Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: paul simon

Pleasant Distractions

Yeah, sure, the speech is almost over, but let’s pretend I was actually a helpful person and posted this a few hours ago.

How about one of the first great mock-rock-docs, The Last Polka, starring Eugene Levy and the deeply-missed John Candy?

Or how about a deep dive into the history of everyone’s favorite 70’s sound, the Fender Rhodes? If you’re unfamiliar with the name, you’ll certainly recognize the timbre: it’s the keyboard that sounds like shag carpeting. Jeff Chimenti’s playing one here in this picture:

And a fellow named Barry Beckett is playing one on this Paul Simon number you surely know:

Nice mustache, asshole.

I’ve Reason To Believe

An offering and some news:

Willie Nelson is awesome, but there’s no version without Paul Simon. Just ignore the Jew and concentrate on the Texan.

Also: images are now enabled in the Comment Section, and there’s a new e-mail notification plug-in. You might have to sign up again, and you can do so in the sidebar.

Crazy Like A Fox

Evidencifications part the 24th in the case against Edie Brickell and that one of the wives who wasn’t Mountain Girl (her name is Mahna-mahna or something) was correct in thinking this lady was on the make.

This is from Brickell’s Wikipedia page, about the first time she met her husband-to-be, Paul Simon.

“Even though I’d performed the song hundreds of times in clubs, he made me forget how the song went when I looked at him,” she said with a smile.

She said this about Paul Simon. Paul Simon looks like he should be demanding gold under bridges, only to be ignored: this man resembles an ineffectual troll. In a hair hat.

You think she does that hippie chick scat-improv thing when she does it?

Twiddley squeeee,

Dod diddly num.

You know what my

butt needs? Your thumb.

Jesus, man. It’s Father’s Day.

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