Speaking in Unknown Tongues

Blindfold Test #27

Mecano: Look Mamá, no synthesizers!

Most high-and-outside wrong-guess misinterpretations this time: The Specimen one where I confuse onetime bigtime British Batcave goth hypes for American hard rock hacks trying to go new wave, and Aalon one where I confuse an L.A. low-rider funk band for a redneck boogie rock band. The latter also involves one of two songs about trains. And once again, I apologize for so many tiresome 6.5 default scores.

Man Parrish “Hip Hop Be Bop (Don’t Stop)“ (single and from Man Parrish, both 1982; Brooklyn electro originator): Synths whipping like metallic wires, zooming back and forth as electronic beats rumble like tom toms or a marching drum team. One electrobeat builds on the next; a pretty reverberating one could be Latin freestyle. Or at least, the repetitive kind of early ’80s NYC danceclub music that inspired freestyle, and maybe Chicago house as well — the Peech Boys, say. After a couple minutes, there’s finally a voice, deep in the mix: “yeaaah yeaah yeaah yeaah,” then eventually “Hip hop! Bee-bop! Don’t stop!” which I assume makes this Man Parrish. Echoing: “Hipop-ipop-ipop, Beebop-ebop-ebop, Don’tstop-ontstop-ontstop.” Two male voices now, one medium pitched and one higher, seemingly more “sampled” than “sung,” increasingly orchestrated and punctuated by deep doggie woofs. I wonder who first connected “hip hop” to “bebop.” Did Grandmaster Flash remind them of Charlie Parker, and rapping of scatting? Or was it the mere fact of cutting contests, or just that the names happen to rhyme? If the latter, where did “doo wop” fit in? 7.5

Thomas Leer “Contradictions” (from Contradictions EP and Letter From America, both 1982; Port Glasgow, Scotland synth-pop artist): Heavy funk rock bassline, then what sounds like horn charts building and curdling and reverberating, as the melody itself somehow briefly mimics “On Broadway.” Funk I at first assumed was organic turns out to be electronic, or at least somewhere between, under a soulish vocal that I’m guessing is probably white and maybe British (in terms of mannerisms if not accent). Main voice more human than subordinate voices. “Tell me somethin’ that I don’t know.” Hints of Latin percussion. Horns come in and out as do the voices, in slashing patterns. Ultimately feels kind of vague. Wouldn’t fill the dancefloor. 6

Playgroup “Going Overdrawn“ (single and on Epic Sound Battles Chapter Two, both 1983; dub studio collective formed by Adrian Sherwood): Yet another electronic dance rhythm, but more understated. A Middle Eastern (or maybe Eastern European?) instrument enters, then what seems to be a violin and piano playing intermittent classical notes that aren’t necessarily related to each other. Melody turns Latin American, but more traditional (cumbia? rhumba? tango? mambo? mango? who knows?) than electronic syncopation generally supports. Actually seems to bounce from continent to continent, traveling all over the map. And now there’s a duck! Okay, probably not a duck but something making a quacking sound. Then, out of nowhere, loud drum beats banging like gunshots at a rifle range. Seemingly a “composition,” aiming for “exploratory eclecticism” or something, though the juxtapositions might be off the top of the head. Increasingly quiet and spare as it goes on, with piano echoing and everything else juxtaposing for juxtaposing’s sake. Turns out to feel increasingly like an Adrian Sherwood dub production. Hard to predict when it ends, and I wouldn’t necessarily call it compelling. 6

Walnutz, peanutz, hazelnutz, cazhewz, piztachioz, hexagon nutz, teztaclez?

Nutz “Nature Intended“ (from Nutz Too, 1975; Liverpool, UK hard rock band): A mouse from Mars squeaks down the stairs then there’s then a pachyderm charge of psychedelic electric guitar as a male rock voice hits high notes that I at first identified as glam rock but then decided were too unkempt — More hard prog, like maybe Rush doing punk boogie. How he says “self-made man” has at least little Geddy Lee in it. The self-made man apparently has a plan involving a black sedan. Not sure it achieves “songness”; also not sure that matters. 6.5

