Total Combined Weight

Let's just say…HELL YES!!!

Just to Be Cruel...

Yesterday I learned the true meaning of "viral video" and so I thought I would share it with everyone for the approaching holiday. 

The "Turkey Song" is something analogous to lyrical herpes, a gift that keeps on giving. I have no idea what the origin of this song is, but the kids in the special ed class that I have been observing love it. 

So yeah…

Enjoy…

If anything, the song is better than anything Rebecca Black sings or any other Top 40 hits of the last ten years.

Music of the Spheres: Typhoon…The Honest Truth

Sometimes songs become anthems…or just momentary themes for the prevailing mood of the moment. Since this summer "The Honest Truth" by Typhoon has been one of those songs.

I am not certain how to describe the moment that "The Honest Truth" has come to embody. It may be one of simple catharsis. It may be a simple revelatory moment--one of clarity when you see what is there is front of you. Plain, simple, free of subtext, or added pretense…

As you will see through this video, you are confronted with a song of punctuated rhythms, clear imagery, and a sing-along chorus that spits in your face as the refrain of "You're gonna piss and moan, you let the devil in your home…" hits with twelve voices.

And one might ask, is the baseball bat Chekhov's gun?

Even though I have only met the band once, I realize that I know three or four people roaming around the street scene in the. It makes me miss home.

The lyrics may mean different things to different people, but for now, it just seems like the right song for the right time.

Four Month Update...

I just realized that today it has been four months since I left Portland and officially began my new life as a nursing student in a new town. And while I typically avoid biographical blog posts and their emotive tendencies, I thought I would take just a few moments to reflect upon my few month's here in Bozeman and sum them up with two videos.

You probably are familiar with the song, so I feel no need to give them an introduction. However, you may not be familiar with both versions of the music video. 

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So why these two videos? Because they represent Bozeman perfectly. Bozeman is a town that has one leg stuck in the west and its other leg head shoved up its ass.

Bozeman has this strange desire to maintain its completely absent and dead western heritage. This entails doing a few things:

• Having galleries that have only paintings of horses and bronze sculptures of buffalo.
• Playing bluegrass everywhere.
• Driving oversized vehicles

On the contrary, Bozeman also wants to be as urban as possible. This leads to a comical confluence of nouveau riche sporting cowboy hats driving Jaguars looking for a campsite that has electrical outlets for their satellite television set that they brought to watch in their tent. We have people who put on perfume or cologne to go for a trail run. Or, as shown in the two videos above, people who insist that fiddles, Eurotrash dance beats, and auto-tuning are a great combination. 

I used to think that Portland was a land of contradictions until I moved out here. But alas, this is home for for twelve more months. I will survive. But please understand, if I end up moving to the woods living like the Unibomber, you now know the reasons why.

Musical Interludes

So Bozeman isn't all bad...If you're over 60. Why, because you can join a choral group and sing songs that everyone has forgotten. Or will soon forget with the onset of dementia. It's kind of a blessing in disguise.

I have no idea what this group of Septa, Octo, and Nonagenarians are called, but one sang with an oxygen tank by his side (seriously, I can't make this up). The group brought in their own mannequin pioneer woman for some unknown reason which sat propped up in a far corner of the cafe where I sat studying. And best of all was the detached stuffed horse head. The horse head would normally be found on a broomstick and be paraded by a kid wearing a paper cowboy hat, but removed from the stick, it looked as if a community theater troupe was going to re-enact scenes from "The Godfather." The severed horse head rested on the ground as the aged chorus sang a stirring rendition of "Ghost Riders in the Sky." 

And that is what goes on in this town. One might say it is awesome...Other's might say something to the contrary.

The Final Farewell Song Batch: Hot Rods, The Future, and Humor

So this is it people...
No more posts of me plaguing you with my angelic voice. But before I put up the final three songs, let me tell you what songs were unfortunately culled from the list.

"Tick Tock" by Ke$ha was unfortunately removed from the list because, well, I didn't learn the song in time. I tried to let every song be a true representation of my future life, wishes, hopes, and fears. And since I don't "brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack" and have the popo shut me down, I figured I would be putting up a facade.

Also culled from the album was "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk" by Tracy Adkins. The reasons for including this song on the list are just as numerous as excluding it. Besides being probably one of the worst songs written at this point in the century, it is just really, well stupid.

