Amid all of this Gheorghemas good cheer -- and we did enjoy Day 5 and its upswing of Tribe-related positivity -- we have a new song to share from the minds that brought you:
I highlight those songs beyond the rest of the mess because (a) they're brilliant, but moreso (b) because they are tributes to friends of ours who have tragically fallen by the wayside.
Okay, technically, the third one simply references Ozzy Osbourne in the title, who died this year, and the protagonist in the song is at the end of their life. But it's a fun song and hasn't been dredged up in a while.
And yes, I know, Dr. Seuss was not technically our "friend," but he shared a birthday with Dave, and Dave celebrates with the good doctor every year, and Theodor Geisel's passing sparked one of the true mountaintops of the Random Idiots range when we musically memorialized him... sort of.
Anyway, Dave and I, as Random Idiots in name and behavior, have had a habit of writing and recording songs about our actual friends who have died. And goddammit, we really had a bad run of losing friends early on in life. First Evan on a motorcycle in the summer of 2001, then Lud and Scoop two months later in 9/11. Flynn went in '06, and Johnny in 2021. There were others along the way.
And our tribute tunes, in a way, help keep their spirits alive.
Lots of happenings at the Alma Mater of a Nation this Gheorghemas, from things sporting to real estate to expanding the horizons and parameters of the youth, and we're here to bring cover them all.
Tribe men's hoops is off to its best start since 2009-10. Brian Earl's balanced squad (seven different players have topped the team in scoring in its ten games, while six have grabbed the most boards) won six in a row to get to 8-2, rising to a program all-time high of 51 in the NCAA's NET ratings before falling at George Washington in the last game before the break for exams. The Wrens take the court tomorrow at home against Radford in their last non-conference tilt, still a Quad I team.
Not to be overshadowed, the Tribe women's hoops squad backed up its program-first NCAA Tournament appearance with a win at Wake Forest to kick off a four-game winning streak and move to 5-4. Junior Cassidy Geddes guard leads W&M with 14.8 points per game.
We're pleased to see that all around good guy and longest-serving athletic director in W&M history Terry Driscoll is being inducted into the Virginia Sports Hall of Fame next April. Former CAA Commissioner Tom Yeager said this of Driscoll, “He was the moral compass of our conference — a quiet leader whose wisdom and perspective shaped college athletics for the better.” Our only regret is that he didn't stay in his job for a few more years and kept Tony Shaver in his.
In off-field, but different sort of field-related news, how'd you like to hear about a mutually beneficial land swap? According to W&M News, the school and the city have agreed to trade parcels near South College Woods. Sean Hughes, W&M's Chief Business Officer said, “It’s a pristine research site, and it’s important for us to protect the boundaries of this ecological preserve in South College Woods. The City of Williamsburg has been an excellent partner, and the university appreciates the City Council and the city manager’s willingness to work together with us on a solution The agreement is especially fitting as William & Mary approaches the culmination of its Year of the Environment celebration.”
We're working on swapping some blogspace for Unit M so we can have a retirement home for frat guys who need a little getaway space.
And finally, W&M is excellent in a lot of arenas. In addition to leading the internet in dipshittery, we're the number one public university in the nation for study abroad participation for the 12th time in the past 17 years. In 2023-24, 55% of W&M students studied abroad at some point in their academic career. Tribe members, nerdy, wordy and worldly.
“There is no ‘secular’ molecule in the universe. There is no dandelion owned by the devil," says David Dark, professor of religion at Belmont University and author of “Everyday Apocalypse: Art, Empire, and the End of the World.”
The topic Dark was discussing is the DJ stylings of Rev. Guilherme Peixoto, a Portuguese priest who's made a ministry of blending techno with religious hymns and been so successful at it that he's attracted the attention of Pope Leo.
As we eagerly await Day Five of Gheorghemas, that most profanely sacred celebration, it's good to be reminded that there's beauty and grace everywhere. Except the White House.
