For those of you too lazy to watch even 30 seconds of a YouTube video because you’re doing something really important like drinking a chai latte, the lyrics go like this:

I love pop music, this is how we do it
It’s politics you can romance to
I love pop music, sprinkle sugar through it,
Philosophy that you can dance to

Inane, yes, but pretty typical for Ben Lee as anyone who caught his disease would know (not herpes, the song).

No, what sends this song into new unseen realms of awfulness are the spoken word verses:

The price of oil is at an all time high and rising,
Global warming threatens life as we know it on this planet,
And leaders have not committed to a plan of action on renewable energy,
The food crisis is currently affecting a hundred million people world wide.

No, really. Go and watch it. Instead of bringing public attention to these issues (global warming? what’s that?), as well as high-lighting the power of music to achieve things, he’s instead ended up making a mockery of these issues, pop music in general, and himself.

Something I’ve always noticed about Ben Lee is his videos always feature good looking young people who fete him like a god, presumably because no one likes him in real life. This video is no exception. What is the exception are the mindless call-and-response background lyrics. Pay attention to the words in brackets in the next verse:

There are over 6 billion people on this planet and not enough fresh drinking water (we’re in trouble),
Religious intolerance creating geopolitical instability (shine a light),
Politicians battling each other like professional wrestlers (ooh),
Further division is not the answer, division is not the answer

We’re in trouble? Shine a light?

A brief search reveals the album on which this song appears, The Rebirth of Venus, has been panned mercilessly worldwide with a slew of one-star reviews, from Uncut  to Slant magazines. And not just because it contains another song called I’m a Woman, Too.

GrodsReaders, what’s your favourite political song? My vote goes to This World Over by XTC. What’s yours?

I love you, internet.

Who is who?

“I believe I am alive today because God saved me for this – to make people happy. I have a message to give, the same as Michael,” he said yesterday.

Yeah, um. Okay.

Ladies and gentlemen, Da Funk by Daft Punk.

It’s Friday, GrodsFriends. Embrace apathy. Down schooners. Get pissed, destroy. Remember, contra Steve Fielding – alcohol IS a solution.

The rest will wait until Monday, and by then it might not seem that important. Time to clear your minds and diaries of everything except R-O-C-K, mofos.

To kick off this new series, Pack Yr Suitcases by Custard. One of the greatest bands to have ever walked the face of the planet.

Lennie pictured after winning Canadian National Lottery

The depressoleftosphere includes, at last count, Toaf, Tobias and myself. (GrodsCorp’s own Bron has told me she can’t afford it, which is even more depressing when you think about it). Representing the radical centre will be Mr. Andrew Bartlett.

I’ll be going to the Bowral show, which is in a vineyard. Unconfirmed speculation suggests that Toaf and I may well convene over a chardonnay at some point to compare notes and Al Gore tattoos.

Three questions:

1. Anyone else going?
2. Anyone planning to post reviews and pix?
3. What is it with teh left and maudlin, Canadian, septuagenarian, zen-Buddhist singer-songwriters?

If you are planning to attend this event, please note: do not, under any circumstances, carry this image in the back of your mind while Mr Braithwaite is on stage:

Enjoy the show.

Thanks a fucken million, Spykey.

Anyway, after eating some food from the market we went for a walk to kill the hour before Dan took to the stage. We ended up at an inner city bar and ordered a couple of drinks. On the stage at this bar was a gaggle of awkward and nerdlingerly social outcasts getting ready to play a gig. They were doing a soundcheck and Spykey and I couldn’t believe our ears.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Julian Williams via my iPhone sound recording application.

Download audio file (Julian Williams.mp3)

I shit you not, this went on for the whole time we were there and it was extremely difficult not to break out giggling and point rudely. They took themselves so seriously. The best part was that as we left they were getting ready to collect a door charge. Brazen!

So I simply had find out more about this troupe of freaks.

Hello, My name is Julian Williams and I’ve been doing my thing in music and experimental theatre in Melbourne for years now, how they go so fast.

[...]

…there are conventional instruments like guitars, organs, and wind instruments. There are also sampled everyday sounds from around the house, generally slowed down or speeded up, and then harmonies galore. It reflects my taste in music from the Beach Boys to Pauline Oliveros, although the music I listen to is all over the shop, so it’s hard to make comparisons. The byways of this musical world are as varied as a china polluted stream.

[...]

Lyrically, I’m writing about my usual interests: spirituality, meditation, understanding humans role in the universe, various rites and ceremonies of tribes in Africa, South America and Asia. Yep, I love the arcane and esoteric landscape my fellow beings. The process of writing lyrics is weird. It’s like I’m the antenna catching vibrations, or like a radio picking up frequencies in the air. Even I don’t know what they mean most of the time. I like to give each listener the opportunity to make their own meaning. I don’t consider myself the author of the work, just the facilitator. My feelings about the album are no different to those reading this. The power of mystery is a great thing to be enjoyed by husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, mums and dads, and every being with ears.

I don’t consider myself the author of this warning never to subject yourself to a “concert” by Julian Williams, just the facilitator.

Is Jeremy’s Gmail status a hit or a miss?

David Stratton: I liked it. It tells the inside story accurately and with minimum of Costello’s smirk. Could have used more car chases, but that’s a minor quibble. 4 stars.

Malcy: There isn’t enough about me. 1 star.

What does everyone else think about it?

“And Rudd has systematically alienated those on the cultural Left who dreamed that, through him, they might prosecute their war on the values of ordinary Australians. “

Oh! Silly me! That’s what this whole thing is about. Leftist child pornographers (is there any other kind?) forcing their depravity on decent Australians! How long have we been prosecuting this war on the good and decent people of Australia who never dreamed that beneath the clothes of a young girl there might be a body? What hath Bill Henson wrought? And to think I get laughed at for wearing camouflage casually and carrying a rocket launcher.

Fear not imaginary-values-from-a-time-in-the-distant-past-that-may-have-not-actually-existed, we’ll destroy you yet. At least we would had a Leftist band by the name of Blind Faith not gotten there first.

The chorus went a little something like this:

So tell me
Why should I let you go
Give me twenty good reasons
I need to know

Twenty. Presumably this means if the ex only managed to come up with 19 bulletproof reasons for hating this fellow’s guts, he’d politely decline her request to be free of him and continue stalking her.

Sounds perfectly reasonable to me. Surely anyone who’d write a song about not being able to accept that a relationship is over is bound to be a top bloke and a good catch. Hell, the missus just probably never truly appreciated how much he adored her and how lucky she was — the ungrateful, aloof cow!

But then, today, I googled the lyrics of the chorus and discovered the song was by the hilariously named Thirsty Merc:

Suddenly I understood that one good reason was all the justification she’d ever need:

Rai, my dear, you have a moustache that looks as though you’ve dropped your dessert spoon at the Coogee Bay Hotel and thought: “You know what? To hell with it. I’m just going to eat this complimentary gelato with my face.”

As such, I find the very thought of touching you repugnant and would sooner engage in sexual congress with a frightened echidna than spend another minute in your company.

Now please, get out of my hydrangeas. And take that fucking guitar with you.

John Lennon

John is the most “way out” of the group both in his approach to life and his sense of humor, but behind the facade of the off-the-cuff repartee and sayings there is a keen business brain.

[...]

John dislikes traditional jazz and thick heads, likes steak, chips, jelly, curries, painting, modern jazz, suede and leather clothing.

George Harrison

George is a kindly, quiet and considerate character. He loves his work because it gives him the opportunity of being creative.

He likes small blondes, driving, sleeping, eggs and chips. His musical tastes run to Segovia and Chet Atkins recording, Eartha Kitt and Alfred Hitchcock thriller films. He hates having his hair cut.

Paul McCartney

Paul McCartney is the brainy Beatle.

[...]

Paul is busy and uncomplicated. He loves life and live audiences. He likes all kinds of well-performed music except trad jazz; he likes Kraft cheese slices, girls with long hair and the ability to express themselves, Sophia Loren and Natalie Wood films, Little Richard and Dinah Washington records. Paul’s pet hate is the daily chore of shaving.

Ringo Starr

Ringo Starr is the latest and smallest of The Beatles.

[...]

The “Ringo” nickname stems from his love of the heavy, ornate rings with which he bedecks his busy fingers. There seems to be no rhyme or reason for the fingers or the hands on which the rings are worn. Friends swear Ringo just digs his hands into a bag of rings and leaves on those that stick to his fingers.

He once explained his rings were too heavy for one hand so he changed them around to save himself walking with one shoulder lower than the other.

This just about typifies the dead-pan comedian in Ringo Starr, with his bizarre sense of fun which contrasts oddly with his basic quietness quietness. Ringo likes steak with chips, Ray Charles, fast cars, svelte suits and his girls dressed neatly. He hates travelling in the morning and Chinese food.

That’s right: Paul was the only band member who didn’t like chips.

Earlier this year, soft drink manufacturer Dr Pepper offered to send a free can of the beverage to “everyone in America” (excluding ex-[Guns N Roses] members Slash and Buckethead) if [new album] Chinese Democracy were to arrive anytime during the 2008 calendar year.

Unfortunate reality:

More than a decade after its conception, Guns N Roses’s Chinese Democracy will finally see the light of day before year’s end.

The set will be available from Sunday November 23.

Corporation quietly shitting its pants:

A Dr Pepper spokesperson was not immediately available for comment.

Epic FAIL.

…on August 15th, I received notice from Amazon Web Services (the platform that hosts Muxtape’s servers and files) that they had received a complaint from the RIAA. Per Amazon’s terms, I had one business day to remove an incredibly long list of songs or face having my servers shut down and data deleted. This came as a big surprise to me, as I’d been thinking that I hadn’t heard from the RIAA in a long time because I had an understanding with the labels. I had a panicked exchange of emails with Amazon, trying to explain that I was in the middle of a licensing deal, that I suspected it was a clerical error, and that I was doing everything I could to get someone to vouch for me on a summer Friday afternoon. My one business day extended over the weekend, and on Monday when I wasn’t able to produce the documentation Amazon wanted (or even get someone from the RIAA on the phone), the servers were shut down and I was locked out of the account. I moved the domain name to a new server with a short message and the very real expectation that I could get it sorted out. I still thought it was all just a big mistake. I was wrong.

Over the next week I learned a little more, mainly that the RIAA moves quite autonomously from their label parents and that the understanding I had with them didn’t necessarily carry over. I also learned that none of the labels were especially interested in helping me out, and from their perspective it had no bearing on the negotiations. I disagreed. The deals were still weeks or months away (an eternity on the internet) meaning that at best, Muxtape was going to be down until the end of year. There was also still the matter of how to pay for it; getting investment is hard enough in this volatile space even with a wildly successful and growing web site, it became an entirely different proposition with no web site at all.

Screw you, RIAA. What am I going to listen to while I work at my computer now?

* Computers, the English language, and the decay of society
* Music piracy and iPods through customs
* Greeks and anal sex
* Funniest things on the intertubes (read: A Western Heart)

** Because the dilithium crystals and the flux capacitor are broken, use only the “Play in popup” link or the “Download” link. **

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UPDATE (25/7): I have added late-entry Muxtapes by Kate and Toaf, appended notes to Bron’s, and linked to Jeremy’s notes at his blog.

Bron from GrodsCorp
bron.muxtape.com
* Fats Waller –- Ain’t Misbehavin’ (I love jazz. I love piano music. I love piano based jazz. And I love Fats Waller, he’s the absolute best.)
* Roberta Flack –- The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (Her voice. Very ethereal and angelic. Good music to bonk to.)
* Gladys Knight & The Pips –- If I Were Your Woman (One of Motown’s best, with one of their better offerings. Still think the name “The Pips” was a big mistake though.)
* Pixies –- Hey (Whores in my bed. What else to add?)
* Pinky Beecroft & The White Russians –- Fabulous Driving (Pinky’s first band (and still his band) after the untimely demise of Machine Gun Fellatio. This song is great, starts off slow and gradually increases into a mesh of screeching guitars and kooky lyrics.)
* Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young –- Wooden Ships (My heroes. Bloody peacenik, long haired hippies.)
* NoFX –- Franco UnAmerican (SoCal punk pop. But love the lyrics. Released before Dubya’s second Presidential win. Leftard punks.)
* Etta James -– A Sunday Kind of Love (I love Sundays. Friday and Saturday nights are better, but don’t tell Etta that. One of soul music’s finest.)
* Robert Johnson –- Ramblin’ On My Mind (One of the finest and original bluesmen. That’s all I can say about this one.)
* Beastie Boys –- 3 The Hard Way (Just to mix it up a little, I threw this one in. Always fun to rap along to. Not as good as “Stutter Rap” though, as John Surname will tell you.)
* Foo Fighters –- Enough Space (Ever wondered what Edvard Munch’s painting “The Scream” might sound like? Dave Grohl gives a good impression.)
* Cab Calloway — St James Infirmary (many jazz artists have covered this tune — Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Stan Kenton etc — as have many rock and pop artists. I have many versions of this song, so I just picked one at random and Cab Calloway came up trumps. I just love it. Do I have to explain why? No. Good.)