Tommy Scott and his Ramblers feat. Tex Harper “Dance With Her Henry” (78-rpm 10-inch single, 1955, compiled on Scott’s Early Recordings, c. 2012, and vocalist Harper’s 2018 Bear Family 10-inch Dig Me Little Mama; Scott, a country, rockabilly and bluegrass musician, blackface performer and medicine showman from Toccoa, Georgia, had a recording career that spanned the ’40s to the ’80s): About dancing with Henry and feeling that boogie beat while the music goes on, hence presumably post-Etta James — who was answering Hank Ballard herself if I’m getting the chronology right. My guess is white rockabillies covering or re-interpreting early ’50s black rhythm and blues…Though wait, Etta wanted Henry to roll with her, right? So maybe this cool cat’s answering Hank too. And maybe Hank is Henry! Possibly even Aaron not Ballard! Either way, the singer still tells Henry “you ain’t movin’ me,” amidst high shrieking caws, as in what crows do. Doesn’t entirely sound rockabilly either. Proto-rockabilly, maybe? Not quite Harmonica Frank Floyd, but possibly a contemporary. And still too rough and ready to come across as a white-washing. 6.5

Billy Murray feat. the American Quartette “Casey Jones“ (Edison cylinder single, 1912, collected on Anthology – The Denver Nightingale, 2002, the 2019 JSP UK compilation Protobilly: The Minstrel And Tin Pan Alley DNA Of Country Music 1892-2017, and other archival reissues; pop tenor, voice actor, Vaudeville performer and early recording superstar, born in Philadlephia in 1877): Super foggy low-fidelity sound, clearly from the very early 20th Century era before records were flat discs. Probably the oldest blindfold test entry yet! “Come all you rounders if you want to hear the story about Casey Jones the great engineer,” who left his wife at the station then took “his farewell trip to that promised land.” A train crash story, which maybe actually happened, involving a coal-fueled steam locomotive, which might have been the only kind there was at that point, but also judging by how Casey shovels said petroleum byproduct and pokes his head out the window despite the water being so low that “we’re gonna reach Bristol but we’ll all be dead.” You need water for the steam, I guess? I’ve honestly never given any thought at all as to how old trains worked. Anyway, Casey climbs up that Reno (as in Nevada?) hill, and the switchman turns to the fireman and says “you better jump, because two locomotives are going to bump” — which sounds like an understatement, “bump” being such a gentle word. Before he dies, Casey’s last wish is to ride the Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe. He also names “the Salt Lake line,” which I gather is the one that crashed (which might explain its heading into Reno?) Anyway, an antique nasal voice, not minstrel or music hall but in the vicinity of both. Also not much music to it, but a jaunty tale as fatal train accidents go. 6.5

Bog-shed “Packed Lunch To School“ (from Step On It, 1986; Hebden Bridge, UK, post-punk band): Starts with hard not heavy clang of guitar, more or less the riff the Sex Pistols stole from “Communication Breakdown,” and then there’s a high-register Limey lad ranting something about “Pelican school” over and over, totally squealing the “school” part. Also: “Sergant Bilko, Wilko Johnson!,” as in the old TV NCO and Dr. Feelgood’s great guitar player, and yelped interjections of “owwwww owwwwwww!” High-powered, high-weirded, high-pitched post-post-punk. Blammo! 6.5

SRC “Midnight Fever“ (from Traveler’s Tale, 1970, compiled on The Revenge of the Quackenbush Brothers, 1986, and Black Sheep, 2000; Birmingham, Michigan psychedelic band): Fusionish early hard psych, chunky and airy under a flat clunk of a rock voice (“I got a midnight fever, so give your wild love to me”)– not quite heavy, not quite funky, but on the verge of both. Woooh-yeah sub-Steppenwolf horndog biker dudes, with not the highest GPAs or SAT scores. 5.5

Borghesia “Lovci/Hunters“ (from No Hope, No Fear, 1987; “Slovenian electronic and rock music group, created in Ljubljana [at the time in Yugoslavia]… chief instigators in the Electronic Body Music genre” [discogs]): A woman hums in her sleep while snoozing beasts near her wake up, leopards and lions growling in the next cage over. Her gasps and breaths either mean to be sexy or scary, porno or horror, ecstasy or distress. Or both. Electronic throbs and gnawing abrasions — If there be monsters, they be mechanical ones. I keep thinking of the Robert Wilson robot rape on those early editions of Appetite for Destruction. (Still have my copy; wonder how much it’s worth.) 6

Funky 4 + 1 (-1)