"Superstar" would have made it on the list if it hadn't become so damned popular because of American Idol. Curse you American Pop Cultural Happenings that I refuse to take part in. I shake my angry fist at you.

There were a number of rap/hip-hop songs I considered including as well. The list included "Whoomp There It Is"; "Baby Got Back"; "Fight the Power"; and "Planet Rock."

"Purple Rain" almost made the list and so did "Living on a Prayer," but they didn't, so cry tears of what may have been at another point in time.

Today I leave you with three songs.

Rob Zombie's "Dragula," is a song that makes no sense whatsoever. I can't explain what it is about. I think it's about a drag race...a drag race through HELL...or maybe Idaho. Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love of All" is about children, not about HELL...and the BeeGees, "I Started a Joke," is about tears, traumatic brain injury, and strange looking men singing in falsetto voices. Well, at least that is how I interpret these songs. Your interpretations may be different than mine. And that is your choice.

Patrick Sings Farewell: Three-In-One Spectacular

For today's presentation, I bring you songs that try to make a rhyme scheme using the name Serengeti, persistent midgets, and departures via air travel.

To be honest, I really don't know what the song "Africa" is really about. Yet when I listen to this song, knowing that Toto wrote this amazing track and also did the soundtrack to Dune, makes me want to climb a distant pile of sand in an arid desert and wait for a giant sandworm... The song is that EPIC!

"Little Willy" by Sweet is a song about the most persistent and popular midget around town. Apparently, the man is incredibly stubborn as well because he never really wants to leave...or go...or do much of anything as far as I can. To make it worse, Willy is apparently indecisive. And nothing in this world is more annoying that a stubborn hipster midget unable to make up his mind. As a complete aside, try and find "Little Willy" on the Sweet's Greatest Hits album, it isn't there. One on wonders, Why?

And for today's final video, we have "Leaving on a Jet Plane," by Peter, Paul and Mary, a folk song that I believe has been banned from karaoke bars near airports for numerous reasons. I have heard stories of tour guides in Bangkok being subjected to drunken German tourists croon this tune numerous times in one evening as they ended their summer holiday....This can be considered one of the true gifts that American folk music brings to the world, drunken annoyance via foreign travelers.

And with that, I present three videos.

Robots and The Seasons...or...My Battle Versus the Copyright Elves

Apparently the copyright elves don't like my harmonious voice, for today I received notice that the videos that I have been posting of me singing the sweet songs of farewell are being tagged by YouTube as possible infringements of the rights' holders property.

Ah, if only they knew...If only they knew that I was singing these songs in the realm of fair use as a declaration of love for my fellow colleagues, friends, and assorted and sundry strangers who occasionally stumble upon my blog.

So you should watch these videos while they are proverbially "hot." They may not last forever if the copyright elves decide to strip them away from me.

So first we have "Mr. Roboto" by Styx a song about robots and overcoming oppression. Following that proud anthem, we have the wonderfully cheerful song "Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks, which is about telling your father how hard it is to die. This isn't an easy thing to do, nor is it an easy song to sing, but it has a lot of crooning about seasons. And we all love the seasons.

Therefore, I present...music.

Singing Songs of Love, Hope, Surfing, and Iambing

As promised, here are the first two videos from the album, "Patrick Sings Farewell."

The first song is a symbolic tribute to taking flight, as the introduction to the video explains, and is a proud declaration that a certain word, "Bird," happens to be the word.  The following song is a proclomation of identity of saying, "I Am." Well, actually, of having said "I Am," to inanimate objects such as chairs. While Neil Diamond likes to make such self-assured statements to furniture, I will never know. But for me, I was to proudly to declare that "I Am the Bird," or something like that.

I wish I could say that there were fancy live videos to the singing portion of the song, but there aren't. Just a black screen, a future unknown. It's poetry, I think.

Posters of the Past...

A number of years ago, I tried my hand at booking and promoting shows. Safe to say, it wasn't the most successful venture, only three to my name. But here is one of the one of the old posters for some K Records musicians that played back in 2000.

Back then, The Microphones was fairly unknown (awkward English phrasing, I know) and Mirah was also pretty obscure outside of northwest circles.