One hundred ten years ago on this date, Italian immigrants Antonino Martino "Marty" Sinatra and Natalia "Dolly" Garavente welcomed their only child into their adopted hometown of Hoboken, N.J. Francis Albert Sinatra, through talent and force of will fashioned an enormous life that almost pales in its telling.
Sinatra was one of the most influential figures of the 20th century, a giant in music and style whose work spanned generations and will endure well into the future. He was gifted, smart, genial and gracious. He was also petty, vindictive, combative and temperamental. He sang achingly beautiful ballads and jaunty, swinging melodies. He was married four times and fathered three children. His boozing and carousing were the stuff of legend. His ties to the Mob were never far from the surface.
Some view him as a genius, others as a thug with a voice.
After he died on May 14, 1998, many of the obituaries included his remark, “Being an eighteen-karat manic-depressive and having lived a life of violent emotional contradictions, I have perhaps an overacute capacity for sadness and elation.”
There are dozens of Sinatra biographies, ranging from shallow, warmed over accounts and glorified discographies to insider tales from family and associates to deep dives from reporters and journalists. Noted biographer James Kaplan produced maybe the most comprehensive, even-handed treatment, a two-volume set titled “The Voice” and “The Chairman,” each checking in at more than 800 pages.
One interesting look at Sinatra is “Why Sinatra Matters” by longtime New York newspaper columnist and author Pete Hamill. The two were friendly – Hamill clarifies that they were not friends, they enjoyed each other’s company – and Sinatra discussed having Hamill write his biography, though it never came to pass. But they spent many hours together, and Hamill’s book, a comparatively thin work that's still rich in descriptions and memories, weaves Sinatra’s personal story with the nation’s immigrant and cultural stories. Hamill writes that he didn’t intend to produce anything like a definitive biography, more a snapshot of the man and his times.
Sinatra had at least three stages in his career. First, as a young, skinny Big Band crooner in the 1930s and ‘40s. The second, after a career lull following World War II and into the early ‘50s, saw him become a more mature singer and craftsman and even actor (he won an Oscar for a supporting role in the WW2-themed film “From Here to Eternity") and embodied cool with his Las Vegas residency and Rat Pack association.
Third, as a kind of elder statesman of old school popular music after rock ‘n roll marginalized his preferred form.
Sinatra’s catalog continues to be mined and refined. For example, the famous jazz label Blue Note Records recently remastered and released the groundbreaking album “In The Wee Small Hours,” to mark the 70th anniversary of its initial release in 1955. It’s considered a masterpiece of lost love and heartbreak, and was one of the first “concept” albums, a collection of themed songs rather than a group of singles.
He founded Reprise Records in the early 1960s as a label that would give artists greater freedom over their work, in response to what he felt was at-times stifling control at Capitol and other record companies. That effort earned him the nickname “Chairman of the Board,” bestowed on him by well known New York DJ William B. Williams.
The music sales tracking site Chartmasters said last month that Sinatra has sold more than 50 million albums worldwide, and his songs have been streamed on Spotify more than six million times. The satellite music channel Siriusly Sinatra (Ch. 70) is a staple on Sirius XM radio.
Give Hamill the last word: “His turbulent personality, often overshadowed by notoriety, seemed inseparable from the style and originality of his art and gave him an essential place on the public stage of the American century. Now Sinatra is gone, taking with him all his anger, cruelty, generosity, and personal style. The music remains. In times to come, that music will continue to matter, whatever happens to our evolving popular culture. The world of my grandchildren will not listen to Sinatra in the way four generations of Americans have listened to him. But high art always survives. Long after his death, Charlie Parker still plays his version of the urban blues. Billie Holiday still whispers her anguish. Mozart still erupts in joy. Every day, in cities and towns all over the planet, someone discovers them for the first time and finds in their art the mysterious quality that makes the listener more human. In their work all great artists help transcend the solitude of individuals; they relieve the ache of loneliness; they supply a partial response to the urging of writer E.M. Forster: ‘Only connect.’ In their ultimate triumph over the banality of death, such artists continue to matter. So will Frank Sinatra.”