Funky Four “Feel It (The Mexican)“ (single and on split album Crash Crew Meets Funky Four, both 1983; from the Bronx, “first hip hop group to receive a record deal, as well as the first to perform live on national television,” “first to start selling their records commercially,” and “first to have a woman MC, Sha-Rock.” [Wikipedia]): Rhythm shakes it like a salt shaker, then a chorus: “Heeeeey everybody (male voice), heeeeey everybody (female voice), feel it in your body…” Unaccompanied, a woman commands “Get down to the funky song, get down to the funky beat!” Horns ring in the electro funk, vocoders take over the vocal, and there’s bullfight fanfare, what sounds like the British prog-rock band Babe Ruth in Ennio Morricone mode — in fact, it could actually be them, doing “The Mexican” or “For a Few Dollars More.” Except wait, I think this is a mastermix — A woman’s rapping, 1982 style. Mentions Keith Keith and Jazzy Jeff, but they don’t mean the Fresh Prince’s DJ, because it’s too early for him and those names were in Funky Four Plus One and the woman is Sharrock. I do remember they did a version of “The Mexican,” but somehow I don’t remember ever hearing it ’til now! Hard to believe this is the same group that did “That’s the Joint” and “Rapping and Rocking the House,” two of the greatest records in the history of the universe; this one displays not a fraction of those songs eternal obsessive energy. On the other hand, it is better than their other obscure single “Do You Want to Rock,” a seemingly label-driven and barely passable failed attempt at Solar Records-style r&b crossover. “The Mexican,” on the other hand, is clearly their post-“Planet Rock” move, Babe Ruth being an extremely important if undernoticed element in the Soul Sonic Universe (and I think Bambaata-adjacent post-no-wave art-funk band Material even did their own version of “For a Few Dollars More” on Celluloid around then.) “Listen everybody, we got something new” — Well, for the Funky Four Plus One, it was new. Quite possibly the best band ever who never made a full album. Here, the “Mexican” theme comes and goes. Not sure if Jellybean Benitez had done his version by then. Also not sure there’s anything particularly “Mexican” about the matador theme Babe Ruth came up with. And also not sure if all five Funky Four Plus Ones even show up here. Still: Both fresh and fly!! 7.5

Die Radierer “Angriff Auf’s Schlaraffenland“ (From Angriff Auf’s Schlaraffenland EP, 1981, and collected on Cowboys Auf Zebras – The Best Of Die Radierer, 2003; Limburg, West Germany Neue Deutsche Welle band): A German-accented fellow recites English through some robo-bubbles, announcing “Double-O-7 is ready for takeoff, over” into the bathtub faucet serving as his air traffic control transmitter. Then he switches to German; I recognize occasional words (clar mein drei vier), but not enough to decipher. He talks more than sings, and eventually a woman seems to join him, over arcade space invader blips sprocketeers can pop and lock to in their lederhosen. Robo-pop new wave, not at all avant garde. Maybe coulda been a hit in Germany. 6.5

Specimen’s frontghoul impatiently waits for his clawnails to dry.

Specimen “Beauty of Poisin” (single and on Batastrophe EP, both 1983, collected on Wet Warm Clingfilm Red Velvet Crush, 1997; Bristol, UK death rock/goth band): Commercial hard rock probably, ’80s probably judging mainly by the opening riff, though I guess it could even be ’90s (or ’70s for that matter.) But the vocal sounds more frantic new wave nerdy than beefy hard rock macho, so okay I’m gonna guess these are mainstream rock dogs keeping up with the Cars by herking their jerk and scritching their scratch — prime fake new wave in other words, like say maybe 4 Out of 5 Doctors, from that brief window when AOR was awkwardly but charmingly trying on skinny ties, before MTV came around and gave all those coveted playlist slots to Brit invaders. The title, which he (or they if two different singers) says countless times, is almost definitely “The Beauty of Poison.” Fun enough, but far hookier examples of this sort are out there, possibly even by this particular band of happy hopeful hacks. 6

