Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: jimmy cliff

Many Black Muddy Rivers To Cross

It is not sacrilegious to say that Jimmy Cliff sings Fire on the Mountain better than Garcia did; Jimmy Cliff sings everything better than everyone.

But I Know My Faith Will Lead Me Home


Sure, Garcia did it, but Jimmy Cliff’s version is better. Jimmy Cliff’s version is always better.

Where do we go from here? Where do we go now?

You Can Fool Some Of The Lions Some Of The Time…

I know I’ve posted this before, but a song this good should be played on repeat: there’s no better way to start a Saturday than with Jimmy Cliff teaching us the Jamaican version of “don’t poke the bear.”

Listen to this four or five times, hot rail a few lines of Folgers, and tackle a mailman.

And Featuring Peter O’Toole

Don’t hold with crackers in a field? How about rastas on an island?

Plain As Black And White

bobby black guys

“Guys, when I stop the car–and I am totally not kidding about this–let me talk to the cops.”


Bobby asked the lady if she was Pigpen’s girlfriend. She was a bit confused and a tad offended; after being reminded that Pig had been dead for around a decade, Bobby was sad.


“I heard your song Estimated Prophet. Bobby, why do you play reggae wrong?


Attempting at humor, Bobby referred to himself as “Highly Selassie” and, you know: that’s their religion, so they got pissed and started goofing on him in a language that was still technically English, but no white guy from Mill Valley could ever comprehend.

(Side note: how sincere are Rastafarians? Not Chad with the dreads who goes home every other weekend to do his laundry, real Jamaican dudes. You know who I’m talking about: 5% body fat, holding a machete? I always figured they were at least 30 percent just making it up as they went, and clearly aware of the fact.)


“Please don’t let Billy show up. Please don’t let Billy show up.”

%d bloggers like this: