The Music Contest Thickens

A few days ago, The Almighty Yojo announced The First Annual G:TB Song Contest. The Yojo provided a song and some lyrics to get the entrants started, and challenged someone out there in the G:TB Universe to do a better job covering his creation.

A few people asked The Yojo if he could provide a guitar track of the song without the Yojo's unadorned and rather raw vocals. When The Yojo is asked, The Yojo provides. Here is a scratch track, not only with guitar, but also some drums and bass. Click on the link, and you can download it as an MP3 and then load it into Garage Band or some similar program and sing along. Good luck and have fun.

Monks and Naked Ladies No Vocals by The Density

Here is the unusual thing. The people who expressed interest in the song were Rob and Squeaky. The person who did NOT express interest in the song was The Almighty Yojo's old bandmate, Whitney. Nor has Whitney used the microphone that The Almighty Yojo sent him several months ago in the mail. The Almighty Yojo is afraid that this has become more than a Song Contest. It has become a digital audition.

The Almighty Yojo is certainly flexible. In fact, he'll let anyone willing into his band. Especially if that person can sing. He is also aware that digital technology makes it possible to have a virtual band. We are not constrained by distance. In fact, he's been pestering Whitney to pursue this for years. But to no avail.

How will this turn out? Will Rob or Squeaky be the Sammy Hagar to Whitney Lee Roth? Stay tuned to Music Season to find out.

Music Month Continues: Sometimes There's A Man . . .

The Almighty Yojo has whipped up another collage of sound for your listening enjoyment, and if you're not careful, you might learn something (that's actually not true). This song was inspired by a man named Percy Harrison Fawcett-- and when I use the word "man" in reference to him, I am referring to his character, not his gender. Do not be fooled by his rather soft-sounding name (we might say the same about G:TB contributor Whitney . . . but we might not). Percy had some serious testosterone coursing through his body; just take a look at his mustache.

I learned about Fawcett's adventures while reading a book called The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon Forest. I highly recommend the book, but it will make you feel like a pansy (except for Iron-man Danimal). Fawcett spent a large portion of his life traipsing into uncharted reaches of the Amazon, confronting hostile cannibals while searching for lost cities and treasure. Most of the men who accompanied him died, and he eventually vanished in somewhere in the jungle, never to be heard from again.

This raises the question: what does it mean to be a man? While most of us aren't as profoundly macho as Percy Fawcett, there does seem to be a vein of bravado that runs through all of us men; though each man's particular expression of machismo occupies a different spot on the masculinity continuum-- whether it be the epic adventures of Christopher McCandless (Into the Wild) or the mundane daring of Tony Hawks (Round Ireland with a Fridge) or even the quest for "More Power!" of Tim "The Toolman" Taylor.

But there does seem to be a common thread among these various endeavors: women generally don't do shit like this.

There are exceptions, of course-- the book The Wilder Shores of love: The Exotic True-Life Stories of Isabel Burton, Aimee Dubucq de Rivery, Jane Digby, and Isabell Eberhardt recounts the lives of four rather macho and adventurous women-- but I think in this case the exception proves the rule: it's hard to find women this cavalier.

The manly streak that unites us doesn't seem to be particularly advantageous to our survival; in fact, the war, violence, fighting, stunts, piracy, gambling, crime, gluttony, substance abuse, hazing, and generally retarded behavior that men participate in every day is certainly detrimental to living a long and stable life on planet earth . . . but maybe machismo, like the peacock's tail, helps with sexual selection . . . in other words, if these behaviors don't kill us, they might impress some woman-- she might consider such excessively stupid behavior as a sign of virility and thus allow us access to what Laertes refers to as his sister Ophelia's "chaste treasure."

But I doubt it. The truth is this: there's something wrong with men, and this song celebrates it.

Sometimes There's A Man by The Density

Thanks to all my colleagues for contributing words of wisdom-- especially Stacy, who had a lot to say on this subject, perhaps because she dates the manliest of men: Ed.

Thanks also to Al Pacino, Mr. T, The Dude, Mickey Rourke, Sylvester Stallone, Sterling Hayden, Kevin Costner, Cheech Marin, Will Ferrell, Mark McKinney, and Kevin Spacey.

Sometimes There's A Man

What does it mean to be a man? Does anybody know?
Do you have to walk in the jungle all alone?

Do you have to frequent prostitutes? Drink cheap beer until you puke?
Baby . . . I think so . . .

What does it mean to be a man? Does anybody know?
Do you have to heft a rock to throw?

Do you have to bet it all on the river card? Get in a bar fight to prove you’re hard?
Do you need hair up and down your back? Grow a beard like a lumberjack?
Do you have to build a shed behind your house? Repeatedly cheat on your spouse?
Do you have to mastermind a genocide? Kill a bunch of people in the country side?
Do you have prove yourself on the football field? Travel to the Yukon to club a seal?
Buy a gold-plated Rolex watch? Grab your balls and adjust your crotch?
Do you have to buy a gun and hunt big game? Get real drunk and feel ashamed?
Swear you’ll never do it again . . . get up the next day and repeat the same.
Do you have to build an atomic bomb? Seek revenge like in Wrath of Khan?
Do you need to disarm an IED? Urinate behind a tree?
Baby . . . I think so.

Where did it go? Where has it gone?

You're feeling so low. Your essence is gone.

What does it mean to be a man? Does anybody know?

Do you have to kill the whole pigeon flock? Merge the company, buy the stock?
Kill the guards with a stolen Glock? Learn to lay a piece by Bach?
Escape from chains by picking a lock? Put your wedding ring in hock?
Laugh real hard at Red Foxx and his dummy son Lamont . . .
Baby . . . I think so . . .

A few rabid fans asked me if I could include the best lyric that didn't make the cut, and I'm happy to oblige them:

Do you have to write a thick book like Norman Mailer?
Or step into a pitch just like Don Baylor?

P.S. I am hoping that Zman writes a sequel to this post, where he actually creates a "masculinity continuum" graphic.

If you tackle this, Zman, I would like to request plot points for the following: 1) ledge diving 2) completing the Iron Man triathlon 3) Tabasco shots 4) streaking 5) tearing down a fence 6) ripping out a stump 7) eating "the grande" at La Tolteca.