Danny Darrow “Doomsday“ (single and EP title track, both 1980; Chicago singer and film actor): A rumbling rotunda of rotund drums and a descending atomic-bomb synth line and a big band’s worth of instruments all raring to go, disco-style. Vocal is breathy, aiming for ominous –“Doomsday’s acoming, so let’s get down to it, let’s drown in our juices of love, we gotta taste it, we gotta get it on.” Metal disco — Well, metal in mood at least, though there are occasional spurts of loudish rock guitar. The horns are louder though, and more persistent. “Doooooomsday, make looooooooove….” His vocal is 100% in whisper mode, though not primarily quiet whispers. It’s judgement day, party’s over out of time, so tonight he’s gonna party like it’s 1999: “We gonna get it on, before that fatal day.” Music for a dancefloor orgy, in an S&M club for all I know. Or maybe DJs just worked it into their Halloween sets. Has gotta rank with disco at its kinkiest, which is saying a lot, up there with the Skatt Bros’ “Walk the Night” — though obviously labels like Wax Trax! took sinful sleaze and decadent disease like this for granted a decade or whatever later, reduced it to a mere genre move. The music does eventually open up into pure propulsive rhythm. I wonder if this person made any other records. Also wonder how much club play this got. More horns toward the end; maybe more horniness too. Ends on lots and lots more “Doooooomsday, make looooooooove”s, with congas down below and brass up above. 7.5

Pulsallama, cooking out while their spouses burn burgers for Satan.

Pulsallama “The Devil Lives in My Husband’s Body“ (single, 1982, compiled on Pulsallama, 2000; Manhattan-based “all-girl bass and percussion band” [discogs]): What sounds like rather exasperated wife or girlfriend or mom or teacher: “What are you doing down there”? From big opening basslines, feels like B-52sish dance-oriented new wave rock. Women chattering: “We don’t have a dog.” Oh wait, “The Devil Lives in My Husband’s Body,” which was Pulsallama’s actual single, not just an outtake by them that leaked out decades later. And hey, I did guess “wife” first! Guess I’ve been married long enough to know a wifely tone when I hear one! “No one can help us but the witch next door….Our friends can not help us anymore.” Stuff about hamburgers and drinks, like it’s a neighborhood cookout, so the witch isn’t burning, unless she’s burning something over the grill. Lady of the house looks over at his spouse and gets hysterical when “He starts barking!” Now she’s wondering if an exorcist might be available on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Takes him to the hospital, and two weeks later the doctor calls back and says he has some rare neurological disorder and he’ll be like that for the rest of his life. Worst thing is, their medical insurance doesn’t even cover it! 7

Paintbox “Take It From Here“ (single B-side, 1972; Sydney pop-rock group originally featuring ex-Easybeats/future AC/DC producers Harry Vanda and George Young): Well-fed powerpop jangle, with an opitimistic mood to match: “Everything was mine, not a care at all in the whole wide world.””We’ve gotta take it from here, we’ve gotta make it from here, we’ve got a lifetime ahead, we’ve gotta start a new day” — solo male, but with a group chorus. Early ’70s I’m sure, may even have been a low level chart hit, from Edison Lighthouse or Spiral Staircase or Wadsworth Mansion or one of those bands. Though more “rock” than any of those, so even Badfinger for all I know. Catchy and pretty and hit-worthy, a hearty pop-rock sound, but still kinda generic. A good chance this band had at least one bigger hit, maybe a few. 6.5

Niagara has a TV eye on the rest of Destroy All Monsters.

Destroy All Monsters “What Do I Get” (single, 1979, collected on November 22. 1963, 1989, Bored, 1991, and various self-titled anthologies; Detroit band formed in 1973 by Ann Arbor art students including Mike Kelley that “touched on elements of punk rock, psychedelic rock, heavy metal and noise rock with a heavy dose of performance art” [Wikipedia] and featured alumni of the Stooges and MC5 in later lineups): Fuzzed, fast and furious guitar riff, proto-metal almost. Woman (I think) with distorted voice takes a ride to the something part of town, where the boys make promises, then always let her down. Missing link between Shocking Blue and (Kim Gordon-fronted) early Sonic Youth. Cigarettes and Tuesday nights. “What I wanna know, what I wanna know, what you forgot to tell me, is waddo I get, waddo I get, waddo I get!” Untrusting, cynical, pissed off. Could be end of ’60s (garage turning acid rock) or end of ’70s (punk era). If the latter, probably from California and on Dangerhouse. Except she finally mentions Detroit, so maybe she’s Niagara in Destroy All Monsters? Quite the effective disgusted-with-life punch in the face. 7

Skull Snaps “It’s a New Day” (from Skull Snaps, 1973; New York funk/soul band): Clippity clop drums, laid back country soul blues kickoff on the front porch. “Who you gonh trust?” “In God we trust, don’t make a fuss.” “Its’ not right, to get uptight….you can make it if you try.” Positive attitude deep soul uplift, lead voice answered by chorus or band, proto-rap in terms of spoken rhyming and funked-up drum bridge. “It’s a new day, and better days comin’…Just step to the back of the bus.” Not sure I get that part — is he being sarcastic? Presaging “Rosa Parks” by OutKast? Early to mid ’70s I’d estimate. 6.5

Aalon Butler, older but no less dapper.

