get a new turban. I’ve lost the jewels in this one. It MUST have been last week, when I beheaded twenty children…for insolence. And let me warn you it could happen to you, too.
No one is extinct from my madness.
(aside to Mr. Shovel) Does that make sense?
Mr. Shovel: No.
Angel of Anarchy: Well, it SOUNDED good at the time.
(the music has paused and Mr. Shovel can be heard laughing, then the music fades back in)
Yess. HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME, MR. SHOVEL! IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT I SAY!
It’s all the Devil’s work.
(aside again to Mr. Shovel) Is it the "Devil"...who am I?
(Mr. Shovel is still laughing in the b.g)
(bellowing again) I’M SOMEONE LIKE HIM!! I can’t go out in the sunshine.
Mr. Shovel: That would be a vampire.
Angel of Anarchy: (suddenly reasonable) Yes, I don’t think I’m a vampire, am I? (umpy again) What do you want me to be? I DON’T KNOW! Waaaaa! WAGHH! WAGAAHHHHHHHH!
--------------------------------------------
(The forth set of songs has just ended. Fade in scary music yet again)
Angel of Anarchy: (utters a sort of sigh-groan, complaining now) I’m so tired of this voice, (creepy music has faded and he is echoing a capella) but I must go to the end. Just to be true to myself. I’d feel like such a phony if I’d come back in with the Steve Jones cockney voice right now. It doesn’t make any sense. (the evil music settles back in like a fog) So I will continue to two bells. BEAR WITH ME Los Angeles, Orange County, a little bit of that PCH and Ventura Boulevard.
I’m gonna spray you all with concubine and incubus-succubus. (nagging) You will enjoy, do you hear me? I will MAKE you understand.
Anyway, never mind that. That was the New York Dolls from their second album (groans, getting a bit worn out) Ohh. Jesus Christ. “Too Much Too Soon” was the name of that son…(catches himself) ALBUM. (to himself) Idiot. That song was, “Who Are The Mystery Girls”.
(matter-of-factly)
I wouldn’t mind a mystery girl tonight myself! Just show up at the doorstep, would you and do what I tell you. You will hate it, but you will please an old man. I will give you a cloak and a Jonesy’s Jukebox pin. (burst of laughter from both, then) STOP IT, I’M NOT MEANT TO LAUGH, THIS IS THE WRONG CHARACTER.
We had The Damned, yes. THAT name rings a bell. THE DAAAAAMNED! And that song was called, “Problem Child”. If any of you problem parents have problem childs, you must bring ‘em to me…and I will correct them. I HAVE WAYS! I will put ‘em in my army for two years and they will come back saying, “Yes ma’am, no ma’am” That IS what you want, isn’t it? You don’t want insolence from juveniles! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? (clears throat) Never mind.
Then we had Early Man and that song was called, (very closely) “Feeding Frenzy”. YEESS. I like THAT. That rings true to my…membranes with the nail in it. Feeeeeding frenzzzy. Oh, Burning Brides! “Leave No Ashes”. That song was called, “Suicide”...it’s not. But it’s next to the 1. that said “Suicide”…I just LIKE THAT WORD! (perturbed) Who cares what it’s called!! It’s just rock and roll. Yesss. I created a form of rock and roll, myself. (cue scary background music again) Yeh, I love that declining harpsichord sound. That just makes my hat stand on end. That makes my pointed shoes curl up. My jaffa cake shoes. Do you ever heard of jaffa cake, Mr. Shovel?
Mr. Shovel: No.
Angel of Anarchy: (almost convivial) Quite delicious. Although they did give me heartburn. But take some Pepto Bismol. Only the type that has smoke comin’ out of it, though. I can’t drink normal drinks they have to have smoke comin’ out my drinks. MMMMMMmmm. (continuing his song listing) Then we had The Sword. “Age Of Winters” Uuugh. Listen, doesn’t that sound right with my voice? (becomes more aggravated) I’ll say it again for you for you idiots who ain’t listening. The SWORD. “AGE OF WINTERS”!! WOOOAAHH. And that song was called, “Iron Swan”. Yessss.
We’re almost there, Mr. Shovel. Where’s my cane? I want to beat something! Bring me that rat from the corner. I want to knock his block off. I’m annoyed with myself and everyone around me. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but who cares!! (getting louder) I’M THE MAN WHO CAN FOR TWO HOURS A DAAAAAYYY!!! WaaaaAAAA! DUKE!
(last little bit of the show is all that’s left after this last set of commercials. The sound of lightly tormented beings of some kind or other - that sound oddly like our host - echo in the distance through the “castle”)
Angel of Anarchy: Why do my pets make noise…haven’t they been fed, Mr. Shovel?! (commanding) Feed that hog! What are they doing? Are they having sexual intercourse again what is going on I thought you put the salt peter in their food. (a bit poncey here) You MUST calm those animals, Mister Shovel. (PUNCHY AGAIN) I pay you good money, board and keep. (there’s that music again) Why do you do this? Such insolence. Yesss, I love the sounds of my beasts…gargoyles…jackabites and apes…monkeys with silver heads, personally painted by me. (the beasts are still making noises) Silver paint. I love the way it seeps into their heads and gives ‘em lead poisoning. A slow death (“no master…no master” can be heard in background) SILENCE! I’m gonna leave you with Uriah Heap and this song is called “Wizard”. How could you NOT play a song that’s called “Wizard”, I have no idea what it’s like, I just love the title. I WILL BE BACK tomorrow at twelve bells with CC Deville. No, NOT Lady Darbanville! No, NOT Cecil B. DeMille, CC DEVILLE, YOU FOOLS! Twelve bells. Ding dong. Ding dong.
The end.
April 13, 2006
Tina here. I'm thinking I might have a go at some of the Angel Of Anarchy's ranting today. Don't know if it will translate well to print. Shall I attempt?
Has a little thing like that ever stopped you before? I didn't hear him I was too busy gazing at the moon and the Pontiff. Was he in full rant and rave mode tonight er today...
Anyway if this email doesn't download soon I'm off.
Sidney Eliz II Windsor Vicious
Steve John Paul II Jones
Paul Scales of Justice Cook
John Mrs. Thatcher Rotten.
With the line-up complete, we immediately set about putting our plan into effect...
Chriswasanon
Tina again. It appears that St. Stephen was overtaken again by The Angel of Anarchy, warning us that we will all be defied and defiled. At least he gave notice. We've met The Angel before, it's just that he hadn't until now revealed his name. He is difficult to portray as he tends to appear only in backlogs, announcing songs and making pronouncements. One has to hear him in order to fully grasp his ominousness.
Where had it come from, this Angel of Anarchy? What was it's purpose - to cause as much fuss and controversy as possible. Bahahahahahahah!
