The Fun Zone: The Fun

It's two (short) CD reviews for the price of one (free)!

The Arrogant Worms: Torpid

Okay, I'm a little late with this one, and it's not Canada's fault. They sent me the CD pretty quickly. I'd say it's the fastest delivery I've experienced from a Constitutional Monarchy. At any rate, Torpid is in my grubby little hands, and I am enjoying its zany goodness. Much like the Toast album, this album was recorded in front of a live audience, so we get to hear much of the interaction with the audience between songs. In fact, the CD's producers wisely break up some of the longer bits of banter into separate tracks, so you can choose to partake (or not) of the talkety talk. I'm glad the material's there. It really reminds me of how much fun it is to see these guys in person. (And before I forget: Saturday February 28th, West Hartford, CT. Who's in?)

While it's not my favorite of the Worms' albums, not quite reaching the level of Toast or Dirt, Torpid has a lot to like about it. "Big Box Store" made me laugh the first time I heard it, as did "My Neighbor's Learning Saxophone." The highlight of the album, though, is "Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah," in the style of a 1980's era British pop band. It's the story of a guy who basically ignores his significant other, and when she leaves him, he doesn't notice for about a month. Then the song becomes a fugue for no reason. Trust me. It's funny. And it gets stuck in your head. I even got The Kid to start singing "Blah, Blah, Blah" with me on the chorus.

Overall, it's a good purchase, and a welcome return for my favorite Canadian Comedy/Folk Trio.

Logan Whitehurst and The Junior Science Club: Goodbye My 4-Track

Over the summer, while I was ordering my new Demento Society Membership Package, I decided to throw a Logan Whitehurst album into the mix. I gave the CD a once over when it arrived, but for some reason iTunes didn't want to rip it in, so it never made it into heavy iPod rotation. Once I got the new laptop, with a much-improved optical drive, I was able to finally give this album its due.

Yes, I know I could have actually listened to the CD, in the car or something, but that's not the way the kids listen to music these days. Get with the program, gramps!

Anyway, I really should have paid more attention to this one earlier, because it's brilliant. Whitehurst's music seems to me to be a cross between They Might Be Giants, Moxy Fruvous, and Jonathan Coulton. It's firmly in the novelty territory, but it sometimes has a sort of contemplative tone that Coulton likes to evoke, and "Prosthetic Brain" could easily have been a TMBG tune. I was already a fan of "Robot Cat" from the Demento albums, and "A Word From Farkle" is just rapid zany fun. "Happy Noodle vs. Sad Noodle" has been stuck in my head for days, and the hidden bonus track "Monkeys Are Bad People" is a fantastically paranoid rant from a father to son after the kid asks for a banana and the dad thinks he's harboring an evil monkey in his backpack.

Sadly, Whitehurst passed away a few years ago at a very young age, and now I realize why the Novelty community was so hard-hit by his loss. There's at least one more album out there for me to grab, Very Tiny Songs, made up of 81 tracks, none more than 90 seconds long. If the rest are anything like "The Villain Who Wears No Pants," I'm in.

Highly recommended.

It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention.

If I had been, you would have known that The Arrogant Worms released a new album on September 30th. You would know that Torpid, as it's called, is another live album, much like Toast. I also would have listened to it already by now, and you'd know how awesome (or not) it might be.

I'm sorry.

Not to fear! I've e-mailed Canada and they've agreed to send me a copy of the new CD post-haste. Of course, the exchange rate's not what it used to be, so it's not like I'm express shipping it or anything. You'll probably hear from me on this in a month or so.

That is all.

Okay, so I've got good news, and bad news:

The Good News is that "Weird Al" Yankovic has just released a new single (the first from a rumored new album), available on iTunes. It's a parody of "Whatever You Like" by T.I. It's sort of a prediction regarding what today's economic situation may do to the excesses of gangsta rap. While it's certainly not my favorite song of his, I did chuckle quite a bit.