Cosmicjester from Tha Bastard Son
cosmicjester.muxtape.com
Cosmicjester sez: “i know, i know, not enough hannah montanna”

EC from Easily Confused
easilyconfused.muxtape.com
EC’s notes on her Muxtape can be found here.

The Editor from GrodsCorp
grodscorp.muxtape.com
The Editor sez: “For the love of God, this was hard. I think I overthunk it, but here are the tunes.
* Pearl Jam — Last Exit (I’ve got a Pearl Jam problem so selecting one Pearl Jam song for my Muxtape was always going to be a problem. So I selected two. ‘Last Exit’ is one of my favourite PJ tunes and it’s a rockin’ opening track that builds mysteriously and leaves you begging for more.)
* David McCormack & The Polaroids — Inner West (I’ve also got a David McCormack problem but selecting one DMac song for my Muxtape was easy. ‘Inner West’ is pure awesome, and I used to live in Sydney’s inner west. So there.)
* Brad — Lift (A great song by a great band. This one reminds me of when I first moved to Sydney.)
* Foo Fighters — My Hero (Picking a Foo Fighters song was tough so I just went with the track that sorta defines a good period of time I spent in London.)
* Primus — Tommy The Cat (I love Primus’ frenetic, bass-driven, angular music, along with Les Claypool’s twisted lyrics. It was a real toss up between ‘Tommy The Cat’ and ‘John The Fisherman’ but I went with ‘Tommy’ because it’s such a unique track. I always wanted to play bass like Les when I grew up.)
* LCD Soundsystem — Losing My Edge (The lyrics in this tune are awesome and the music drives and lifts. Reminds me of my time in London.)
* The Chemical Brothers — Music: Response (The best track off the best Chemical Brothers album. I never get tired of listening to the album from start to finish.)
* Custard — Pack Yr Suitcases (I’ve also got a bad Custard problem. Custard are my boyz and I felt bad having to choose just one song. ‘Pack Yr Suitcases’ defines Custard: it’s catchy and interesting musically, and makes very little sense lyrically. Simply irresistible.)
* Soundgarden — Somewhere (Teh Soundgarden are teh awesome and I crashed my car the morning after seeing them at Festival Hall in Brisbane in 1996. This track is neck-and-neck with ‘Outshined’ in the “best song from Badmotorfinger” race.)
* Nine Inch Nails — We’re In This Together (It took some time but I narrowed NIN down to two tracks. ‘Wretched (Version)’ wouldn’t upload — damn you, Muxtape — so ‘We’re In This Together’ was it.)
* Pearl Jam — Breath (I simply love this Pearl Jam tune. When Eddie sings in the bridge, “If I knew where it was/ I would take you there/ there’s much more than this,” I get a bit funny.)
* The Beatles — A Day In The Life (Awesome song and awesome-er closing song. Always starts arguments over whether John or Paul’s bit is better. It’s Paul’s bit, just in case you were wondering.)

Goobermetrics (occasionally) from GrodsCorp
goobermetrics.muxtape.com
Goober sez: “Goobermetrics’ muxtape — 12 tracks that certainly aren’t my favourite songs ever but represent a good cross section of what I listen to. Alphabetically ordered for enhanced OCD awesomeness.
* Adam Franklin — Ramonesland (A slice of lo-fi awesomeness from the man behind Swervedriver (who are decidedly un-lo-fi), and a timely reminder to always choose Ramonesland over Leonard Cohen land.)
* Atlas — Battles (This sounds like Voltron giving a reach around to Optimus Prime inside the Tardis. Nuff said.)
* Beastie Boys — The New Style (A great cut from when they weren’t P.C. douche-bags making tedious albums like ‘To The 5 Boroughs’.)
* Billy Idol — Eyes Without A Face (I fucking love Billy Idol … and not even in an ironic way. Irony is for dickheads in fluro t-shirts that say “Relax” on them. This is vital Idol, “reading murder books and trying to stay hip”.)
* David Bowie — Candidate / Sweet Thing / Candidate [reprise] (Anyone that has endured car rides with me knows my love for David Bowie – “if you don’t like it get your own fucking car!” is my response to most complaints. This 8:35 minute odyssey gives a nice glimpse at his range and penchant for the theatrical.)
* Dead Prez — Hip Hop (I’m always up for running them crackers out of city hall, so this song gets my nod. Turn this one up, crackers.)
* Helmet — Turned Out (Thinking mans metal. This dude must be 70 years old and is still out there playing in shitty venues and having beers with the fans after shows. If remembers who ‘Downtown July Brown’ is I will buy them a beer — or an Appletini in John Surname’s case.)
* Lou Reed — Ecstasy (I saw Lou Reed play in New York in what was the most hilariously tedious fucking gig I have ever been to. Lou informs us at the start that we are in for a treat, that he will play only b-sides and other obscure songs. I know most of the Lou Reed / Velvets catalogue and I knew a grand total of two songs from the two hour show. Regardless, he is still amazing even if he is a cranky old bastard. ‘Ecstasy’ is a relatively recent gem — and one of the two songs I knew.)
* Saul Williams — Black Stacey (A lot of my friends say I’m too black, which is surprising in many respects, but ultimately true.)
* Soundgarden — Outshined (I discovered Soundgarden when a mate asked for this CD for his birthday eons ago – “it’s the one with the squashed tiger on the front”. Indeed it was. Chris Cornell can wail, and this is a standout track from the breakout “squashed tiger” album.)
* Spoon — The Fitted Shirt (An ode/lament to the fitted shirt – Spoon are going bring it back via any means necessary.)
* Sublime — April 29, 1992 [Miami] (”April 26, 1992. There was a riot on streets tell me where we you? You were sitting home watching your TV, while I was participating in some anarchy.” Actually I was 13, living in the Melbourne burbs, but I was there in spirit. I had maths homework to finish, OK?!?!)