Chriswasanon should have gone to Art School...I heard a little of the rebroadcast last night and that voice is so loaded with menace and an awful foreboding of things to come, things that we lonely scribes cannot possibly comprehend except through consulation of the Akashic record. Now deep in the stygian dungeons - isn't this not a whit alike to the Hallow'een show when Steve played the whole of Screamin' Lord Sutch's, "Jack the Ripper?" So deek you then at yon white robed awful mage, the Haly Pontiff. See he cooketh up unnamed punishments in bulletined thou shalt nots for all Jacobites by name. Lend an ear lend an ear. Number 8 number 8 number 8.
From doctrinal grimoires that whisper in black illuminated letters of the dark terrors. These sent to seep fear and creeping colly wobbles into the bairn-like hearts of all. With his crozier he stirs the pot of now and from the future tosses the willing supplicants into the cauldron where their supine bodies fall with ane foul hiss into the fug and smirr of his concentration. This act of surrender shall bring consuming power to his myspace profile page. But something more drives him forward. Can he but now retrieve that off-white Les Paul lazlo custom Gibson guitar with the two bird stickers from way back in the last century, then the Moorcockian Maol Chalum Mac Labhrainn ‘son of Labhrann' circle will be fulfilled. The pogoing pissing hordes will rise once more from their punk wood slump and the cry of Anarchy peace and freedom will be heard on the lips and in the deeds of all throughout the Interland. Improbably. Now read on...
Or is it just Mr. Shov ell's busy fingers on the mixing board making creepy voices?
Chriswasanon
Has a little thing like that ever stopped you before? I didn't hear him I was too busy gazing at the moon and the Pontiff. Was he in full rant and rave mode tonight er today...
Anyway if this email doesn't download soon I'm off.
Sidney Eliz II Windsor Vicious
Steve John Paul II Jones
Paul Scales of Justice Cook
John Mrs. Thatcher Rotten.
With the line-up complete, we immediately set about putting our plan into effect...
Chriswasanon
Tina again. It appears that St. Stephen was overtaken again by The Angel of Anarchy, warning us that we will all be defied and defiled. At least he gave notice. We've met The Angel before, it's just that he hadn't until now revealed his name. He is difficult to portray as he tends to appear only in backlogs, announcing songs and making pronouncements. One has to hear him in order to fully grasp his ominousness.
Where had it come from, this Angel of Anarchy? What was it's purpose - to cause as much fuss and controversy as possible. Bahahahahahahah!
Chriswasanon should have gone to Art School...I heard a little of the rebroadcast last night and that voice is so loaded with menace and an awful foreboding of things to come, things that we lonely scribes cannot possibly comprehend except through consulation of the Akashic record. Now deep in the stygian dungeons - isn't this not a whit alike to the Hallow'een show when Steve played the whole of Screamin' Lord Sutch's, "Jack the Ripper?" So deek you then at yon white robed awful mage, the Haly Pontiff. See he cooketh up unnamed punishments in bulletined thou shalt nots for all Jacobites by name. Lend an ear lend an ear. Number 8 number 8 number 8.
From doctrinal grimoires that whisper in black illuminated letters of the dark terrors. These sent to seep fear and creeping colly wobbles into the bairn-like hearts of all. With his crozier he stirs the pot of now and from the future tosses the willing supplicants into the cauldron where their supine bodies fall with ane foul hiss into the fug and smirr of his concentration. This act of surrender shall bring consuming power to his myspace profile page. But something more drives him forward. Can he but now retrieve that off-white Les Paul lazlo custom Gibson guitar with the two bird stickers from way back in the last century, then the Moorcockian Maol Chalum Mac Labhrainn ‘son of Labhrann' circle will be fulfilled. The pogoing pissing hordes will rise once more from their punk wood slump and the cry of Anarchy peace and freedom will be heard on the lips and in the deeds of all throughout the Interland. Improbably. Now read on...
Or is it just Mr. Shov ell's busy fingers on the mixing board making creepy voices?
Chriswasanon
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Rambling About The Range - April 12
Welcome back to Chriswasanon, a sort of blog about myspace and a radio show. Nice to see our old hit counter trucking along. I hope that Car's banned from myspace post got through. Cos this hare is an information service and we on the chriswasanon the old chriswasanon believe that the pony post must get through. So give me a home - where the buffalo roam and I will show you a very muddy carpet. The stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of Dallas.
"I tried to ban it, tried very hard y'know but they said there would be lawsuits and I thought welllll." Promoter on the Dallas leg of the tour of Sex Pistols in 78.
God I wish I could play the old moothie, er mouth organ. Some valuable information from Aaron on cleaning one. Move over Larry Adler, I'm coming to getcha. So we been on a wooding mission and got ourselves a hot little fire going. Was that a shooting star? I like that cowboys t-shirt you are wearing Roger, nice black label. SEX? Ooh I'm not that kind of a dogie rounder-upper. Oh clobber! More beans...with yer hominy grits and them pork chitterlins? Well I reckon somethings in this little old world of ours aint worth that amount of jumping up and down over and you know Roge...there are times when a man's jist damn well got to get away from it all for a while. Or something. Take it away Tina.
The comments Steve posts from the cast of characters on his MySpace can be quite humorous and even educational.
Aaron gave The Pontiff some props as well as some advice on the care and cleaning of a harmonica: “Yesterday's show was amazing. You were crazed! How to Do Basic Maintenance on Your Harmonica. Cleaning Steps: 1. Tap the harmonica vigorously against the palm of your hand before and after playing. 2. Run tap water through the harmonica to dissolve saliva and food deposits. 3. Shake out the excess water, then tap the harmonica against your hand. 4. Hold your head in an upright position when playing, which will keep excess saliva from clogging up your instrument. 5. Play with a "dry" mouth. 6. Use a soft cotton cloth to wipe the harmonica."
There's this one from Doppler: “Really, if you could get into more detail about the stench of your harmonica during my lunch hour that would really be appreciated. Dear, God, you continue to defy. F'in A!”
Here’s today’s selection.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve: (speaks as he’s tuning his guitar) You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. A gorgeous day out today, Wednesday. One minute after twelve bells. It really is a nice day out. Let’s tune this thing up, give it it’s weekly tune-up. I just washed my harmonica, like I was told to. Tap it on your hand and then you run water through it. It still stinks, a bit. Maybe you’ve got to put a, some disinfectant would be good.
Mr. Shovel: At that point, you need to use a…like a toothbrush.
Steve: Oh, you do? Is that what’s…you just making that up or is that…
Mr. Shovel: No. But it if was new and it wasn’t stinky, you could just rinse it out.