The Bad News is that I haven't the slightest idea who T.I. is. Do the initials stand for something? Treasure Island? Terminally Ill? Maybe Stef knows. She listens to all of that "urban" stuff on her way to work. Am I really that much of a fuddy duddy? You know, in my day, "Weird Al" parodied songs that I listened to, stuff by Michael Jackson and Milli Vanilli. It's getting to the point where I have to read the liner notes just to figure out if one of Al's songs is a parody of something. 'cause it's all new to me. And while we're on the subject, will this new album actually be released in hardcopy format? I'm not so sure, with all of this downloading and digital distribution everybody keeps talking about. Frankly, I'm just not sure what to make of things today.

'scuse me, I've got to chase some kids off my lawn.

Few things can compare to the tragedy of one of the great songs of American Musical Theater being sung by an animated baby asparagus (Track 3). I can't prove it, but I think that kid is drunk.

I'm going to go in the corner and cry now.

It seems to happen later and later every year, but I finally have my grubby little mitts on Dr. Demento's Basement Tapes #16. Was it worth the wait? Maybe. While I'm always hungry for new novelty music, this year's compilation is even more uneven than before.

For those playing catch-up, the Basement Tapes are recordings given to members of The Demento Society, the fan club of wacky radio host Dr. Demento. Technically, you're not purchasing the CD. You get it as a bonus for signing up for the club, which sends out semi-periodic newsletters on the state of novelty music, but really you pay the membership fee to get the CD. That's what I do, anyway. It's a compilation of what the good Doctor believes to be the best assortment of up-and-coming new music in the genre, as well as a few gems from the archives. In the past, I've found it to be a great way to discover new talent. Last year, this was where I first found Jonathan Coulton. I now own five of his albums, and his geek-based fandom grows more powerful every day (I'd like to think that The Fun Zone had something to do with that, but I'll bet his appearance at PAX the past few years is more to blame).

So it was with great and frenzied anticipation that I ripped open my 2008 membership packet and jammed the disc into the nearest CD-accepting device. Now, I've said before that my internal test for a novelty song is the immediate need to share it with someone. That happened only once on this album, with Robert Lund's Re: Your Song About My Client Delilah, a fantastic parody of Plain White T's Hey There Delilah, complete with references to a restraining order and stalking allegations. I had to play it for Stef as soon as she got home.

As for the rest? Well, they're not bad, just not something I'm jumping for joy about. Several seem like one-joke songs (Steve Goodie's The Nascar Song, for example, or the song whose joke is told in the title, Antsy McClain & The Trailer Park Troubadours' I Was Just Flipped Off By A Silver Haired Old Lady With A 'Honk If You Love Jesus' Sticker On The Bumper Of Her Car). Others are more raunchy than they need to be, and a bunch of the parodies lack any sort of "punch." Overall, I say "Meh." I must be getting grumpy in my old age.

One final bright spot on the disc is a sort of history of novelty music by The Great Luke Ski and MC Lars called Dementia Revolution. It's a novelty rap that tracks greats like Ogden Edsel and Spike Jones all the way to JoCo and The Arrogant Worms. It wasn't a "run and share this with everybody" moment, but I did smile broadly.

If you'll pardon me, I need to go listen to Jonathan Coulton's IKEA again.

It's been a while since I mentioned my acquisition of any new music, which might give you the impression that I haven't done any acquiring. au contraire mon amigo, there has been much listening in the household. I've just been too lazy to talk about it.

Completing the Cycle

I enjoyed the start of Jonathan Coulton's year-long songwriting adventure so much that I swiftly ordered Thing-a-Week Two, Three, and Four. The first thing that told me that I had made a good decision was "Curl" on Volume Two. It's a song about curling. It's a sign. Volume Two also has the zombie/workplace anthem "re: Your Brains" that I've been raving about for more than a year. I'm still digesting the last two volumes, but "Code Monkey" (Volume Three) and "SkyMall" (Volume Four) are early favorites, as are the covers of "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions" in the final volume. The John Hodgman liner notes continue as well, including a fascinating mostly-serious anecdote about what happened when John told Jonathan that he resembled "Weird Al." It didn't go well. I feel like I'm behind the curve with Mr. Coulton, playing catch-up, but it's a rewarding struggle.

