What's Shakin' Bacon?
I am obsessed with BLTA sandwiches: bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado. I have had one for dinner three days in a row. What is this strange calling?
Bacon, as discussed previously, is the yummiest thing in the world. If you agree, may I recommend Fletcher's brand bacon. It is the Kobe Bryant of bacon.
On Sunday, "Breakfast With the Beatles" was a special "Beatles vs. Stones" show in which Chris Carter played the two bands' competing singles from the early days through to the Beatles' last proper single, "You Know My Name, Look Up the Number."
I think the show was a little bit unfair to the Stones, because so much of the Stones' best stuff happened post-Beatles. Furthermore, a lot of their best songs were not normal radio singles. Also, Chris seemed to stack the singles unfairly--instead of playing the perfectly triumphant "She's A Rainbow" he played the naff B-side, "2000 Light Years From Home."
I was lying in bed listening to that song and having one of those acid-trip moments when you fixate on one particular instrument--in this case, the maraca. I couldn't hear anything else, and it seemed to be very self-important and attention-hungry, like a baton girl at the front of a parade.
The other great thing was that the maraca was played way imperfectly, only slightly better than I might play it. The production was sloppy in general.
Where did bands get the idea they had to be perfect?
Anyway. When you listen to a Stones song and don't fixate on the maraca, it just lends this kind of sexy voodoo vibe to the proceedings. But when you fixate on it, and you can see someone's hand (Mick's?) shaking it next to a microphone, just shaking it over and over and over and over again, you realize what an incredibly dorky instrument it is.
Wow. I bet you never thought you'd have to read like three entire paragraphs devoted to maracas. I'm even getting sick of the word; it seems to stick out.
The whole point here was supposed to be Charlie Watts. Because, see, in all the press about the Stones' new record and tour and stuff, Charlie is finally emerging (to me) as a really interesting and extremely exotic bird. Your true Stones fans like your Ken Laynes, your Axels---and your drummer-geeks such as Steve Coulter---will say "Where the hell have you been?"
These sorts of guys are always going on and on about what a genius Charlie Watts is, and how he's really the "coolest" Stone and all this.
(This is such a guy thing to say. Guys are eternally standing up for the sexual underdog and shaking their heads at the stupidity of women who fall for the Obvious Sex God. I think they're onto something, actually. To generalize, lead singers are narcissists with heavy mom-issues, and rhythm players grew up with sisters or cool moms and have a more exciting attitude toward women.)
Anyway, the point is, Charlie.
I mean, you look at the guy---first of all, he's the only one who doesn't dye his hair. All the others are trying to pretend they're not completely gray. I am so sure.
You look at photos going way back, and Charlie always dressed like some 1920s banker. Completely uncool, completely unrock.
And yet he is the most erotic drummer in the history of rock.
Can you make sense of this for me?
What is his real personality like? Is he funny? Is he shy? How does he fit in emotionally with the rest of the group?
I know I should just go read some books but I want immediate gratification.
My email is heykate17@earthlink.net
Blogger won't let me post comments. Bummer.
xo
Kate
I am obsessed with BLTA sandwiches: bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado. I have had one for dinner three days in a row. What is this strange calling?
Bacon, as discussed previously, is the yummiest thing in the world. If you agree, may I recommend Fletcher's brand bacon. It is the Kobe Bryant of bacon.
On Sunday, "Breakfast With the Beatles" was a special "Beatles vs. Stones" show in which Chris Carter played the two bands' competing singles from the early days through to the Beatles' last proper single, "You Know My Name, Look Up the Number."
I think the show was a little bit unfair to the Stones, because so much of the Stones' best stuff happened post-Beatles. Furthermore, a lot of their best songs were not normal radio singles. Also, Chris seemed to stack the singles unfairly--instead of playing the perfectly triumphant "She's A Rainbow" he played the naff B-side, "2000 Light Years From Home."
I was lying in bed listening to that song and having one of those acid-trip moments when you fixate on one particular instrument--in this case, the maraca. I couldn't hear anything else, and it seemed to be very self-important and attention-hungry, like a baton girl at the front of a parade.
The other great thing was that the maraca was played way imperfectly, only slightly better than I might play it. The production was sloppy in general.
Where did bands get the idea they had to be perfect?
Anyway. When you listen to a Stones song and don't fixate on the maraca, it just lends this kind of sexy voodoo vibe to the proceedings. But when you fixate on it, and you can see someone's hand (Mick's?) shaking it next to a microphone, just shaking it over and over and over and over again, you realize what an incredibly dorky instrument it is.
Wow. I bet you never thought you'd have to read like three entire paragraphs devoted to maracas. I'm even getting sick of the word; it seems to stick out.
The whole point here was supposed to be Charlie Watts. Because, see, in all the press about the Stones' new record and tour and stuff, Charlie is finally emerging (to me) as a really interesting and extremely exotic bird. Your true Stones fans like your Ken Laynes, your Axels---and your drummer-geeks such as Steve Coulter---will say "Where the hell have you been?"
These sorts of guys are always going on and on about what a genius Charlie Watts is, and how he's really the "coolest" Stone and all this.
(This is such a guy thing to say. Guys are eternally standing up for the sexual underdog and shaking their heads at the stupidity of women who fall for the Obvious Sex God. I think they're onto something, actually. To generalize, lead singers are narcissists with heavy mom-issues, and rhythm players grew up with sisters or cool moms and have a more exciting attitude toward women.)
Anyway, the point is, Charlie.
I mean, you look at the guy---first of all, he's the only one who doesn't dye his hair. All the others are trying to pretend they're not completely gray. I am so sure.
You look at photos going way back, and Charlie always dressed like some 1920s banker. Completely uncool, completely unrock.
And yet he is the most erotic drummer in the history of rock.
Can you make sense of this for me?
What is his real personality like? Is he funny? Is he shy? How does he fit in emotionally with the rest of the group?
I know I should just go read some books but I want immediate gratification.
My email is heykate17@earthlink.net
Blogger won't let me post comments. Bummer.
xo
Kate
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