Steve: (sniffing the harmonica) Now it smells of…not pleasant. It doesn’t smell of saliva, it just has a weird like...old socks or something. Oooh…I dunno if I can blow this today. Maybe I’ll just grin and bear it, just cos that’s how dedicated I am to entertaining Los Angeles and Orange County…and a little bit of the valley. (blows a note on his harmonica) See that? See what I do for you lot? Spoil you lot rotten. (blows a couple more) And a high note. (blows a high note) And all the notes. (and he does) Oh, I see. When you blow on it a bit, it smells a bit better. (blows a few flourishes, very lovely) It sounds so jolly doesn’t that? Just going up and down, jolly…like “The war’s over!” (blows a jovial bit) It’s like that “Anarchy” - the French bloke singing “Anarchy”. (mimicks the Jerzimy “L’ Anarchie Pour Le UK” from The Swindle)
What’s going on, Shovel? Anything new in this exciting world that we live in?
Mr. Shovel: We’ve got to put together a cd of all your little goofy songs.
Steve: Yeah. I think we need to put a cd together of our best in-the-studio performances of people who have been on here. I think that would be good.
Mr. Shovel: But if you did just your goofy songs, then you know, you wouldn’t have to pay anybody else for publishing.
Steve: That’s true. I don’t mind paying someone, though. If it’s a good thing, you know, they wrote the bleedin’ songs. They deserve it. You know what I mean? But can they do this? (blows notes a bit haphazardly up and down harmonica)
Mr. Shovel: Well, that’s what makes it special.
Steve: Exactly. (picks some notes on guitar) Hello. We’re monkeys in a cage right now Mr. Shovel. There’s a big load of people outside staring at us. (treats us to a few more notes) It’s better. I don’t think…it smells like, like damp bread or something. (sniffs yet again) That’s what it smells like. Like wet bread?
Mr. Shovel: It’s the yeast.
Steve: Yeahh. (keeps inhaling the essence of the aromatically challenged musical device) Maybe if I blow harder, I’ll get all that white stuff out of it.
Mr. Shovel: You see how I just let that one fly right by?
Steve: (stops blowing momentarily) You shouldn’t have brought attention to it. Now you’re making everyone think. (starts up again, laughing as he goes) See? It’s happy now. (embarks upon an impromptu Pontiff instrumental harmonica and guitar composition, of a slightly melancholy variety) That was a little song I’ve written for a camp fire out in the outback of uh…Texas. (our host has slipped into a southwestern cowboy accent for this bit of storytelling strumming along with his guitar as he goes)
It was me and Jeffro (Jethro) just sittin’ there, cookin’ some blackeyed peas. Lookin’ up at the moonlight and lookin’ at the Big Dipper and all dem other stars out there in the whole universe. And me and my horsie, uh, what’s my horsie’s name? Trigger, we was just uh, Trigger was over there shakin’ his tail feather, getting’ them flies off of the back of his bum and uh, me and Jeffro we were thinkin’ what it would be like to write a song about y’know, out on the range with the buffalo and herd ‘em up, them cows there and movin’ ‘em to the other side of the…Texas. And what a hard job it is, bein’ a cowpoke. But there ain’t nuffin’ like-a bein’ a cowpoke out on the range. With the blackeyed peas and the sheepskin chaps and all them lovely things that cowboys have to deal with. And y’know there ain’t too many women around when you’re out on the range and you know, one thing leads to another and next thing you know, Jeffro is cowpokin’ ya from behind and all you can do is kind of grin and bear it and say, “Oh, look up there, there’s the Big Dipper. God damn Jeffro, what are you doin’ boy?! GET OFF MY BACK!
And the next thing you know, there’s a little Jeffro. He come out of the back, too. Nine months later. It’s amazing technology nowadays on the range. But I cut him off at the pass and I stopped that. That ain’t happenin’ no more. (harmonica solo)
I think it’s time to play some reggae. I ain’t played a lot of reggae in a lot of time and I – my cows like listenin’ to reggae. It’s somethin’ about the beat and all that punky stuff that goes along inside the reggae rhythms and my cows seem to move along just like I want ‘em to move along from one side of Texas to the other side. So every now and again I play reggae to my cows. The seem to get a kick out of it. Especially with their hooves and their chitlins and all that kind of stuff and blackeye peas and baked beans…what else do cows eat? Oh they eat grass. I forgot. Smoke it sometimes as well. But they particularly like eating that grass cos I like that cow milk. There ain’t nuffin’ like it. Let’s play a song, Mr. Shovel.
Steppin' up? Git along you old dogies.
Joint Tina is and Chris was production.
"I tried to ban it, tried very hard y'know but they said there would be lawsuits and I thought welllll." Promoter on the Dallas leg of the tour of Sex Pistols in 78.
God I wish I could play the old moothie, er mouth organ. Some valuable information from Aaron on cleaning one. Move over Larry Adler, I'm coming to getcha. So we been on a wooding mission and got ourselves a hot little fire going. Was that a shooting star? I like that cowboys t-shirt you are wearing Roger, nice black label. SEX? Ooh I'm not that kind of a dogie rounder-upper. Oh clobber! More beans...with yer hominy grits and them pork chitterlins? Well I reckon somethings in this little old world of ours aint worth that amount of jumping up and down over and you know Roge...there are times when a man's jist damn well got to get away from it all for a while. Or something. Take it away Tina.
The comments Steve posts from the cast of characters on his MySpace can be quite humorous and even educational.
Aaron gave The Pontiff some props as well as some advice on the care and cleaning of a harmonica: “Yesterday's show was amazing. You were crazed! How to Do Basic Maintenance on Your Harmonica. Cleaning Steps: 1. Tap the harmonica vigorously against the palm of your hand before and after playing. 2. Run tap water through the harmonica to dissolve saliva and food deposits. 3. Shake out the excess water, then tap the harmonica against your hand. 4. Hold your head in an upright position when playing, which will keep excess saliva from clogging up your instrument. 5. Play with a "dry" mouth. 6. Use a soft cotton cloth to wipe the harmonica."
There's this one from Doppler: “Really, if you could get into more detail about the stench of your harmonica during my lunch hour that would really be appreciated. Dear, God, you continue to defy. F'in A!”
Here’s today’s selection.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve: (speaks as he’s tuning his guitar) You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. A gorgeous day out today, Wednesday. One minute after twelve bells. It really is a nice day out. Let’s tune this thing up, give it it’s weekly tune-up. I just washed my harmonica, like I was told to. Tap it on your hand and then you run water through it. It still stinks, a bit. Maybe you’ve got to put a, some disinfectant would be good.
Mr. Shovel: At that point, you need to use a…like a toothbrush.
Steve: Oh, you do? Is that what’s…you just making that up or is that…
Mr. Shovel: No. But it if was new and it wasn’t stinky, you could just rinse it out.