Transforming Robots Are Cool

I went on a TransFormers kick about a month ago, picking up not only the Steve Jablonsky score from last summer's TransFormers, but also the 20th Anniversary edition of the original TransFormers: The Movie Soundtrack.

What finally pushed me over the edge on the former was its use in the pre-game material for this year's SuperBowl (odd, I know). I realized that I really enjoyed some of the major themes, and that the score would be a nice addition to the library. For some reason, supply of the CD version of the score was quite short, with copies going for nearly a hundred bucks online, so I downloaded the whole album from iTunes. 17 bucks is more than I'd expect a downloaded album to cost, but compared to the alternative, I was happy to hit the purchase button.

I hesitated on the latter for some time as well. After all, I already had the major tracks on the original release. Was it worth a purchase to get the four bonus tracks? Well, yes, but not for the one that I thought. I finally picked up the CD so I could hear the original version of the main title theme, performed by Stan Bush ("Dare," "The Touch") and Vince DiCola (who wrote the rest of the score). That one track isn't really worth it. Compared with Lion's far meatier rock anthem, this original version just seems repetitive and thin. It's neat to hear, but not worth putting in heavy rotation on your music player. What may be worth it to you is the inclusion of a Unicron medley, a musical theme sorely missed in the original cut of the album.

Making Friends Who Happen To Be Rock Stars

Two of my fellow cast members in You Can't Take It With You are in a band called The Mold Monkies. Lots of people are in bands, so while I maintained a moderate level of interest in their work, it wasn't something I was actively seeking out. That is, until Nick and Russ played an acoustical set at a party. I was immensely entertained. While not overtly silly like Coulton or The Arrogant Worms, the Monkies' music is lyrically dense, musically complex, and possessive of a wry sense of humor. Nick passed me a copy of their debut album, O Brave Yet Ignorant Swine, at rehearsal last week, and it's been in heavy rotation in the iPod ever since. There are several bright spots on the album, but "Nixon's Nose" (about various covert groups trying to clone Nixon from his nose tissue) and "End of The Show" (which has a catchy melody that I just can't get out of my head) are my big favorites. I know I seem a bit biased, knowing these guys personally, but I think I'd be a fan even if I'd never met them.

Still Waiting For Rockapella

Still no word of a new Rockapella album, but that's just fine, because I picked up another album from Tonic Sol Fa, Style. There are some fun originals here, like the opener "Na, Na, Na" and a new version of "Oklahoma Wind," but I really enjoyed their versions of "Elanor Rigby," "I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow," and "Scooby Doo Where Are You?" I'd still rather see a Rockapella release, but this should keep me satisfied for now.

The Chickens Are Not Organized

Finally, it's about time that I finally got the Powell/Gregson-Williams score to Chicken Run. The Kazoos on "Building the Crate" are worth the price of admission alone.

Happy listening!

Some Time Ago, in my review of the most recent Dr. Demento Basement Tapes, I rejoiced at my discovery of Mr. Jonathan Coulton, and his zombie ballad, re: Your Brains. I declared that I would be following the output of Mr. Coulton closely, and that I would soon have more of his music in my grubby little hands.

That was last March, I believe.

It took the actions of my lovely wife, in the form of a wonderful Christmas gift, to bring me back into the JoCo fold, and I'm so glad she did. Coulton has that elusive quality that I feel is crucial for a quality novelty artist: you actually enjoy listening to him. In fact, some of his music is so catchy you barely realize that it's humor.

Smoking Monkey - This is Coulton's album from 2003, and it has a number of very strong offerings. By far, my favorite is IKEA, a love poem about everybody's favorite furniture warehouse. It's more than that, though. Coulton's scope is epic:

Long ago in days of yore,
It all began with a god named Thor.
There were vikings and boats,
And some plans for a furniture store...

...Ikea! (Ikea!)
Just some oak and some pine and a handful of Norsemen,
Ikea! (Ikea!)
Selling furniture for college kids and divorced men.
Everyone has a home,
But if you don't have a home,
You can buy one there!