This one's been making the rounds, so some of you may have seen it. But I'm making it my mission to spread it as widely as possible, because a) it features two of my favorite comedic personalities, and b) it's an amazing view into how the minds of some very funny people work. Do enjoy before the Gheorghemas festivities resume tomorrow.
On the third day of Gheorghemas, Big Gheorge gave to me....
Three beauties, my kids. He also threw me a curve ball w/the following formatting - go ahead, let me have it. I'm here for it. Did this in Word and brought it over here, unsuccessfully. Feel free editors, to do your thing.
Haven’t talked about the kiddos here absent my son when he
was on his swim path. As of July, we’ve three teens in the house, two gals –
Grace & Mikayla at 15 & 13; and our boy Declan, 17. Interesting times!
The girls, well, have a hate/hate relationship. Or at least
the eldest does. The day we brought Grace’s new sister home, her world and
disposition changed within about two minutes. She was precocious, really funny,
emotive. She’s still pretty funny but it’s of the dry, cynical kind. Emotive
has been replaced with stoic. Gracey was a pseudo preemie – about a month early
and weighing about 3 ½ lbs. Teeny little thing who has always been smaller than
her peers, and by 8 or 9, slighter than her sis.
She followed her brother into the pool at the age of 7’ish.
She was decent, slightly above average and pretty tough, gritty and very
disciplined. Missing practice wasn’t/isn’t an option for her. From the age of
12 into her 14th year, her progress lagged as compared to her peers.
Very little growth physically, so as she watched her mates develop while
improving consistently meet after meet, she’d only experience marginal gains,
and only rarely. Experiencing stalls in swim is not only common, but a
certainty. Stalls like this one, well, that’ll get you down. Throw in the fact
that her younger sis shined and shined early, double whammy. It was a tough
time for her and us.
To her credit, she gutted it out for too many miserable
months before eventually emerging from the drought of all droughts. A bit of a
growth spurt, added strength from the dry land sessions, and that grit I
mentioned helped her realize an amazing frosh season where she qualified for Districts
and then Regionals (which was a stretch to do so) and States (never said it out
loud, but based on her times, it was very, very, very unlikely). She not only
made it, she qualified for the 500 B Finals (Top 16) as the 13th
seed and finished with the 7th fastest time. In betting parlance,
the odds on this would have been 40 or 50 to 1. Add a 4th consecutive State title
AND “Rookie of the Year” and you get a giddy Grace. One of my favorite pics...several years ago while attending ND vs VaTech, hence the orange pom pom.
Her sis, a bit different. Naturally sweet, kind, big smile.
Similar to her brother, she had the physical attributes that would come in
handy. Unlike her brother and until recently, she could give 2 F’s whether she
went to practice. A few years back, she’d sometimes cry on her way to
practice at which point we said, “okay, you’re done”. I won’t lie, that really
bothered me. What’s the line from The Bronx Tale – “there’s nothing worse than
wasted talent”? A natural and with the
swim bod to go with it – legs up to her neck, tall and lean, big feet, long
arms. Given her social proclivities, she missed it. Hanging with her peeps is
what lured her to practice as it was. The alternative for her was to pick up
something else whether an instrument or another sport, and until that time, her
mom would assign her chores while her friends were in the pool. Fancy that. She
saw the light and returned.
As I figured, she quickly excelled, and so did her desire
to race, to compete, to bring home hardware. With multiple top 20 times in the
state across various events, including 5th in the 200M breast
(top 100 in US), ambivalence be gone but maintaining that sweetness. Here she is outpacing her fam during a hike in Acadia...