Aalon “Steven Baine’s Electric Train“ (from Cream City, 1977; L.A. funk/soul band fronted by Eric Burdon’s former guitarist Aalon Butler): Southern boogie rock with organ, wah wah, drum clatter. “Be strong, ’cause I’m runnin’ faster every day…Coast to coast…Chooo chooo! Chooo chooo! I’m coming to get you, Chooo chooo! Chooo chooo, right away!” Then more: “Choo ch ch choo I said when I met you choo ch ch choo I’ll be back someday.” 4 x 4 = 16 choos in the chorus, which actually happens at least four times through the song, so 4 x 16 = 64, which adds up to a whole lot chooing going on. Locomotive rock riding a railroad rhythm, would’ve fit right into my Train Songs That Sound Like Trains Accidental Evolution chapter (as might the Edison cylinder Casey Jones song way up above somewhere come to think of it.) Though I’m not totally sure this is a song about a train per sé. 6.5

The United States of America “The Garden of Earthly Delights“ (from The United States of America, 1968; L.A. “experimental/ psychedelic rock/avant-garde/acid rock/proto-prog” band [Wikipedia]): Alien martian sci-fi satellite effects introduce a Grace Slick-reminiscent woman quavering about nightshade — eco-freak Wiccan rock, and she really does sing like she’s casting a spell: “Blackening mushrooms, beckon the rain.” Insect Trust, maybe? 6.5

The Feelgood Factor “The Whole Church Should Get Drunk” (single, 1998, included Lo-Fidelity Allstars 1999 DJ mix album On the Floor at the Boutique; alias of Norman Cook aka Fatboy Slim): What appears to be a preacher, sermonizing in a Black Southern pastorly growl about “The thoid hour of the day, and the choich, and the congregation,” “and when the day of Pentecost surely comes” and “a sound from heaven like a rushin” [or maybe Russian?] mighty wind,” But mostly, again and again, he proposes that “the whole church should…get drunk.” A suggestion to which the congregation audibly gives its assent. At first I thought it might be an actual gospel record, but once the electronic beats started I realized the sermon was a sample, a grandchild of “Help Me Somebody” on Eno and Byrne’s My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, great-grandchild of the minister opening the Hombres’ “Let It Out (Let It All Hang Out)” with his “preachment” about “John Barleycorn, nicotine, and the temptations of Eve.” But this is electronica of some sort, big beat maybe, and the preacher is all through the song — which beats just the beats on their own, though the congregation assents to them as well. And the church, obviously, is a danceclub (a metaphor dating back at least to the disco era), and of course everybody there should get drunk. Once the beats start, I don’t pay attention to the reverend as much — until I do again. “Your young man shall see visions, and your old man shall dream dreams, can I get a witness tonight?” And naturally the dancers rising from their pews give him one. “Every usher, on the usher boat [?], should get drunk…the church choir should get drunk…every missionary, should get drunk.” Probably more fun than most of Moby’s religion sample moves (inasmuch as I remember them), but on the other hand, even here, the preaching never really rises above the level of gimmick — a novelty record ultimately, no matter its intention. “They all got drunk, they got drunk on the holy ghost, they started speaking in unknown tongues”… Hey, somebody call Richard Meltzer! 6.5

Bonzo Dog Band “Rhinocratic Oaths” (from The Doughnut In Granny’s Greenhouse/Urban Spaceman, 1968/1969, compiled on The History of the Bonzos, 1974; “British art-school students” mixing “music hall, trad jazz and psychedelia with surreal humour and avant garde art” [Wikipedia]) Smooth jazzish opening, then a veddy British and whimsical voice talking about Percy getting up like a dog and tearing his trousers off with his bare feet. Then something about some non-ruffian knocking on Mrs. Petty’s front door before considering becoming an alcoholic. Again, a joke song without actual punchlines — the Bonzo Dog Band’s speciality if not their only recipe, unless there’s an outside chance it could be Stackridge or somebody like that instead. I guess being Brit makes the background jazz “trad” rather than “smooth”? Never having ever listened to Mr. Acker Bilk I can’t be too sure, but that’s my guess anyway. When the lead bloke mentions Queen Elizabeth, everybody cheers. This schtick sure gets old fast. 5