Steve: (sniffing the harmonica) Now it smells of…not pleasant. It doesn’t smell of saliva, it just has a weird like...old socks or something. Oooh…I dunno if I can blow this today. Maybe I’ll just grin and bear it, just cos that’s how dedicated I am to entertaining Los Angeles and Orange County…and a little bit of the valley. (blows a note on his harmonica) See that? See what I do for you lot? Spoil you lot rotten. (blows a couple more) And a high note. (blows a high note) And all the notes. (and he does) Oh, I see. When you blow on it a bit, it smells a bit better. (blows a few flourishes, very lovely) It sounds so jolly doesn’t that? Just going up and down, jolly…like “The war’s over!” (blows a jovial bit) It’s like that “Anarchy” - the French bloke singing “Anarchy”. (mimicks the Jerzimy “L’ Anarchie Pour Le UK” from The Swindle)
What’s going on, Shovel? Anything new in this exciting world that we live in?
Mr. Shovel: We’ve got to put together a cd of all your little goofy songs.
Steve: Yeah. I think we need to put a cd together of our best in-the-studio performances of people who have been on here. I think that would be good.
Mr. Shovel: But if you did just your goofy songs, then you know, you wouldn’t have to pay anybody else for publishing.
Steve: That’s true. I don’t mind paying someone, though. If it’s a good thing, you know, they wrote the bleedin’ songs. They deserve it. You know what I mean? But can they do this? (blows notes a bit haphazardly up and down harmonica)
Mr. Shovel: Well, that’s what makes it special.
Steve: Exactly. (picks some notes on guitar) Hello. We’re monkeys in a cage right now Mr. Shovel. There’s a big load of people outside staring at us. (treats us to a few more notes) It’s better. I don’t think…it smells like, like damp bread or something. (sniffs yet again) That’s what it smells like. Like wet bread?
Mr. Shovel: It’s the yeast.
Steve: Yeahh. (keeps inhaling the essence of the aromatically challenged musical device) Maybe if I blow harder, I’ll get all that white stuff out of it.
Mr. Shovel: You see how I just let that one fly right by?
Steve: (stops blowing momentarily) You shouldn’t have brought attention to it. Now you’re making everyone think. (starts up again, laughing as he goes) See? It’s happy now. (embarks upon an impromptu Pontiff instrumental harmonica and guitar composition, of a slightly melancholy variety) That was a little song I’ve written for a camp fire out in the outback of uh…Texas. (our host has slipped into a southwestern cowboy accent for this bit of storytelling strumming along with his guitar as he goes)
It was me and Jeffro (Jethro) just sittin’ there, cookin’ some blackeyed peas. Lookin’ up at the moonlight and lookin’ at the Big Dipper and all dem other stars out there in the whole universe. And me and my horsie, uh, what’s my horsie’s name? Trigger, we was just uh, Trigger was over there shakin’ his tail feather, getting’ them flies off of the back of his bum and uh, me and Jeffro we were thinkin’ what it would be like to write a song about y’know, out on the range with the buffalo and herd ‘em up, them cows there and movin’ ‘em to the other side of the…Texas. And what a hard job it is, bein’ a cowpoke. But there ain’t nuffin’ like-a bein’ a cowpoke out on the range. With the blackeyed peas and the sheepskin chaps and all them lovely things that cowboys have to deal with. And y’know there ain’t too many women around when you’re out on the range and you know, one thing leads to another and next thing you know, Jeffro is cowpokin’ ya from behind and all you can do is kind of grin and bear it and say, “Oh, look up there, there’s the Big Dipper. God damn Jeffro, what are you doin’ boy?! GET OFF MY BACK!
And the next thing you know, there’s a little Jeffro. He come out of the back, too. Nine months later. It’s amazing technology nowadays on the range. But I cut him off at the pass and I stopped that. That ain’t happenin’ no more. (harmonica solo)
I think it’s time to play some reggae. I ain’t played a lot of reggae in a lot of time and I – my cows like listenin’ to reggae. It’s somethin’ about the beat and all that punky stuff that goes along inside the reggae rhythms and my cows seem to move along just like I want ‘em to move along from one side of Texas to the other side. So every now and again I play reggae to my cows. The seem to get a kick out of it. Especially with their hooves and their chitlins and all that kind of stuff and blackeye peas and baked beans…what else do cows eat? Oh they eat grass. I forgot. Smoke it sometimes as well. But they particularly like eating that grass cos I like that cow milk. There ain’t nuffin’ like it. Let’s play a song, Mr. Shovel.
Steppin' up? Git along you old dogies.
Joint Tina is and Chris was production.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Hot Tub...ToO HOt - April 10, 2006
Some people bite their tongues I bite my fingers. Enough. Fresh from about 45 minutes of Craig Fergusson and a trip to an ostritch farm last night's re-run I mean. Well no sooner did I crow and rave about the hot tub possibility from yesterday's post, then Tina was on the case. Tina is like that.
So if you want to pull and really get 'em to come back to your place never mind lines of coke, soft music, etchings, Jamie Reid flags, 2 controllers on a playstation. Take Steve's advice and just say you got some 3 inch stilletos and a subscription to the history channel and then hit that crumpet in the eyeballs by pickin' up on Mr. Shovel and give 'em some of the old razzle dazzle 'em hot tub baby this evening, hot tub baby tonight - apologies to Donna Summer. Actually apologies to everybody. Ah yes when we brave Brits stood alone against the might of the Luftwaffe. Well that's what I would watch on the History Channel back to back. Squadron scramble! Cue the dogfights over Southern England. I'm bailing out now Ginger......
Tina here. All right. Here's something to tide you over. This one features a goodly amount of input from Mr. Shovel, always a treat.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve starts out the show playing an instrumental number on his guitar and harmonica.
Steve: That was a song I wrote.
Mr. Shovel: Is that your new opening theme?
Steve: It’s called “Thin Air”. You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. It’s a…
Ooh mao mao ma ma ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao ma pa ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao ba ba ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao pa pa ooh mao mao
(he gleefully sings variations on this theme, then comes to a stop)
Steve: Ooh, it’s starting to stink, this mouth organ. How do you clean it?
Mr. Shovel: Soak it in water.
Steve: Is that what you do? Just put it in water?
Mr. Shovel: Or whiskey.
Steve: No, I can’t do that. Maybe I’ll soak it in methadone or something. Oh, it stinks…cos I just take it off, I blow it here, all my germs and then I put it in the drawer and I get it out and I just realized that it’s starting to uh…smell a bit fffungus-y. Eeegh. Do we have any wipers here to clean it? Any interns, any lower eschelons who can clean my equipment?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, but who’s gonna take care of the harmonica?
Steve: (strumming his guitar as he goes along) Oohh yer good. Yer on fire. It’s cold today. Did you notice that it was cold? Yesss. I had problems this morning. I had plumber problems. I’ve had nothing to eat, no coffee, nothing. Ohh…can I get it through the two hours? There must be a wiper here, someone.