The D-man. You might remember his exploits from a very
young age. He was swimming with the big kids year-round at 8. One of 4, 8-year
old boys that year to qualify for FL’s Age Group Champs (FLAGS). Between the ages of 9-12, he took home the
high-point award once and if memory serves, was never outside the top 5. At
thirteen his thirst began to wane. Bored, tired, burned out plus the added high
school workload which he took seriously – the writing was on the wall.
Fast forward to the end of his freshman high school season
where his squad took home the State Championship. He missed qualifying by 1 spot
for each of his two events. He took a small break, considered packing it in, but
committed to one more year of club & high school swim. He had a couple of club
team goals but what he really wanted was to make and contribute to a second
consecutive State title for his boys’ team team. He did just that, qualifying for A Finals in both 50 Free and 100 fly. He knew that was going to
be his last race (fly). We were pretty sure, but not 100%. Seeded 8th
out of 8 in the heat, winning or placing wasn’t in the cards – a 3rd
place would have required a big drop, seconds vs fractions of a second. He
finished 5th while breaking his high school record. He also swam the
fly leg on one relay, and free in another where his team took the top spot in
each, as well as that State Title. Given how his and their season ended, we thought
he might reconsider.
Not only did he not reconsider, he did an about face and began
working out with the football team the following summer before his junior year.
He practically moved into the gym and not thinking it was possible, started
eating more. A lot more. Between his first day as a sophomore and first day as
a junior, he gained roughly 40 pounds. He added another 30 for his senior year –
240 L B’s.
He played sparingly as a junior – special teams and
occasionally as a blocking back or tight end. But he worked his ass off throughout
the season and through the following spring and summer. He moved about position
wise, kind of a utility guy but mostly as a tight end and H-Back/fullback, but
solely as a blocker. Up until his last three games, he was in on 60-70% of the
snaps depending on the package they were running. For the last four games of
their season, including two playoff games, he started at right guard and was
selected as captain for 2 of those games. Their season ended in the 2nd
round of playoffs a couple of weeks ago. He’s had a couple of small schools
reach out, but he’s ready to be a college kid without the commitments. And I’m
here for it. A pic of the Captains as they head out to midfield prior to their first playoff game. He's 65. (0 going to Okla; 3 to Ga Southern - studs)
It’s still early days for these three, but could not be prouder
of who they are as people.
Kind contributors in school, at home and socially. Love these little effers.
This most festive of periods is an opportunity for us to turn inward, towards family and friends and away from, as George Will called it today, "a sickening moral slum of an administration" and all it's wrought. (Look at me quoting George Will. That was *not* on our Bingo card.)
And while that's tempting, before we look on the bright side of life, we're gonna shine leaven it with some bullshit. Forthwith, the rants of the season.
By dint of my position as a leader of one of the DMV's largest youth soccer clubs, I had the occasion today to participate in an event our Club hosted celebrating a very cool organization that helps kids from underserved communities have access to organized soccer programs. I won't mention the organization by name, 'cause they wouldn't want to be associated with the next thing I'm going to say.
The World Cup draw takes place at the Kennedy Center in D.C. on Friday. Because of that, there are a number of FIFA officials in and around the region, and two of them attended the event at our Club. Ostensibly, part of FIFA's mission is to spread the game around the world, and the fellas I met today were lovely and gracious.
Unfortunately, where FIFA spreads the game, corruption and graft usually follow. Since our nation's leadership has become synonymous with those evils, it's natural that FIFA's greed-feathered flock has come together with it. To wit, the world's soccer governing body plans to award a first of it's kind FIFA Peace Prize during the draw ceremony.
Per FIFA, the new award will be presented each year to a person who has "taken exceptional and extraordinary actions for peace" and "united people across the world." The notoriously thirsty President* of our country will be in attendance at the ceremony, and FIFA President Gianni Infantino has repeatedly sucked up to him in shameless ways. Y'all, Trump's getting the prize.