Mecano “Los Amantes” (single and on Descanso Dominical, both 1988, compiled on Esencial Mecano, 2013; Madrid synth-pop band): Piano at the start has exactly the same melody as “Common People” by Pulp (their line about the woman with a thirst for knowledge studying at St. Martin’s College), after which a lady starts singing sweetly in…Spanish, I think? Or possibly French. One of those anyway. And the tune doesn’t change, though I’m almost positive this isn’t a cover; in fact there’s an excellent chance it came out before the Pulp classic. Flimsy Europop with a slight Mediterranean sway — reminds me of certain records I’ve heard by Vanessa Paradis, Mitsou, Xuxa, Mecano, Paulina Rubio. Ending is abrupt, a dead stop. 6.5

Cromagnon, leaving the Neanderthals behind.

Cromagnon “Crow of the Black Tree“ (from Cromagnon [later reissued as Orgasm and Cave Rock], 1969; NYC “avant-garde/sound collage/psychedelic rock/obscuro” band, “said to have foreshadowed the rise of noise rock, no wave, industrial” [Wikipedia] and black metal): First there’s a brief, acoustic-flutter instrumental intro that reminds me of some ’70s singer-songwriter swill I can’t quite put my finger on. A couple seconds of white space tricking you into thinking the track is over make way for people making mouth sounds over menacing strums, and crashes and bangs that I assume are supposed to be “experimental.” Oddly, I don’t hate it. Seems to be setting a scene, a war scene maybe. No words as far as I can tell, at least for a while, but plenty of voices. The music just kind of heaves and hoes and repeats the same eight notes and crashes over and over. Either boring in an interesting way or interesting in a boring way, stuck in a rut like Groundhog Day. Or a really bad back-to-the-stone-age acid trip (not that I’ve ever experienced one myself — too much trauma in my childhood I’d be scared to dredge back up). So yeah, if this is a battle, it’s a battle with rocks and stones, before hominids mastered language. The notes get more feral and primal as the track goes on, then stop so the band can just hoot and holler a capella, still tripping balls but at least they escaped that groundhog hole — and they sound even less musical than before, but hey progress is progress. At the end they almost seem to form words: “to all the seeeeaaaaa” and something suffixed “-ations” and one guy holding a really long note. Weird-assed shit! Not that I’d ever want to listen all the way through again, but it deserves a couple bonus sui generis points at least. 6

Tonto’s Expanding Head Band “Tama“(from Zero Time, 1971, later reissued on Tonto Rides Again, 1996, and various self-titled sets; “British-American electronic music duo” who “helped bring the synthesizer to the mainstream through session and production work for other musicians” [Wikipedia]): Thunderstorm effects. Then outer space effects. Sounds sad. Sad in space. Because lost, maybe. And being a rocket man sitting in a tin can high above the world is lonely, like Elton and Bowie told us. Rocketship rumbles past the asteroids and carries us to a space age bachelor pad. Which actually sounds kind of beautiful. So we’re basically just kind of floating up there. Nobody talks or anything because there’s nobody else to talk to in space I guess. Pleasant enough while it lasts, then seconds later you realize you might have just heard new age music getting invented. 5.5

Frank Soda and the Imps “I Mean Business” (from Frank Soda and the Imps, 1980, and included on High Times [Greatest Hits 1979-1995], 2006; Toronto hard rock band fronted by Italy-born, British Columbia-raised guitarist “known for his warped sense of humor” [discogs]) Heavy riff switches into a reggae rhythm, and then it’s back and forth — riff is excellent and the reggae attempt fairly incongruous but the tradeoff halfway works regardless. “A negative reaction creates a positive solution…Basic lack of communication…” Presumably a white guy from a heavy rock band putting on a blackface Jamaican accent because, surprise surprise, “This is the hour to get high.” Title seems to be “Funny Business,” or oh wait “I Mean Business.” I live by my rules, life is for fools.” The fake Rasta costume is ridiculous — You get the idea all reggae sounds the same to them, and I’m sure they have no idea how corny they come across. Actually sounds like 10cc doing, uh, reggae metal, but not nearly as good as “Dreadlock Holiday.” And I swear something about it convinces me they’re Canadian. It’s got that well-meaning Can-con cluelessness to it. (Could be Australian too, but I’ll put my money on Canada.) 6

Eliminated for Reasons of Space, 14 April 2025