Of course, being in a town like Ashland, promoting a show is like pulling teeth with a pair of tweezers. Never fun, nor easy. Needless to say, this little poster I made was one of the few pieces of evidence that I know these bands back in the day. The Microphones now go by Mount Eerie, Mirah is an indie darling, and Calvin is still Calvin singing in his glorious baritone.

Open Letter: Dear Mr. Kissinger

Dear Mr. Kissinger

I want to thank you for taking the time to read this open internet letter. I do hope you find yourself well this July day. While many individuals probably contact you to discuss music and world affairs, I wanted to write to you about music. And pitch something to you that I think is both a work of pure genius and soul. And you, Mr. Kissinger are the only person that can assist with this project.

Certain albums are always going to be memorable. Just like classic works of art, they remain implanted in one's brain leaving an indelible mark for a lifetime. Andy Warhol made his impact with Soup Cans, but he also produced one of the great rock bands of the 60s, The Velvet Underground. With Nico singing on the first album, her baritone voice projecting over the drone of psychedelia, a new era of sonic attitude and altitude was achieved.

But that of course is history, just like the Ford administration. Mr. Kissinger, I bring up this band because Nico is no longer with us, she met an untimely fate a few decades back, thus The Velvet Underground will never have a singer with a truly lusty European baritone voice ever again.

That is where you come in.

With modern karaoke technology, we can revitalize the glory that was The Velvet Underground...but instead of Nico, it will be Kissinger. And it will be AWESOME!!! I am certain we can convince Lou Reed that this is abstract political performance art or something...he can cash in on it too.

You will sing "All Tomorrow's Parties," "I'll Be Your Mirror," and "Femme Fatale." Just three songs! That is all you have to do.

So please Mr. Kissinger, consider this modest proposal. I am certain we can enlighten a whole generation of music lovers.

Meowable Song...And a Moment of Shame

For today's Meowable Song, I have chosen something of high sentiment a bit beyond the scope of my personal sharing range.

When I was a very young child and shed the early childhood music of Raffi and Sesame Street Disco, I soon discovered that I had a passion for instrumental anthems. The most monumental anthem of the early 80s and of my early childhood development was written by truly gifted musician. In 1982 this music won awards and acclaim around the world. And at three-years of age, I had truly discovered that the synthesizer was an amazing instrument.

If you haven't figured out that I am talking about the Chariots of Fire Soundtrack, then I forgive, for this is probably the most influential album in my entire life. My parents owned the LP and I always requested they play it over and over and over. The very first cassette that I ever owned which went along with my first Sony Walkman was this soundtrack. I played the cassette until it chewed itself up and spit itself out in a spaghetti tangle of magnetic tape.

And when I started to discover women, I felt that this album, on vinyl, would be one of the tools of wooing. Alas, no one told me the ways of courtship and how flawed my thinking actually was as a young college kid with a turntable.

I remember the evening very clearly. After hanging out with a young woman I shall only refer to as S, we ended up back at my apartment to "listen to music." She sat in my Lay-z-boy recliner while I sat on the floor of my apartment sorting through my record collection looking for the right music to set the mood. Of course I chose Vangelis, what other options did I have? Jackie-O Motherfucker...No. Neil Diamond...Well, maybe. Ballad of the Green Berets...Definite Hell No... So admittedly, my vinyl collection was a little thin to necessitate a turntable, but it gave me access to the most awe inspiring songs ever written. I didn't tell S what I was going to play, I just told her, "This song is the most important song you will ever hear." I placed the needle in the groove and the pulsing single chord progression moved forward until the French horn blew threw. "Wait for it," I boldly stated, "It gets even better." As the piano began to play, she began to laugh. Not a girlish giggle, not a snicker, chortle, or  a tee-hee-you're-cute-let's-make-out-laugh, she was on the floor in tears laughing. "No, no, no, this is important." I calmly and insistently stated, as picked up the needle and started the album again. "This song is one of the most amazing things ever created." But of course, I had already fallen off of the precipice, my lady friend was too far into convulsive laughter to find Vangelis significant enough of a song for a make-out session. And I was left to reevaluate what music I used for setting moods. When the song ended, and she managed to stop laughing, S stated that was one of the funniest things she had ever seen, as if this was a well played piece of performance art or comedy. Little did she know that I was trying to impress her and failing in glorious fashion. She took off with little fanfare, and I was left with my LP of Chariots of Fire wondering where I went wrong.