Consider this G:TB's official renunciation of Gianni Infantino and FIFA's leadership**. I only wish he would've been at our event today so I could offer that sentiment in person.
** To be clear, I'm still a sucker for the World Cup, and I'll watch as much of it as I can. I just won't give one red cent to FIFA to do it.
Onward to our next topic.
Rutger Bregman is a Dutch historian and loud critic of the corruption of the modern world economy. His online presence is worth seeking out - he's smart, clear in his thinking, and unsparing in his commentary. Too unsparing for the BBC, it seems.
During a recent radio address he gave as part of Radio 4's annual Reith Lectures series, Bregman said, "Our elites live-streamed the fire and monetised the smoke. Immorality and unseriousness: those are the two defining traits of our leaders today. And they’re not accidental flaws, but the logical outcome of what I call the survival of the shameless. Today, it’s not the most capable who rise, but the least scrupulous.”
All worth noting, but the BBC cut out a sentence from Bregman's lecture out of what must only be a fear of consequence. The remarks included Bregman's assertion that Donald Trump is "the most openly corrupt president in American history”. Only the listeners didn't hear that part.
And finally, one more grievance before we get to the good stuff.
Garrett Graff is a terrific writer. I'm working on his oral history of The Manhattan Project, "The Devil Reached Towards the Sky", courtesy of the OBX Dave Book Club. His blog, Doomsday Scenario, is a well reported, and more than frequently depressing summation of current events.
He recently posted a piece on the checks and balances implied in our system, and how they're failing us at the moment. The nut sentence: "Once you elect or appoint someone who has no moral core — who then appoints people with no moral core and fires those who do — nothing else in the system of checks-and-balances turns out to matter."
I mean, if you put it that way.
Okay, you've made it this far. Now you get some treats!
FIFA may combine football with fraud, but kids who get to meet their heroes don't care one bit about that. Check out USWNT captain Lindsey Heaps with an overwhelmed admirer after this week's friendly against Italy:
This is what it’s all about ❤️
🎥 @uswnt.ussoccer.com
Legendary playwright, author, and screenwriter Tom Stoppard passed away last week. Amidst the outpouring of plaudits for his work, a single letter to the editor stood out and outlined one of the untold ways art has real-world impacts.
The letter, written to the Times of London by Michael Baum (Professor emeritus of surgery; visiting professor of medical humanities, University College London), explained how Stoppard's play Arcadia inspired a cancer research breakthrough:
Someday, hopefully far into the future, I'd appreciate if one of you could pen a similar message to the Loudoun Times-Mirror about G:TB's impact on humanity.
And finally, hope y'all enjoy some comedy with your farce. Deep into a thoroughly-reported ESPN story about Lane Kiffin's departure from Ole Miss for LSU, comes this:
Bodacious Ignatius, it turns out, is more than just a pretty name. The 8th-grader can play some hardball - apparently he's a pretty decent little second-baseman. So while this is the first time you will have heard of him, we're betting it's not the last.
(Much) earlier today in Gopeng, Malaysia, the opening ceremonies for the 2025 International Rafting Federation (IRF) World brought together more than 75 competitors from 20 countries. Teams in four categories (Youth, Junior, Open, and Masters (40+) will compete over the next week in four different disciplines (Sprint, Head to Head, Slalom, and Downriver) to crown champions. And among the competitors are three FOG:TB from Truckee, CA.
Our guy (and my distant cousin) Christopher Old made a living as a whitewater rafting guide on the Gauley River in West Virginia, the Biobio River in Chile, and at a couple of rivers in Northern California for the first decade or more after we graduated from William & Mary. He met his wife on one of his trips in Chile, and they've raised three outdoorsy kids in the Sierras.
Turns out he didn't give up his affinity for fast water, as he was named to the U.S. Men's Master's team for the World Championships. To boot, his teenaged twins took their place on each of the Boys' and Girls' Junior boats. It's a family affair on the Kampar River this week, and a hell of a cool story for the extended Gheorghieverse.