Mr. Shovel: You had a problem with your plumbing, so you couldn’t eat?
Steve: Well, I couldn’t get out the house cos the didn’t get there ‘til like, uh…what is it, like nine thirty, ten? And they were there like, an hour and a half so I left at eleven thirty to get here, which I flew along there and I had a load of twigs. Cos my house is on a concrete slab so, you know, twigs find you know, roots get in, they find a way. It’s amazing, they find a way into metal pipes. It’s the power of nature. So they come and clean them out cos it was blocked up and a couple of other things that he did. It’s all good now, two hundred dollars later.
Mr. Shovel: You got off cheap.
Steve: Yeah. My pool pump broke last week. I’ve got to get a new pump…and they convinced me to get a bigger filter and uh, I was actually thinking of getting a heater with it, too cos I’ve never had a heater there cos I just wait until the Summer and then the sun kind of heats it up but maybe you’d get more crumpet over there if you had the pool hot in the…
Mr. Shovel: I’ve got two words for ya. “Hot tub”.
Steve: Hot tub…
Mr. Shovel: Hot tub.
Steve: They’re such a pain, though. I had one before. They are a pain in the...booty. They take a lot of maintenance. There’s always like, bugs flying themselves around near ‘em. All the equipment is…they’re always damp and it ain’t worth it. Cos the amount of time that you use it, once a week, once a month…
Mr. Shovel: If your concern is trying to get more crumpet up there…
Steve: Well, swimming pool’s better.
Mr. Shovel: I don’t know about that.
Steve: It just kind of does itself and they come up once a week.
Mr. Shovel: Hot tub is the magic word.
Steve: Really?
Mr. Shovel: Um hmm…
Steve: It’s like saying, uh…”cocaine”.
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
Steve: That one used to work a lot. “I have some blow back at my house. Would you like it?” But now I say, “I have the History Channel on. Would you like to see it?” That one don’t work as much anymore. Or…”I just got a new boxed set of David Bowie. Would you like to come back and listen to it?” Oh, what other ones is there that you can use now? “I have these high heels. Would you like to come back and model them for a couple of hundred dollars?” You know, something like that.
(he takes this opportunity to launch back into the oooh mao mao thing again)
I’ve got the History Channel on
Do you want to come and see
Got the History Channel on
Do you want to come and see…
(he stops singing) Oh, I dropped me bloody pick. Oh, let’s play a song. Oh, I’ve got to take this off, man, it stinks. Let’s play some kind of bluesy stuff. Take it away, Mr. Shovel.
_________
Sometime later, after playing some records, Steve is back at it with some music of his own, so romantic.
(Roadhouse blues style)
Oh can’t you see me sitting here baby
In my water of bubbles
I’m out at the club
Looking for some love
I can’t find no action here
What is wrong
Tell me what is wrong
I gotta get me a card that says
HOT TUB on it now
What's the magic word
Is it cocaine
Is it fancy car
No it’s HOT TUB
That is the magic word
You’ve gotta see Mr. Shovel
He knows what the magic word is
I’m gonna go down to The Viper
On a Monday night
I’m looking for some love
I ain’t looking for a fight
I want a hot tub
There’s got to be some bitches
For the hot tub
But I can’t do it
Cos I don’t have the hot tub in there yet
But I can fill up my baff
And have a laugh
Let some gas out of my ass
In the hot tub
That’s what I’m talking about baby
Just wear a little ole gas mask
And it’s be just like the real thing
Hot tub hot love
Hot tub lovin hot tub
Wish washy wahshy washy
Cmon baby
Show me where the hot tub love
Is all about
Joint Tina and Chriswasanon production.
So if you want to pull and really get 'em to come back to your place never mind lines of coke, soft music, etchings, Jamie Reid flags, 2 controllers on a playstation. Take Steve's advice and just say you got some 3 inch stilletos and a subscription to the history channel and then hit that crumpet in the eyeballs by pickin' up on Mr. Shovel and give 'em some of the old razzle dazzle 'em hot tub baby this evening, hot tub baby tonight - apologies to Donna Summer. Actually apologies to everybody. Ah yes when we brave Brits stood alone against the might of the Luftwaffe. Well that's what I would watch on the History Channel back to back. Squadron scramble! Cue the dogfights over Southern England. I'm bailing out now Ginger......
Tina here. All right. Here's something to tide you over. This one features a goodly amount of input from Mr. Shovel, always a treat.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve starts out the show playing an instrumental number on his guitar and harmonica.
Steve: That was a song I wrote.
Mr. Shovel: Is that your new opening theme?
Steve: It’s called “Thin Air”. You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. It’s a…
Ooh mao mao ma ma ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao ma pa ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao ba ba ooh mao mao
Ooma mao mao pa pa ooh mao mao
(he gleefully sings variations on this theme, then comes to a stop)
Steve: Ooh, it’s starting to stink, this mouth organ. How do you clean it?
Mr. Shovel: Soak it in water.
Steve: Is that what you do? Just put it in water?
Mr. Shovel: Or whiskey.
Steve: No, I can’t do that. Maybe I’ll soak it in methadone or something. Oh, it stinks…cos I just take it off, I blow it here, all my germs and then I put it in the drawer and I get it out and I just realized that it’s starting to uh…smell a bit fffungus-y. Eeegh. Do we have any wipers here to clean it? Any interns, any lower eschelons who can clean my equipment?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, but who’s gonna take care of the harmonica?
Steve: (strumming his guitar as he goes along) Oohh yer good. Yer on fire. It’s cold today. Did you notice that it was cold? Yesss. I had problems this morning. I had plumber problems. I’ve had nothing to eat, no coffee, nothing. Ohh…can I get it through the two hours? There must be a wiper here, someone.
Mr. Shovel: You had a problem with your plumbing, so you couldn’t eat?
Steve: Well, I couldn’t get out the house cos the didn’t get there ‘til like, uh…what is it, like nine thirty, ten? And they were there like, an hour and a half so I left at eleven thirty to get here, which I flew along there and I had a load of twigs. Cos my house is on a concrete slab so, you know, twigs find you know, roots get in, they find a way. It’s amazing, they find a way into metal pipes. It’s the power of nature. So they come and clean them out cos it was blocked up and a couple of other things that he did. It’s all good now, two hundred dollars later.
Mr. Shovel: You got off cheap.
Steve: Yeah. My pool pump broke last week. I’ve got to get a new pump…and they convinced me to get a bigger filter and uh, I was actually thinking of getting a heater with it, too cos I’ve never had a heater there cos I just wait until the Summer and then the sun kind of heats it up but maybe you’d get more crumpet over there if you had the pool hot in the…
Mr. Shovel: I’ve got two words for ya. “Hot tub”.
Steve: Hot tub…
Mr. Shovel: Hot tub.