The Happy Revolutionary from The Partisan
happyrev.muxtape.com

Jeremy Sear from An Onymous Lefty
alefty.muxtape.com
Jeremy’s notes on his Muxtape can be found here.

John Surname from GrodsCorp and Random Brainwave
Has no intertubes access so he sent me his playlist instead:
* Ween — Exactly Where I’m At
* Godley & Creme — Random Brainwave
* XTC — No Language In Our Lungs
* The Divine Comedy — Through A Long And Sleepless Night
* Sparks — Likeable
* GG06 — Hooligan Crane
* Gentle Giant — Knots
* Captain Beefheart — Big Eyed Beans From Venus
* West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band — Truck Stop
* Influence — Dream Woman.
* 10cc — Feel The Benefit
* Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention — Muffin Man

Kate from Veggie Friendly
kapo.muxtape.com
* Pulp — Common People (Reminds me of when I could go out and dance all night)
* PJ Harvey — Big Exit (I just like that PJ can be tough and still sound beautiful)
* Breeders — Saints (Also reminds me of Uni, and makes me want to be on summer holidays)
* Bluetones — Bluetonic (This was given to me on a mix-tape and instantly stuck in my head.)
* St Thomas — A Long, Long Time (Because I am a sucker for melodic, catchy guitar pop with a Scandinavian bent.)
* Sufjan Stephens — Chicago (Because I am a sucker for melodic, orchestral pop that romanticises the Midwest.)
* Flaming Lips — Do You Realize? (I still think of J, the playing this on the guitar… and also reading it at our wedding.)
* Zero 7 — Warm Sound (this song makes me nostalgic for when I used to listen to music on record players because there were no ipods — or mix tapes)
* Nina Simone — See-line Woman (I love Nina Simone and I like to think it might have inspired son 10.)
* Lhorca — Indigo Blues (the double bass hooks me every time. This used to go on all my mix tapes.)
* Brazzaville — Foreign Disaster Days (Something I randomly stumbled on in my ipod about three weeks ago and keep coming back to.)
* Belle & Sebastian — The State I’m In (The line ‘And so I gave myself to God, there was a pregnant pause before he said OK’ is my all-time favourite lyric.)

Keri from This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours
kej.muxtape.com
Keri’s notes on her Muxtape can be found here.

Magic Bellybutton from Magic Bellybutton
magicbellybutton.muxtape.com
Magic Bellybutton’s notes on her Muxtape can be found here.

Samuel Gordon-Stewart from Samuel’s Blog
Had trouble with the Muxtape website and couldn’t upload his songs so here’s his playlist:
* Jo Stafford — A You’re Adorable
* Paul Kelly — Sydney from a 747
* Propellerheads — History Repeating
* The Seekers — The Carnival Is Over
* Beccy Cole — Poster Girl
* David Bowie — Starman
* Carly Simon — You’re So Vain
* Mark Knopfler — Going Home
* Soul Asylum — Stand Up and Be Strong
* Robert Palmer — Simply Irresistible
* Joe Cocker — Unchain My Heart
* Flanagan & Allen — Run Rabbit Run

Spock, a regular GrodsReader
spocks.muxtape.com
Spock sez: “I wanted to pick songs that weren’t necessarily my favourite, but gave a good indication of my music tastes. So it’s pretty diverse.
* Butterfly Boucher — I Can’t Make Me (Why she never had huge commercial success, I will never ever know….)
* Islands — Rough Gem (Quirky indie pop, just one of the most fun bits of music I have heard in a long time. Only recently dethroned as my most played song on iTunes.)
* U2 — Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses (The band that first got me into music. This is a perfect example of what they can do at their best. Just really gets under your skin.)
* Imogen Heap — Closing In (Electro at its best. Creates a image with sound better then any real instruments ever could.)
* Electric President — Insomnia (Just wow. His voice isn’t for everyone, but musicly it’s genius.)
* Ryan Adams — Sylvia Plath (B-E-A-utiful)
* Lupe Fiasco — Little Weapon (Ft. Bishop G & Nikki Jean) (Patrick Stump, vocalist from Fall Out Boy produced this. Fantastic hip-hop about violet culture.)
* Hellogoodbye — Here (In Your Arms) (Pop genus.)
* Paramore — That’s What You Get (I don’t know why, but I’ve listened to this song a lot. I just really love it.)
* Jimmy Eat World — If You Don’t, Don’t (Best song from the best emo band)
* Fairyfloss — But The Boy Knew Nothing (I’ll be honest, this is just shameless self promotion. My own band, you’ll have to pass judgement on it. I’m a little biased because I gave birth to it.)
* The Beatles — You Never Give Me Your Money (The Beatles? Definitely hot!)”

Toaf from Tofu Notes
Is in Nairobi and has even worse internet access than Bigpond customers so here’s his playlist.
* Tim Rogers — Faith (from You Am I’s ‘Dress me slowly’ bonus disc, an awesome song about straightening yourself out after meeting an individual you can put your faith in.)
* Weddings Parties Anything — Rosy And Grey (a bewdiful cover of a song by Canadian band, ‘Lowest of the low’. A good mate of mine pulled together a band, the Cheeky Beers, and they played it at our wedding. The missus loves the oral sex references they drop in.)
* Beth Orton — Stolen Car (just cos I like it.)
* Gotan Project — Paris, Texas (my favourite Gotan track, a real cruisy one, impresses dinner guests.)
* The Fauves — Dirt-Bike Option (a ripper of a b-side about dirt-bikes and messiah complexes. I fucken love the Fauves.)
* Billy Bragg — Waiting For The Great Leap Forwards (maybe even his recent live versions which throw in a mention of Bush and co. Legendary. Could have chosen a dozen by Braggy.)
* Ben Harper — Excuse Me Mister (another political one, since I’m a lefty and all that.)
* TISM — I Might Be A Cunt But I’m Not A Fucking Cunt (cos it’s so true and it mentions James Hird.)
* Alistair Hulett — The Internationale’ in Gaelic (another lefty one.)
* You Am I — Purple Sneakers (again, could have picked a dozen. This one never gets old and reminds me of my rocken days in the 90s.)
* Pollyanna — Keep Me Guessing (ditto).
* Shihad — Wait And See (more rock for the masses. I really rate Shihad, especially live. Hope I get to see them again one day.)

So just a reminder that you should use this weekend to finalise your Muxtape playlist, upload the songs to the website, and email your URL to grodscorp [at] grods [dot] com by Monday. (Wednesday at the absolute latest since Spock’s got an extension.) Feel free to include a few lines of explanation to go with your Muxtape and be sure to give me your blog’s URL for linky purposes.