Now in my defense, S was a classically trained musician, a pianist in fact. But this would not even stir her. At one point in time I wrote a song for her and tried to perform it. She was not impressed. Such is the way with things. College was a rough time for learning the hardships of courtship.


But enough of regret and shame. "Titles" by Vangelis is the feature track off of the Chariots of Fire Soundtrack. On a Meowable Scale, I give it an 11 of 10. However, on a Emasuclatron Scale, It gets a firm 15 out of 10. What is the Emasculatron Scale? Well, the Emasculatron Scale is something new, it is basically a statistically valid measurement of how emasculating an object, be it music, art, food, whatever, is. That evening and the events of it magnified by the catalyst of "Titles" makes an emasculating event measurable by the Emasculatron Scale. The following video also ranks high on the Emasculatron Scale for two reasons, one being I will never run a four-minute mile, the other, well...figure it out.

Meowable Song of the Day: "The Ditty" by Paperboy

I firmly believe that 1992 was the best year for hip-hop and rap music ever. First of all you had Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" representing the Northwest sound, then Gansta Rap breaks through with Dr. Dre's "The Chronic," Arrested Development brings the urban conscious hip-hop to the masses with "Mr. Wendel," and finally, we have this single released by Paperboy.

The Ditty.

One the Wonderful World of Clutter Meowable Song Scale it ranks a 10 for the samples. As for the lyrics...well that is a completely uncharted territory.

Paperboy is a skilled rapper with a very quick lyrical flow, however, I have no idea what he is saying in many instances. Looking at the various lyric sites on the internet, it seems many other are in similar standing to me. Often the transcribed lyrics included bracketed "unverified lyric" or "unknown word" in their words. In one instance a site mistranslated the word prophylactic to a more creative t noun phrase "purple lactic." I am not entirely certain what this is or what is a "purple lactic" would be, but I don't think I would like to meet one, a la Ogden Nash.  Mistranslations aside, as far as I can tell, the lyrics of the song include many references to breakfast foods, and safe sex with prostitutes. Well, whatever works.

I once tried to perform this song at a karaoke bar against better judgement. I have a long standing belief that white people should not attempt to rap at karaoke bars; the same rule should be applied to half-Japanese-half-Irish individuals such as myself because the end result is a tragic mess of slurred words, mumbled awkwardness, and microphone pauses in a bar filled with strangers jeering at bad performers.

So sit back and bob your head to The Ditty

Ah the 90s...Crack and and the Damage Done

I remember when the following video by The Dogs came out almost two decades ago. My schoolmates and I would skip around in circles chanting, "Yo Mamma's on Crack Rock..."


This however does not rank as a meowable song. Instead it falls into the realm archaic public awareness songs. There were others, like "No Coke" by Dr. Alban. This too lack's any meowability. Basically singing about crack is about as much fun as singing about meth, but but with teeth intact.


Anyway, for your viewing pleasure....

Wonderful World of Clutter Year Two

Welcome to the second year of this blessed thing called a blog.
Presented for you today is the Minority Triangle of the B-Side.

And the wonderful fun of Sharpie Knuck-Tats...

It is with these fists that I shall punch through injustice and shatter glass ceilings. 

In other news...I name dropped the Judgement Soundtrack in my last post, but I realized that many of you will not download this album, even though it is awesome. So I thought I would find a video from it and present it for you in all of its early nineties Rap-Rock glory. 

Faith No More and Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.'s song, Another Body Murdered ranks high on the meowable song scale at 5 meows of 5. And that ain't bad. However, it also led to one of the worst genres of music ever of rap-metal featuring the douchiest of bands such as Limp-Bizkit, Korn, et cetera, et cetera, ad infinitum. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the early nineties at its finest.

On Good Intentions...

I am trying to write a non-bitter and non-bile-filled post about how utterly awful the collection of musicians gathered together for the new super-single rehashing of We are the World will be. But when writing about people trying to do good things, even when it is a disastrous folly, it's a guaranteed way to sound like an instant asshole.

So here is something a little different...and considerably dated. Artists United Against Apartheid sings against well, apartheid. For those who don't remember apartheid, it was kind of like the movie District 9, but with people instead of aliens. And of course, Bono is in it.