Steve: They’re such a pain, though. I had one before. They are a pain in the...booty. They take a lot of maintenance. There’s always like, bugs flying themselves around near ‘em. All the equipment is…they’re always damp and it ain’t worth it. Cos the amount of time that you use it, once a week, once a month…
Mr. Shovel: If your concern is trying to get more crumpet up there…
Steve: Well, swimming pool’s better.
Mr. Shovel: I don’t know about that.
Steve: It just kind of does itself and they come up once a week.
Mr. Shovel: Hot tub is the magic word.
Steve: Really?
Mr. Shovel: Um hmm…
Steve: It’s like saying, uh…”cocaine”.
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
Steve: That one used to work a lot. “I have some blow back at my house. Would you like it?” But now I say, “I have the History Channel on. Would you like to see it?” That one don’t work as much anymore. Or…”I just got a new boxed set of David Bowie. Would you like to come back and listen to it?” Oh, what other ones is there that you can use now? “I have these high heels. Would you like to come back and model them for a couple of hundred dollars?” You know, something like that.
(he takes this opportunity to launch back into the oooh mao mao thing again)
I’ve got the History Channel on
Do you want to come and see
Got the History Channel on
Do you want to come and see…
(he stops singing) Oh, I dropped me bloody pick. Oh, let’s play a song. Oh, I’ve got to take this off, man, it stinks. Let’s play some kind of bluesy stuff. Take it away, Mr. Shovel.
_________
Sometime later, after playing some records, Steve is back at it with some music of his own, so romantic.
(Roadhouse blues style)
Oh can’t you see me sitting here baby
In my water of bubbles
I’m out at the club
Looking for some love
I can’t find no action here
What is wrong
Tell me what is wrong
I gotta get me a card that says
HOT TUB on it now
What's the magic word
Is it cocaine
Is it fancy car
No it’s HOT TUB
That is the magic word
You’ve gotta see Mr. Shovel
He knows what the magic word is
I’m gonna go down to The Viper
On a Monday night
I’m looking for some love
I ain’t looking for a fight
I want a hot tub
There’s got to be some bitches
For the hot tub
But I can’t do it
Cos I don’t have the hot tub in there yet
But I can fill up my baff
And have a laugh
Let some gas out of my ass
In the hot tub
That’s what I’m talking about baby
Just wear a little ole gas mask
And it’s be just like the real thing
Hot tub hot love
Hot tub lovin hot tub
Wish washy wahshy washy
Cmon baby
Show me where the hot tub love
Is all about
Joint Tina and Chriswasanon production.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
A bit with Richard Butler from April 6, 2006
Welcome backski to chriswasanon - fresh from frenzied posting over at Jack's shack. So Stevie babes aside from having one of his guitars up for sale on eBay has got a bit of geomancy going on. As is often the case with eBay here, today, gone tomorrow. Scrub that ooooh I found it. Off white Les Paul Gibson. Bookmark watch this item and do it often I suppose. Enough eBay. I saw this advert for Australian lager on Brit telly, you may've seen it. This geezer gets one of these feng shui consultants in and there follows a 15 second blur of stuff being put in and stuff being put out. Mirrors, chairs, large stones, interesting window frames. Until the customer's pad is completely empty. Empty save of 3 items:
A bog.
a fridge stuffed full of Amber nectar BEER cobber
and a telly tuned to a sports channel.
Interior design then. Well is it pronounced FUNG SHWAY or FENG SHOOEY and does our Steve, your Steve everybody's Steve have a relationship area set aside where 2 beings can harmonise and eat brown rice from four chopsticks within the sight of an Eastern waterfall? I do make this up as I go along you know and you CAN tell can't you? Without further worry of whether we need more sand or water or a way to unblock the natural dragon lines energy bottleneck on the meridian point of the astral doorstep...let us set forth. Richard Butler was in da house...and the following convo was extractified.
Tina here. Here's a little something from last week.
Wot, was you awaiting the hot tub bit instead? Oy, please don't make me...
3555 Chriswasanon says: Hold up a minute Tina. Hot tub?, ooh yes we want the hot tub. More salacious, vulgar and downright low, never mind the furniture department or psychopathic male heir obssessed Tudor kings. Ok. carri-on."
....Meanwhile, we join this discussion in progress as Steve brings up feng shui.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve: I’m a Virgo, you know. Supposedly, they’re tidy.
Richard: (laughing) Oh, you believe all that stuff, do you? You’ve been in L.A. too long, mate.
Steve: (L.A. accent, a la “The Dude” Lebowski) Hey, man…c’mon, man. (back to normal) But, the point is, I think there is some truth in it. The Chinese have been doing it for…God knows, two thousand years. That’s a long time. Henry the Eighth was only five hundred years ago. So, two thousand years ago and…
Richard: Two thousand years of feng shui. Where’s it gone, really? (laughs)
Steve: Actually, actually China are doing better than anywhere. They’re the ones holding the bleedin’ keys, mate. You wait and see. You wait and see, mate. It’s the feng shui. (Richard is belly-laughing) I’m getting on their side now. But it’s true. Before that, all it was, was like, paint this wall red, and this one gold and put a little fountain there and blahblahblah. Not a lot, you know, just little stuff. This bird from Hawaii came over and said, “This is what you need to do.” And it didn’t cost much to do it. And then, um, about three weeks later, I started doing this radio show. My health started getting better. Before that, I was just losing money, left and right. It was the weirdest thing…
Richard: And you got a little fountain.
Steve: I got a fountain, put it in the right place. When the bird walked in there, she said, “ the pool’s on the wrong side of the house.” I said, “well that ain’t gonna change.” But what you do is, is you put these mirrors up so your reflection of the mirrors make it look like the pool is over here. It’s all weird stuff.
Richard: Move your bedroom to the other end of the house.
Steve: No, the bedroom was fine, she said, “just don’t sleep in it.” (both laugh) So you don’t believe in anything like that? Any stuff like that?
Richard: I’m pretty skeptical about all that…
Steve: About anything that you don’t…you can’t see?
Richard: Pretty much, yeah. Yeah. I tend to be like that. My dad was like that, it’s sort of ground into me. He was like, this communist atheist sort of character.
Steve: Was he?
Richard: Yeah, yeah.
Steve: In, in Surrey.
Richard: Back in Surrey, yeah. (laughs)
Steve: Hmmm. Yeah but my, my parents were the same but I think, I don’t know. I’m always like, to search for something else. I’ll give everything a shot, anyway.
Richard: Are you religious?
Steve: No.
Richard: So you haven’t gone Buddhist along with the feng shui.
Steve: No, no. I don’t like Buddhists. I hate them. Horrible sods. (both laugh) No, actually, if there was any religion, I think I’d go with the ol’ Buddhism. At least they’re peaceful. You know, there’s no agenda there, like most other religions. It seems like that, anyway. You know. So you are an atheist communist?