Happy muxing!

Just kidding. It’s the GrodsCorp Muxtape Challenge!!1!

What’s a Muxtape? It’s an online version of the cassette mix tapes that we all used to make in the 80s and 90s and share around with our friends. Remember how you used to spend ages agonising over song choice, sequence and duration restrictions, and then spend even longer fiddling with a dual deck cassette player’s pause and record buttons? Well Muxtape is much easier to use — you just upload 12 mp3 songs that are smaller than 24MB each and organise them into your desired sequence. Simple.

So the GrodsCorp Muxtape Challenge is to create a mix tape that best showcases you and your musical tastes. Either dip into your old favourites, upload new stuff that you’re into, or mix it up a bit. Just make sure the finished product represents you. Then email the URL of your Muxtape to grodscorp [at] grods [dot] com by next Monday (21 July) so I can reveal all GrodsReaders’ Muxtapes in the one post.

Garn then. Have at it.

It’s unlikely a mournful sombre mood could prevail through a funeral rendition of Ding Dong the Witch is Dead. But this was a last musical message played at a final farewell in South Australia and it is part of an increasing trend away from hymns towards popular, rock and novelty songs, a leading funeral provider says.

Other funeral ceremonies have been accompanied by the blaring rock tones of Another One Bites The Dust, Stairway to Heaven or even Highway to Hell.

Personally, I think I’d go for American Pie. It’s so long that it would drag the whole thing out painfully; it harks back to my mispent youth of country pubs and cover bands; and the lyrics would leave everyone scratching their heads about why the hell I chose it. All of these things would make me happy in the afterlife (if I actually believed in such a thing).

What would Grods-plodders go for?

I think it’s bullshit, I think it’s record companies crying poor and I don’t agree with it… you don’t make money from the record, the record companies make the money from the record. If they can’t make money these days because they haven’t come onside with the way the world is going, it’s their own problem.

Pwned.

And here’s “artist” and “musician” Anthony Callea’s manager throwing his support behind the campaign to stop something that will never, ever have any impact on Callea’s sale(s).

This video is a unique view on the changing nature of our industry. It’s tremendous to see artists given the opportunity to provide a balanced first hand account of the music business as they see it.

* Sin tax
* Whingeing musicians
* Chair sniffing
* Wilson Tuckey vs. Bill Heffernan in the GrodsThink naked cagefight

** Because of the pernicious lack of Brendan Nelson bashing in this episode use only the “Play in popup” link or the “Download” link. **

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Poll closes COB Wednesday.

UPDATE (4.45pm): Bron has pointed out in comments that she’d like to vote ‘hot’ and ‘not’ based on old stuff/new stuff thinking. I’ve added this option to the poll for others who are facing the same conundrum.

“I like all kinds of music (except) rap or hip-hop,” Nelson says. “I’ve been working through Rolling Stones covers, Pink Floyd, I’m a Slim Dusty tragic … At the moment I’m learning (Bon Jovi’s) It’s My Life.”

So over to you, GrodsReaders. When Nelson has finished learning the shitty chords to shitty Bon Jovi’s shitty It’s My Life what should he learn next?

I’ve taken to singing to my 12-week-old son this past month, and it’s led to a realisation all adults have sooner or later: the youth of today have musical taste up their arse.

Here are the last three songs I sang him:

1. Beyond the sea by Bobby Darin

Reaction: Apathy

2. Good day sunshine by The Beatles

Reaction: Indifference

3. I’ve been thinking about you by London Beat

Reaction: LOST HIS FUCKING MIND

Shi-pow-pow.

NEVER EVER LAND is a utopian dreamland: a one day live show and party from tomorrow that features magical music from a seemingly faraway place, conveniently packaged and delivered to you at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl to kick start the summer.

Accompanying the seminal daft robots is a line up that has been hand picked from around the world including:
* The Presets
* SebastiAn and Kavinsky
* Muscles
* The Bang Gang Deejays

And check out the Daft Punk pyramid-of-death.

Interested? Email me at grodscorp (at) grods (dot) com.

Help us! Suggestions in comments.

Ms Hanson yesterday launched her theme song with … Callaghan on the Gold Coast. Entitled Australian Way of Life, Ms Hanson joined guitar-playing Mr Callaghan as the crowd clapped. “For our freedom, for the future of our children, for this nation . . . the Australian way of life,” the duo sang.

Bonza. Later, Pauline cheerily endorsed immigration minister Kevin Andrews’ recent diatribe about Sudanese refugees. She went on to demand testing of immigrants for AIDS, HIV, TB and any other unhealthy acronyms. Oh, and lepers too. “There is a case of leprosy which has been recorded in South Australia”, she added.

Apart from the singing and gee-tar playing, boyfriend Chris Callaghan (shown here wearing black hat at oblique angle to obscure eyes) was noticeably silent. His musical credentials are indeed impressive, in stark contrast to Pauline’s record as a legislator:

Support act for Gloria Loring (Liz from Days of our Lives) in the mid 80’s.
Selected as Australian representative at the Bourail Festival in New Caledonia. Wrote and recorded “The Curse of the Rivers” for NSW phosphorous campaign.

Chris is seven years younger than Pauline, 52, proving that James Blundell doesn’t hold a monopoly on C&W cradle-snatching. But Chris isn’t just after Pauline’s electoral funding; his love is true. He’s even dedicated a song to her, a three-chord strum called “How Proud Are We?” (MP3 via news.com, three-minutes-of-your-life-gone warning). Admittedly, it was originally intended for Keiran Perkins, whom I hope received Chris’ admiration for different reasons.

So do the right thing, GrodsReaders: join me in boycotting AMP until the ad is withdrawn.

So how do the global warming big-wigs intend to raise even more awareness?

By holding a concert, of course. Not just one either, but a whole bunch. Ten in fact, which is two more than G8 and nine more than the Random Brainwave benefit concerts which raised $20 and a parrot.