I believe that it is a prerequisite that Bono appear in every charity video ever made. Kind of frightening when you think about it.

Meowable Song of the Day: Timebomb * Update *

My love of Beck is probably only matched by my love of hamsters.


For years, I had this vision that I would buy a pet hamster, give it a French name, and take it on walks with a little leash made of lace. I would then meet a lovely young woman who loved French-named hamsters, and we would then raise our hamster together.


Unfortunately, the lovely young woman never came along. But I did get a hamster, well three over time, all named after French philosophers. Montaigne was the first of my hamsters, a noble free roaming soul, who often escaped from his cage and found himself wandering the heating vents and nooks behind book cases seeking some kind of adventure. Simone was the loud and rabble rouser of the night. She loved to run on her on some existential quest that could never be completed. My last hamster was Julia Kristeva, and if you want to have a really mean hamster that bites you close to a dozen times, name said hamster after a Marxist Feminist. Seriously. Downright mean!


In any case, this homemade video found on the defunct Diskolito Beck page, via YouTube is fine ballance of Flash animation, hamsters, and homage to the historical videography of Beck.


The song itself ranks a 5 meows on the 5 meow meowable scale.

Edit* In the credit where credit is due department....

A new acquaintance informed me that this video was created by a Japanese Woman who goes by the name Ham. She hosts a Japanese language Beck fansite. 

Perfect Sounds...The Muppets sing Queen

Somethings just speak for themselves. And while I typically try to avoid posting viral videos, this this caught my attention.

In this presentation of Perfect Sounds, The Muppets cover Bohemian Rhapsody. While this song is a classic in its own right, it has unfortunately been sullied by Wayne's World, and countless other pop-culture uses that have taken the glory out of this epic. 

This version is a bit more "child-friendly" than the original. No guns, no death, no devil, no scaramoushing. But the tongue in cheek satire that embodied the Muppets is still there.

On my Meowable Music Scale: I give it a 5 meows out of 5.

I believe Animal and Beakers parts are my favorite. Even if you hate Queen, you have to love The Muppets. If not, you obviously are inhuman, so some type of evil automaton. 

Perfect Sounds...

I have been thinking of what my favorite songs would be if I had to make some type of playlist. When looking at my i-pod, I realized that the top 25 most played songs are not necessarily the songs I envision as sonic perfection. Of course I end up with "Hair" by Cowsills near the top and I can't quite explain it. 


Taking a cue from some other things I have strolled across recently, I decided to list somethings I am damned grateful. Today, I am grateful that I got the chance to hear this song live.


"Diamond Sea," by Sonic Youth.

My first live exposure to Sonic Youth was in the Memorial Colosseum in 1995 when they were the opening act for the nearly aborted REM Monster Tour. The drummer for REM has suffered an aneurysm a few months before, the tour was almost scrapped. I got some of the very last tickets on sale and sat in the high elevation seats wondering whether it was worth it. 

Something about this song makes me calm. Maybe it's the ten-plus minutes of droning ending with a crash of feedback; a punctuated pause of how we all want to react to the mundane.  Or maybe I get lost in the lyrics. 

I could try to explain it but it really doesn't come out in words. I have deleted this damned post three times before deciding that this song just makes my head melt and my heart kind of drift a little. 

True Portland...

So if you are a true Portlander you know that we have only one team...and it isn't the Winterhawk, Forest Dragons, Timbers, Beavers, or anything else...


In Portland, you are a Trailblazer Fan or you are a plebeian fool. Everyone loves the Blazers here. From when they are at their highest highs playing in the first round of the play-offs, to the inevitable lows when they are knocked out of competitions after three games in that first round, we still love them. We love the Blazers when they drive at high speeds bright yellow SUVs while smoking their friends smoke pot, we love then when they are not. We love the Blazers when they are out of jail, and we even love them when they fail...all too often. The businessman, the Tri-Met driver, the methed-out tweaker, to club going hipster all love the Blazers.


But nothing says that they love us as fans as they did in 1992. During this glorious year for Portland's only team, they recorded a rap song. It is important to note that 1992 is the most important year for rap music ever, a point I will elaborate upon on another post. So without much further fan fair...be prepared to experience what RIP CITY is all about...


Thus: Bust a Bucket...











Quick post script: I don't believe anyone in Portland knows where Rip City is or what Rip City really meant.