So this is how they do it.
You Decide. But Not Really…
A propos of nothing.
I Dare You To Pick This Song For Karaoke
God, this song is awful, but I can’t resist it. Sadly, at this point in my life Afternoon Delight is a bowl and a cold beer.
A “Modern Spiritual”
No comment, just putting it out there.
Are The Beatles “Classical?”
An interesting perspective from an excellent classical music critic.
Sludgefest
A few years ago, a Canadian musician slowed down a few Chipmunks songs to 16 RPM, and it’s kind of awesome. The singing is pretty good, and at that speed, it’s all gothy and moody. Like you have anything better to do today.
0:00 Call Me
6:12 Walk Like An Egyptian
13:00 Heaven Is A Place On Earth
20:58 Diamond Dolls
27:17 You Keep Me Hanging On
35:28 My Sharona
43:25 Always On My Mind
50:13 Refugee
What Are They Dancing To?
Here’s a Scopitone of Brook Benton lip-syncing Mother Nature, Father Time while bikini girls apparently dance to something else.
If you’re unfamiliar with Scopitones, they were music video jukeboxes typically placed in lounges and similar adult-oriented locations. It seems that most Scopitones, like the later music-video format, were more about the girls than the songs. (I remember child-oriented ones, but their format and machines had a different name). The videos often had the hubba-hubba vibe of 50’s-60’s softcore men’s magazines (like here and here). Although Procol Harum did one, most rock acts snubbed Scopitones. I imagine they’d started looking dated, like something their dads watched for cheap thrills, down there with carnival peep-shows. One novelty was a live Billy Lee Riley one, unusual in that it’s not lip-synced.
For you film nerds: I can’t verify this, but I know I read somewhere that French (who invented them) Scopitones used Pathecolor, a very early film tinting process that used stenciling. Wikipedia claims that the last use of Pathecolor was the 1954 Mexican surrealist classic, Robinson Crusoe, but it’s often stated that it was used in that august cinematic masterpiece, Dr. Goldfoot & The Bikini Machine.
You Make A Grown Man Cry . . .
. . . for obvious reasons.