Now, I’m a little skeptical about the benefits of a concert. Let me tell you why:

1. Carbon emissions. Concerts are notoriously bad for the environment. Mega-concerts are even worse. The Wembley concert is predicted to pump 3000 tonnes of carbon emissions into the air. That is just silly. Instead, why don’t they just build carbon pumping factories, which are far more efficient. Best of all, they save us from having to hear Bloc Party. Where the fuck is their “K” anyway?
2. Do-gooder musicians. I wasn’t interested even slightly in the G8 concerts. “Raising awareness”? Who are they kidding? It’s just an excuse for a bunch of musicians to get together, headline concerts that will be seen by billions of people the world over, and reap the benefits they receive from all the media exposure.
3. Private jets. All these musicians will be taking private jets. A little hypocritical, dontcha think? But it would be silly to let them to fly with the rabble.
4. Shoddy aims. What exactly do these concerts hope to achieve? We already know global warming is happening. There is a small smattering of small-minded critics, but I doubt Madonna is going to sway them (without showing them her breasts anyway). Again, it seems to be an excuse for musicians to raise their profile by making it look like they “care”. Aww, how sweet.
5. Coldplay. Enough said.

Their heart is in the right place, but so what? There are a million better ways to spend the money that these concerts are going to cost, and without the creation of ridiculous amounts of carbon emissions. Taping Andrew Bolt’s mouth shut, for instance. His mouth is one major contributor of carbon emissions in Australia.

But first, how Pearl Jam’s fans have changed. Waiting out the front of Rod Laver Arena for Billybob to arrive J, The and I crowd spotted. We saw business suits, couples with young kids, teenage girls who looked like they’d come to see Nelly Furtado, young adults in the young twenties whose folks had tagged along, and only a couple of grubby yoof dressed in the grunge costume. In fact, looking around the crowd after the support act we noted that there was an overwhelming amount of pastel colour — like an Industrie clothing store showroom — and an almost complete lack of black. Back in the ’90s, we reflected, you’d get beaten up for showing up to a Pearl Jam concert in anything but a pair of ripped jeans, black t-shirt and flannel over-shirt.

However, forgetting the crowd’s fashion choices it was, without a shadow of a doubt, easily the best concert of the six I’ve seen. Last time around in 2003 the band were touring an ordinary album, Eddie Vedder was drunk, forgetful and sloppy, and the band seemed to be lacking spark and killing time until retirement. On Tuesday they were invigorated, musically tight, and a true rock and roll spectacle. Eddie was at the peak of his singing form, Mike McCready let rip with some truly outstanding four minute guitar solos (including Even Flow’s solo from behind his head), Jeff Ament was bouncing across the stage like a teenager, and the band effortlessly punched out the kind of energy and anger that was reminiscent of their early years.

And just take a look at this setlist:

Go, Last Exit, Brain Of J., World Wide Suicide, Given To Fly, Severed Hand, Low Light, Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town, Gone, Do The Evolution, Even Flow, Lukin, Not For You/(Modern Girl), Life Wasted, Better Man, Glorified G, Porch

Encore 1: Thumbing My Way, Last Kiss, Crazy Mary, Alive
Encore 2: Big Wave, Blood, Leash, Baba O’Riley, Indifference

Anybody who follows Pearl Jam setlists and knows a thing or two about their catalogue will nod appreciatively at the first few songs. The boys normally kick off their shows with a quiet tune (eg. Release, Elderly Woman) before launching into a rocker, but they launched this show with the blistering first track from Vs., the blistering first track from Vitalogy, and the blistering first track from Yield. Had they said “goodnight” and walked from the stage right there I would’ve gone home a happy man, still tingling from the opening trio. But they forged onwards into the single from their latest, self-titled, album before playing the only disappointment of the night: Given To Fly. That tune is serviceable on the record but has never really worked for me live. The rest of the main set was outstanding, especially the surprise inclusion of Glorified G which had J, The dancing like a maniac (read: me) in the aisle.

The encores were frantic affairs with house lights on for the most part. Crazy Mary was haunting and Last Kiss was like mass karaoke. Alive saw Eddie and Jeff work the stage like men possessed and the crowd duly went wild. In the second encore Leash was a total surprise and I screamed along like I used to while cruising the mean streets of Brisbane in my Mini with The Wayno in grade twelve. By the time the last chords of Indifference faded away I was spent. Walking zombie-like from the venue we didn’t speak, needing only to exchange knowing looks. J, The and I were sore and tired from dancing. Billybob was sore and tired from maintaining a look of determined concentration. Billybob doesn’t dance in public, you see. I don’t think I even saw him sway or clap along. He says he liked the concert but I knew he was thinking, “They were no Nickelback.”

Until next time around, then. Anybody up for an east coast tour?

The way that tours are structured now and the way it works is a ridiculous consumption of energy … I would consider refusing to tour on environmental grounds, if nothing started happening to change the way the touring operates.

I think it’s a necessary part of what I do, to tour or play live, but I find it unacceptable, what the consequences of that are.

Some of our best ever shows have been in the US, but there’s 80,000 people there and they’ve all been sitting in traffic jams for five or six hours with their engines running to get there, which is bollocks.

So far, not so bad. He’s got a point but he’s determined to squander his chance to make it by inviting ridicule and mocking. Firstly, he concedes that his group doesn’t offset carbon emissions created by their concerts (unlike other major bands such as The Rolling Stones) because “they are not convinced of the environmental benefits.” In reality it’s more likely that they are not ready to part with any more of their cut of the profits than they absolutely must.

Secondly, he goes off on some loopy diatribe about how his band doesn’t agree with his views and the evils of long-haul flying:

It’s all completely la-la. It’s daft. When you discuss it you feel like a prat because you’re saying I’m not happy with that and I want to do it another way. I want to go to the US by ship. The Cure did that years ago because Robert Smith refused to fly, and then I get told that if you take the ship, that’s as much carbon usage.”

Long haul flights just feel wrong. I’m trying to figure out a way of getting to Japan by train. I quite fancy that Trans-Siberian whatsitsname but apparently it’s a bit scary.

The “Trans-Siberian whatsitsname”. Genius.

It all started (here we go) in 1995 in grade 12. Custard were big and I liked ‘em. However, I didn’t really love them until I woke up on the last day of grade 12 to Apartment by Custard on the alarm radio. After a couple of live gigs here and there around BrisVegas I was a confirmed Custard stalker.

Although the band were really cool, it was their frontman who had The Cool. In his Vinnies suits and bed hair, nonchalantly strumming and drawling away, Dave McCormack was everything the pathetic and single late teens/ early 20s Ed wanted to be. If only I could be more like Dave, I thought, maybe I could pick up more (any) chicks.