Richard: (laughing) Atheist communist? No, no. Politically, I don’t know where the hell I am but I’m…yeah, I’m an atheist.
Steve: C of E? C of E.
Richard: No, atheist.
Steve: Church of England atheist. (sings) I’m Henry the Eighth I am. I was just talking about him the other day, Henry the Eighth. That whole thing, cos everyone was Catholic in England at the time, right? And because he wanted to get his end away with another bird, he changed the religion to C of E. Did you know that?
Richard: No, I didn’t.
Steve: Yeah, that’s how that all started. Very interesting.
Richard: He’s got a lot to answer for, really.
Steve: He was a swine.
A bog.
a fridge stuffed full of Amber nectar BEER cobber
and a telly tuned to a sports channel.
Interior design then. Well is it pronounced FUNG SHWAY or FENG SHOOEY and does our Steve, your Steve everybody's Steve have a relationship area set aside where 2 beings can harmonise and eat brown rice from four chopsticks within the sight of an Eastern waterfall? I do make this up as I go along you know and you CAN tell can't you? Without further worry of whether we need more sand or water or a way to unblock the natural dragon lines energy bottleneck on the meridian point of the astral doorstep...let us set forth. Richard Butler was in da house...and the following convo was extractified.
Tina here. Here's a little something from last week.
Wot, was you awaiting the hot tub bit instead? Oy, please don't make me...
3555 Chriswasanon says: Hold up a minute Tina. Hot tub?, ooh yes we want the hot tub. More salacious, vulgar and downright low, never mind the furniture department or psychopathic male heir obssessed Tudor kings. Ok. carri-on."
....Meanwhile, we join this discussion in progress as Steve brings up feng shui.
Tina IS at the controls.
Steve: I’m a Virgo, you know. Supposedly, they’re tidy.
Richard: (laughing) Oh, you believe all that stuff, do you? You’ve been in L.A. too long, mate.
Steve: (L.A. accent, a la “The Dude” Lebowski) Hey, man…c’mon, man. (back to normal) But, the point is, I think there is some truth in it. The Chinese have been doing it for…God knows, two thousand years. That’s a long time. Henry the Eighth was only five hundred years ago. So, two thousand years ago and…
Richard: Two thousand years of feng shui. Where’s it gone, really? (laughs)
Steve: Actually, actually China are doing better than anywhere. They’re the ones holding the bleedin’ keys, mate. You wait and see. You wait and see, mate. It’s the feng shui. (Richard is belly-laughing) I’m getting on their side now. But it’s true. Before that, all it was, was like, paint this wall red, and this one gold and put a little fountain there and blahblahblah. Not a lot, you know, just little stuff. This bird from Hawaii came over and said, “This is what you need to do.” And it didn’t cost much to do it. And then, um, about three weeks later, I started doing this radio show. My health started getting better. Before that, I was just losing money, left and right. It was the weirdest thing…
Richard: And you got a little fountain.
Steve: I got a fountain, put it in the right place. When the bird walked in there, she said, “ the pool’s on the wrong side of the house.” I said, “well that ain’t gonna change.” But what you do is, is you put these mirrors up so your reflection of the mirrors make it look like the pool is over here. It’s all weird stuff.
Richard: Move your bedroom to the other end of the house.
Steve: No, the bedroom was fine, she said, “just don’t sleep in it.” (both laugh) So you don’t believe in anything like that? Any stuff like that?
Richard: I’m pretty skeptical about all that…
Steve: About anything that you don’t…you can’t see?
Richard: Pretty much, yeah. Yeah. I tend to be like that. My dad was like that, it’s sort of ground into me. He was like, this communist atheist sort of character.
Steve: Was he?
Richard: Yeah, yeah.
Steve: In, in Surrey.
Richard: Back in Surrey, yeah. (laughs)
Steve: Hmmm. Yeah but my, my parents were the same but I think, I don’t know. I’m always like, to search for something else. I’ll give everything a shot, anyway.
Richard: Are you religious?
Steve: No.
Richard: So you haven’t gone Buddhist along with the feng shui.
Steve: No, no. I don’t like Buddhists. I hate them. Horrible sods. (both laugh) No, actually, if there was any religion, I think I’d go with the ol’ Buddhism. At least they’re peaceful. You know, there’s no agenda there, like most other religions. It seems like that, anyway. You know. So you are an atheist communist?
Richard: (laughing) Atheist communist? No, no. Politically, I don’t know where the hell I am but I’m…yeah, I’m an atheist.
Steve: C of E? C of E.
Richard: No, atheist.
Steve: Church of England atheist. (sings) I’m Henry the Eighth I am. I was just talking about him the other day, Henry the Eighth. That whole thing, cos everyone was Catholic in England at the time, right? And because he wanted to get his end away with another bird, he changed the religion to C of E. Did you know that?
Richard: No, I didn’t.
Steve: Yeah, that’s how that all started. Very interesting.
Richard: He’s got a lot to answer for, really.
Steve: He was a swine.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
A little Humpty Dumpty Ditty - April 7
Welcome back to Chriswasanon here and on this rather cloudy Sunday afternoon in bookland. I am since those LAWS bereft of a seedy boozer where free people may swear and smoke. We went to this child infested pub and ate crisps. RIP. The old fashioned pub. Hello shiny new twats who you never saw in pubs in the old days and didn't want to. What is happening to society etc...Enough of pro smoking.
Yesterday meself was having a right good fossick through the most wonderful of used bookstores over at Gatehouse of Fleet, up the top of ane converted mill. What striketh me 'bout this shop is proprietor. One of dying breed of old fashioned booksellers. Piles and piles of quality reasonably priced second-hand books, piles blocked the shelves where some of the books were laid in double rows. Annoying for the customer but what a joy to search through. All the stuff piled to knee height on the floor. Here's a cue....knees. Tina has a new slant on that old nursery rhyme classic for you, eggs over Steve Jones style, about his knee and and the beautiful game of football as Herr Humpitude Dumptitude may well have played it. Now without any more blathering blither - yes stop CwA - I hand you over to the TrAnScrIber!
Tina is at the controls:
Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox…yes… on Indie 1031. Just in case you forgot. Um, I feel very uncomfortable right now. My knee is killing me. I don’t think I’ve got any cartilage left in one of them. This really hurts. I’ve got to play football tonight, too. I don’t 'got to', I want to. I don’t know what to do. I hope I don’t need that microscopic surgery. Oh, it hurts. My back’s all…my back ribs feel like they’re bruised.
Mr. Shovel: Sounds like you’ve become a goalie.