He goes on to extol the virtues of meatballs and Allen wrenches and low-priced kitchen tables, and you just can't help but sing along. There are several gems here, but even stronger is my second acquisition:

Thing A Week One - In 2005, Coulton quit his job and started producing music at the rate of one song per week. This series is the output of that year: 52 tracks of oddities. Some, like See You All In Hell, or Sibling Rivalry (which appears to use samples from an ESL course), are more strange than funny, but others are just plain brilliant. Shop Vac is a lovely commentary on the banality of the suburban lifestyle, and My Monkey is one of Stef's favorites. His cover of Baby Got Back alone is worth the price of admission. As an added bonus, the cover notes are written by none other than John "I'm a PC" Hodgman, whose relationship with Coulton must go pretty far back, as one of the tracks on this disc, Furry Old Lobster, is a reference to an element of Hodgman's book, The Areas of My Expertise, or perhaps vice versa. 'tis a tangled web.

All in all, I'm feeling pretty well stocked in the novelty department. That's not to say I don't want to hear more from JoCo. Thing A Week Two is on its way as we speak.

Happy Listening!

Ever since I heard the new Chipmunk version of "Bad Day," I haven't been able to get it out of my head. It's just so dang blasted catchy! It's got a heaping helping of that tight rodent-based harmony that I just go ga-ga over. I purchased it on iTunes (along with "Funkytown" from the same album), I keep throwing it into the shuffle while I've been editing this week, and I have been seen jamming out to it in the car while waiting at stoplights. If I still had the Fun Zone Radio Show, it would be in heavy rotation. I would be spreading the joy.

So, is it really as good as I'm saying, or have the stresses of Christmas/work/impending baby driven me completely insane?

On second thought, don't answer that.

I like to go by a simple rule of thumb when evaluating whether or not to purchase an album: If I don't already know that I'll like four of the songs on the album, I shouldn't purchase it*.

However, sometimes the lure of a single track is so strong, that it overrides the rule of thumb and carries me straight to the checkout counter. That was the case with this album, the second I saw that it included:

31. DOCTOR WHO THEME (Album Version)

One of the first things that drew me in toward the new Doctor Who series was the stirring re-scoring of the classic theme (ba ba ba bum, ba ba ba bum, bum bum bum, bum bum bum, ooooooweeeeeeeoooooo.....). The version played at the start of each episode was almost cruelly brief. It was just enough time to get the heart racing with the promise of adventure, but then it ended so abruptly that I was always a bit saddened by it. The end credit recording, though, hinted at the existence of a longer version, including the B Section. And it does exist. Two and a half minutes of Doctor Who goodness. It's been playing in my head ever since.

The album's more than just one theme, though, much to my delight. It includes music from the first two seasons ("series") of the show, as well as two Christmas specials, covering Rose's entire story arc. Additional highlights include the haunting vocal "Doomsday," the subtle piano track "Rose's Theme," and the manic adventure of "Westminster Bridge." Notes from composer Murray Gold add fantastic context to each track, reminds me of all the exceptional moments from the show. The fact that it covers two seasons is of note, since most television soundtracks focus only on the first few episodes, in order to release as quickly as possible.

Overall, this collection is chock-full of Doctor Who goodness, and there's plenty to enjoy once you're done listening to the main title over and over. Highly recommended.

*The exception, of course, is when it's brand new material from an established artist that I already like. I wouldn't dream of waiting to purchase the latest Yankovic or Worms release. That would just be silly.

Those of who who have known me a while are surely aware that I'm a fan of Scandinavian Fruit Ballads. You could say I'm a bit of a connoisseur. It's a rather narrow genre, but one that contains virtual gallons of untapped music treasure. Take the work of Johann Ulm's strawberry period, for example, or the brooding chords of Georg Johanssen's "Peaches and Fjords", and who could forget Garth Brooks' concept album, Früt?

But this latest find is the grandest of them all. Have a listen, and bask in it's wondrousness.