Many, many gigs later in my new base of Sydney it was 1999 and Custard broke up. A sad, but inevitable, day. The Custard boys just didn’t seem to have that old X factor any more. But Dave moved on to solo work, a brief stint with The Titanics and finally his current Polaroids setup. I was overseas for most of this bar a couple of Titanics gigs but kept up to date with airmail CD orders and the internets.

I’ve been in Melbourne now for four years and have seen Dave about a dozen times since the first fortuitously scheduled event at The Evelyn only days after I arrived. At my side the whole time has been DMac recruit Billybob whose attitude has developed from polite bemusement to almost sincere fanhood.

See you at The Espy tonight. Billybob and I will be the guys in jeans with pints of Guinness.

In fact, I’m even getting pretty excited: these guys, and these guys, and these guys are all going to be there. I might even check out these good-looking young fellows. And who knows who or what else will surprise the hell out of me?

So, given Ed’s problem with a certain band he commented thus: “Go see the Pearl Jams, jLo. Do it for me.” And jLo replied, referring to a love of the band she shared with Ed back in ‘95: “I’m a-gonna Ed. As if I could resist. And I’ll sneer at the young kiddies and remark loudly about how great they were back in ‘95. Because sometimes I like being That Girl.”

So this morning Ed’s trying to get his shit together to leave the house and do stuff and a message comes through on the mobile at 7am from jLo in the UK:

Am listening to Even Flow, just told them you said Hi…

ROCK!

UPDATE (8.54am): Another text message:

Dude. They just ended. With Yellow Ledbetter. I have spontaneously combusted.

Cameras from independent production company Zig Zag, which made Essex Boys for ITV1, will follow the organisers and participants for a 60-minute film, which has the working title of Wank-a-thon. It is expected to air on Channel 4 towards the end of the year.

The event will encourage Londoners – both male and female – to sign up sponsors and head to Clerkenwell in order to masturbate in front of hundreds of others.

Zig Zag said in its blurb for the show: “This year it’s time to bring the event across the pond to see if the great British public can embrace mass public masturbation. It’s time to find out if the only things allowed to be stiff in Britain are upper lips.”

Prizes will be on offer for those who clock up the most orgasms and those who can masturbate the longest – the current record, according to the organisers, is a chafing eight-and-a-half hours.

After Big Brother wouldn’t Helen Coonan and Steve Fielding have fun with this one.

2) Australia’s first-class defence
Doesn’t this hilarious episode give you confidence in Australia’s ability to defend its airspace:

Australia’s fleet of 26 F-111 aircraft has been temporarily grounded following an emergency landing by one of the RAAF fighters in Queensland today.

Air Marshal Shepherd said the pilot of the fighter was one of the most junior with the F-111s, having graduated from the basic conversion course a fortnight ago.

“On takeoff … what happened was when he retracted the undercarriage .. the left main wheel fell off,” he said.

“The rapid assessment we’ve done shows that there’s nothing of an airworthiness nature that would cause us to doubt the longevity of the F-111 capability.”

The left wheel fell off. Off.

3) Two Chinese Boys
The whole interweb probably knows about this site already (The Editor’s always six months behind) but Ed reckons the Da Da Da song is the funniest thing he’s seen in ages.

4) Dirty deals?
Why is Prodos running the website of controversial sort of Liberal Party member and former advisor to Pauline Hanson, John Pasquarelli? Pasquarelli ran as a dummy independent candidate for Bendigo at the 2001 federal election to direct preferences towards the Liberals. The Australian Electoral Commission is investigating him.

* The hottest summer since November Rain by Guns ‘N’ Roses was at number one.
* The wettest July week since Salt ‘N’ Pepa last troubled the Top 10.
* The most sub-zero mornings in a single month since U2 released a decent album.

Somebody needs to tell this guy that having the most played radio song of the year is hardly a mark of good songwriting. It’s more likely due the the brainless, generic pop nature of the tune and the brainless, rhyming dictionary lyrics. When Ben was climbing Mt Everest once, his guru, Narayani Amma, said, “Ben, you will write formulaic pop rubbish that will act as fodder for commercials on soul-less radio stations around the world.” Ben said, “Yes, master, I will.”

Weird, innit?

So one day The Editor’s packing Whoppers at his after school job at a deep-suburban Hungry Jack’s, listening to one of Bris Vegas’ finest commercial radio stations on the PA, and Daughter is announced as the new song from Pearl Jam. Ed fell absolutely, instantly, head-over-heals in love. He resolved to go out and buy that album by that band — what were they called? The Pearl Jams — tomorrow. And so he did, and he went home and listened, and he knew that Pearl Jam was going to be his life-long love.

Two days later The Editor went back to the same music store and bought Ten. Besides from Alive sounding sorta familiar, it was like drinking water for the first time. Ed tried to get a couple of his friends into this amazing new discovery, and he succeeded with one of them, but the rest had new East 17 albums to listen to or some shit.

From there it was only a short skip to Soundgarden, Nirvana (properly) and like bands. A whole new world had opened to Ed, and he liked it. In 1995, shortly after the release of Vitalogy at the start of grade 12, Pearl Jam toured Australia and The Editor spent the best night of his life so far listening to the following set list:

Last Exit, Spin the Black Circle, State of Love and Trust, Corduroy, Elderly Woman, Whipping, Animal, Dissident, Blood, Glorified G, Daughter, Why Go, Jeremy, Lukin, Rearviewmirror, Immortality, Alive, Porch
Encore: Go, Tremor Christ, Not for You, I Got You, Better Man, Once
Encore 2: Yellow Ledbetter

School finished and Pearl Jam released No Code — a dramatic departure in terms of musical style, but unlike most, The Editor was down with that. Ed moved to Sydney and they released Yield, shortly followed by another Australian tour. This time, Ed wasn’t about to do things by halves, so he roped his high school Pearl Jam convert, Wayno, into committing to a three city Pearl Jam fest. Ed and the Wayno drove up the east coast of Australia to watch The Pearl Jams in Melbourne, Sydney and Vegas. For the record, the Vegas show was the standout with an energised band putting their southern performances to shame and pulling out their fantastic B-side Footsteps.

Years pass and The Editor’s starting to grow up and move away from Pearl Jam. Not that he likes them any less, but life moves on, you know. Around this time The Editor started getting right into the band Brad, who feature Pearl Jam’s Stone Gossard on guitar. To this day, Ed’s probably more a fan of Brad than Pearl Jam based purely upon music, but The Pearl Jams and Ed share a lot of history, you know.