Steve: You know what it is? It’s too much weight on the top, going on my legs. My legs are skinny and my top half is too heavy, like Humpty Dumpty. That’s what I’m like. Oh, it’s a drag. Got Frank Infante coming in later on. He was the guitar player from Blondie and that’ll be fun. He’s bringing his guitar. What else? Nothing.
Mr. Shovel: I see you have some good music lined up.
Steve: Yep, I’m glad it’s Friday. Don’t forget, tomorrow, twelve to two, “Best Of” the week. Best Of The Box from this week, which I would imagine will be, as it stands right now, I would say Andrew WK and Van Hunt were probably the best of the week so far. For me, anyway. (begins to strum guitar) But you never know what today might bring. Maybe Frankie’s horse will come in second, maybe first. So far it’s Van Hunt’s horse and Andrew WK have crossed the final furlough on the steeple chase of The Box. (continues to play guitar) Um, there’s got to be a song in there, Shovel. So knackered, I am so knackered. So happy it’s Friday.
Mr. Shovel: I’m guessing it’s about the weight on your cartilage.
Steve: No, I don’t think there is any cartilage in there. I think I’ve just worn it out. You know like, washers and shock absorbers when they get worn out? That’s what I think’s happened. I don’t know what you can do, other than uh, do that microscopic surgery or whatever they do. They clean it out or something. But it’s…I don’t know. Who knows. Maybe I just need to rest, not play for a few weeks. Maybe that’s the answer. Ohhh, there’s got to be a song in there somewhere, isn’t there, Mr. Shhhhhovelle Couture? Any ideas?
Mr. Shovel: Humpty Dumpty.
Steve: (sings)
Humpty Dumpty he can’t play football anymore
His back is weak and his knees are sore
Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall
And now he’s no use to anyone anymore
Poor old Humpty Dumpty what are we gonna do
Poor old Humpty Dumpty they’ll make some stew
Humpty Dumpty I want some Humpty Dumpty Stew
Humpty Dumpty you’ve got a big bumpty
on his you-know-who
Humpty Dumpty is he an egg?
Steve: (asks Mr. Shovel) Is he an egg, Humpty Dumpty?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
(Steve plays his harmonica)
Humpty Dumpty
how do you like him
Hard-boiled or poached
Sunny side up or over easy
Humpty over easy
Maybe scrambled
I like him hard hard-boiled
cos you won’t get foiled
When old Humpty
Humpty Dumpty’s got the hump
Humpty Dumpty he’s got the hump
I don’t know why
He’s got nothing to complain about
He just sits on a bleedin’ wall all day
He’s got egg on his face
Oh yes, I’ll have a dozen of them please
The ones without the pesticides and hormones
Yes, the organic ones
The chicken-fed ones yes yes
Humpty Dumpty took a dumpty in his humpty
He’s a silly sausage
People like a sausage lying next to him
with some bacon
and maybe
a fried slice…
Yesterday meself was having a right good fossick through the most wonderful of used bookstores over at Gatehouse of Fleet, up the top of ane converted mill. What striketh me 'bout this shop is proprietor. One of dying breed of old fashioned booksellers. Piles and piles of quality reasonably priced second-hand books, piles blocked the shelves where some of the books were laid in double rows. Annoying for the customer but what a joy to search through. All the stuff piled to knee height on the floor. Here's a cue....knees. Tina has a new slant on that old nursery rhyme classic for you, eggs over Steve Jones style, about his knee and and the beautiful game of football as Herr Humpitude Dumptitude may well have played it. Now without any more blathering blither - yes stop CwA - I hand you over to the TrAnScrIber!
Tina is at the controls:
Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox…yes… on Indie 1031. Just in case you forgot. Um, I feel very uncomfortable right now. My knee is killing me. I don’t think I’ve got any cartilage left in one of them. This really hurts. I’ve got to play football tonight, too. I don’t 'got to', I want to. I don’t know what to do. I hope I don’t need that microscopic surgery. Oh, it hurts. My back’s all…my back ribs feel like they’re bruised.
Mr. Shovel: Sounds like you’ve become a goalie.
Steve: You know what it is? It’s too much weight on the top, going on my legs. My legs are skinny and my top half is too heavy, like Humpty Dumpty. That’s what I’m like. Oh, it’s a drag. Got Frank Infante coming in later on. He was the guitar player from Blondie and that’ll be fun. He’s bringing his guitar. What else? Nothing.
Mr. Shovel: I see you have some good music lined up.
Steve: Yep, I’m glad it’s Friday. Don’t forget, tomorrow, twelve to two, “Best Of” the week. Best Of The Box from this week, which I would imagine will be, as it stands right now, I would say Andrew WK and Van Hunt were probably the best of the week so far. For me, anyway. (begins to strum guitar) But you never know what today might bring. Maybe Frankie’s horse will come in second, maybe first. So far it’s Van Hunt’s horse and Andrew WK have crossed the final furlough on the steeple chase of The Box. (continues to play guitar) Um, there’s got to be a song in there, Shovel. So knackered, I am so knackered. So happy it’s Friday.
Mr. Shovel: I’m guessing it’s about the weight on your cartilage.
Steve: No, I don’t think there is any cartilage in there. I think I’ve just worn it out. You know like, washers and shock absorbers when they get worn out? That’s what I think’s happened. I don’t know what you can do, other than uh, do that microscopic surgery or whatever they do. They clean it out or something. But it’s…I don’t know. Who knows. Maybe I just need to rest, not play for a few weeks. Maybe that’s the answer. Ohhh, there’s got to be a song in there somewhere, isn’t there, Mr. Shhhhhovelle Couture? Any ideas?
Mr. Shovel: Humpty Dumpty.
Steve: (sings)
Humpty Dumpty he can’t play football anymore
His back is weak and his knees are sore
Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall
And now he’s no use to anyone anymore
Poor old Humpty Dumpty what are we gonna do
Poor old Humpty Dumpty they’ll make some stew
Humpty Dumpty I want some Humpty Dumpty Stew
Humpty Dumpty you’ve got a big bumpty
on his you-know-who
Humpty Dumpty is he an egg?
Steve: (asks Mr. Shovel) Is he an egg, Humpty Dumpty?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
(Steve plays his harmonica)
Humpty Dumpty
how do you like him
Hard-boiled or poached
Sunny side up or over easy
Humpty over easy
Maybe scrambled
I like him hard hard-boiled
cos you won’t get foiled
When old Humpty
Humpty Dumpty’s got the hump
Humpty Dumpty he’s got the hump
I don’t know why
He’s got nothing to complain about
He just sits on a bleedin’ wall all day
He’s got egg on his face
Oh yes, I’ll have a dozen of them please
The ones without the pesticides and hormones
Yes, the organic ones
The chicken-fed ones yes yes
Humpty Dumpty took a dumpty in his humpty
He’s a silly sausage
People like a sausage lying next to him
with some bacon
and maybe
a fried slice…
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