Just before Ed jets off overseas for a couple of years they release Binaural, which is a solid, but not outstanding, album. Upon returning to Australia, Ed’s practically forgotten about Pearl Jam until, weeks later, they release Riot Act. The announcement of a third Australian tour stir Ed’s feelings. Booking a ticket (solo) for Melbourne’s Rod Laver Arena, Ed’s not sure what to expect. Is he too old for this shit? Are Pearl Jam, like, soooo ten years ago? The Editor enters the stadium before the concert and is immediately reassured when, sitting in front of him, are a married couple, about Ed’s age, who have brought their freakin’ kids with them. And the boys didn’t disappoint. Eddie Vedder was hammered, drinking bottles of wine and forgetting lyrics throughout the show, but, shit, they still rocked.

And so four years later, it’s 2006. The Editor’s 28 and married. Surely it’s time to move on from that stuff. Pearl Jam release their eighth, self-titled, studio album. Things must be different because back in the day Pearl Jam would never self-title an album (let’s forget about the fact that the working title for vs. was Pearl Jam, okay?). The Editor’s not sure what to expect, given that their last album was a bit of a dud. Should he buy it? Actually, should he download it for nothing? Given that Ed has spent, conservatively, close to $1000 on Pearl Jam records and concert tickets in his time, isn’t it fair that he get this one for free? But the old passion stirred, and yesterday The Editor purchased Pearl Jam at JB Hifi for $18.95.

Holy shit. What an album. It’s like Pearl Jam, but grown up, but young again. Where on Riot Act they sounded jaded and tired, on this one they sound invigorated. The rockin’ songs ROCK, and the ballads make you warm in all the right spots. The guitars are crunchy and angry, and Eddie positively growls into the mic, instead of just warbling lazily like the previous album. In short, it’s an absolute corker that makes The Editor feel like he’s in grade 10 again, but grown up at the same time.

There’s word of an Australian tour later in the year and Ed will certainly be at Rod Laver for his sixth Pearl Jam concert.

As you were.

i had a great week in melbourne. saw kanye west play at festival hall and was intrigued and amazed by much of the show. ive been having alot of conversations lately about abundance. the place where business savvy meets spiritual truth. its funny how many people associate poverty and renunciation with having a pure heart. this seems like an illogical leap to me. while money obviously is not the be all and end all of human life, it is an energy like anything else, and can be manifested as such. what does this have to do with kanye west? well i really admire the way hip hop artists understand that their spiritual and emotional liberation has to come hand in hand with financial independence. of course this opens up all kinds of questions about how to use money in a moral sense, but i wish more rock and roll artists would allow themselves to manifest real abundance, and stop believing in the myth of “the starving artist”.

And it doesn’t get much better than this mission from God stuff:

the reason i feel that self-promotion is not only ok, but vital for me right now is that my mission demands it. i remember once sitting in india when narayani amma said to me “ben’s job is to spread the message of peace and joy around the world”.

obviously for me, my music is the medium in which i am sending out this message. my job then is to determine how to utilize all of the various elements of the music industry machine to get this message of unconditional love out there.

Always remember: Ben loves you unconditionally. Bernard Fanning will be relieved to hear this.

It was Sydney. It was sold out. The Editor had spent days bidding for tickets on Ebay and finally secured a lone ticket (bad luck housemate Robbie) for some ridiculous price like $160. He got inside and met a friend. Within 30 minutes he’d lost that friend and there was no mobile phone backup. A long day was spent in the main arena sucking down overpriced beers and watching the Hottest 100 results flashed up onto the big screen. Towards the end of the afternoon Ed secured a prime spot on top of a large rubbish bin (he’s a small fella, The Editor) in preparation for the Red Hot Chili Peppers who were headlining that year. Making friends with some other dude who liked the bin posse, Ed could finally go for pee and bar trips without losing his seat. The Chili Peppers came on. They sucked (The RHCP haven’t made a good album since One Hot Minute). The concert finished. Ed jumped off the rubbish bin to leave and fell heavily on his ankle, tearing a ligament. For some reason he decided to try and walk home since he couldn’t get a cab (Homebush to Rozelle is a long, long way). A couple of hours and a street-side nap later Ed managed to get a cab, the driver of which was studying homeopathy and administered some anti-inflammatory pills. Sweet, sweet drunken sleep. The next morning The Editor woke fully dressed and slightly dazed. He stepped out of bed, completely forgetting his ankle, and the screaming made housemate Robbie run into the bedroom ready to beat crap out of a house intruder.

What happened to The Editor between the early and late 20s? Now he’s a committed 3PBS man who subscribes to the symphony orchestra and likes electronic jazz. People walk up to him, stare, and say “you’ve changed.”

As you were.

I really, really, really want you to like me

Serious artiste Russell Crowe performed on Sunday at Melbourne’s top music venue, the Richmond Grand Central (where?) to a crowd of “about 200 curious fans,” according to The Age’s Patrick Donovan. A quick check of internet gig guides reveals that Rusty belted out tunes from the same stage that will next week hold Casey Donovan (who?) as she sings to the bar staff and curious pokie addicts.

Pathetically keen to prove that he has a range of talents and that everybody should like him heaps and pay even more attention to him, Crowe pumped out turgid and generic pub rock with fantastically nauseous back stories like a song written on the back of a beer coaster in an Irish pub. This man really has something to say that people need to hear.

Trying to generate some sort of atmosphere at the gig he begged the cheap seat plebs to storm the expensive seats as if it were a freakin’ Limp Bizkit stadium show in the late 90s. Police reported no arrests, medical emergencies or disturbances in general.

But the last word should be left to Rusty and the lyrics to his masterwork My Hand My Heart:

I can never understand
Why when a drink is in my hand
Time accelerates and leaves me still

With one more drink right in my hand
Am I the last man here who’ll stand

We had a meeting – I said I’d see you,
And you know one day I will

It’s so much better when it’s unplanned
To find a drink right in your hands
And we make a pact to kill the afternoon

And we salute the dead marines
then through the laughter and the screams
We remember all the songs we used to sing

So I raise my glass to you,
My hand, my heart and all that’s due
To all the friends that I still know
And those who have passed through

I can never understand
Why when a drink is in my hand
Time accelerates and leaves me still in love with you

This is the man whose greatest contributions to music were a silly hat and a sillier cliff-side guitar solo outside a church in the wind and rain with no visible amp lead.