Keep your dial right here for race results and photos over the coming week.
Our closest local friends, non-Marls edition, have a kid named Rory who goes to the University of Pittsburgh. They were a theater kid in high school and love to perform. Pretty good recipe for a lead singer, as it turns out. Rory's band, Straight Decline, just released an EP entitled Mid-Semester Crisis. Here's the first single, "There Are No Mathematical Jokes, Only Mathematical Punchlines (Calculus Song)". If you like Midwestern Emo, you'll enjoy.
And here they are performing a live set at The New Low in Pittsburgh:
It's not often that the local news is a purveyor of punk rock history, but I suppose stranger things have happened. Hell, just look around.
Last night on DC's NBC affiliate, reporter Mark Segraves gave us this story about the forthcoming release of two long-lost Bad Brains live shows from The Bayou in the early 80s.
I did not see that coming, but it's a uniquely local story about one of the pioneering bands of the punk era, and it's got some amazing footage of Bad Brains frontman jumping from the balcony of that late, legendary venue.
Fully expect Mr. KQ to jump into the comments and let us know he was at one of the shows that comprise the new release, which will drop Friday on National Record Store Day. Get some.
The FIFA men's World Cup has expanded to 48 teams for next year's event in the U.S., Mexico, and Canada. Don't overthink it: as the great Georgio Chinaglia was wont to say, it's the money, you moron.
I think it'll be bad for the event, at least in the early stages. More mediocre teams against the world's top sides means more lopsided results. It's a bit reminiscent of the women's version in 2019, when the U.S. memorably pasted an overmatched Thailand by a 13-0 tally. I don't know if Germany will drop a baker's dozen on New Caledonia, but I also don't think I'd care to watch that match.
The silver lining to FIFA's greed-grab (or, more simply said, FIFA) is that we get more celebrations as teams unaccustomed to the World Cup stage qualify for the event for the first time, or the first time in decades.
And so I give you celebration this fine morning:
Cape Verde qualified out of Africa, the first time the Blue Sharks have ever made the big bracket.
Ireland trailed Hungary heading into stoppage time, then scored twice to keep their hopes alive. Go to the 4:00 mark to see Troy Parrott's third goal of the game, the one that means the Irish qualify for the UEFA knockout round.
Cape Verde set a record as the smallest nation to ever qualify for the World Cup. And then Curacao beat it. The island nation has a population of 155,000, or roughly one third of that of my county. I'm putting a squad together for 2030.
Scotland and Denmark were knotted at two late in their match, with the Scots needing a win to clinch qualification. See the video at 18:51 for Kieran Tierney's go-ahead goal and 21:50 for Kenny McLain's clincher from midfield.
And finally, no nation had to overcome more than Haiti, who haven't played in a World Cup since 1974 and weren't permitted to host any qualifying matches due to unrest at home. They went ahead and qualified anyway.
A recurrence of a segment! Other than Dave's parody, that is. I do have a number of these truncated albums stored as Spotify playlists, but they each need a bit of backstory. (If only someone would abridge Whitney's backstory like he does the music...) So let's dig into the next one.
Artist: Fleetwood Mac
Album: Tusk
Released: October 12, 1979
Length: 1 hour, 14 minutes
Vinyl Discs: 2
Backstory: By now, the saga of Fleetwood Mac is well-worn, overly-trod ground. But what a story is theirs! It really has it all... short of a murder, perhaps.
On the surface, the Mac story is simply:
Blues band forms in London in '67
Named after drummer Mick Fleetwood and bassist John McVie
The orig
Some records, some repute, a couple of surprise hits
Founder/leader Peter Green departs three years later
Blues no longer, pop all the way
Additions, subtractions; Bob Welch and Mac's wife sustain them
Some records, some repute, a couple of pop hits
More lineup changes and disarray, until...
Lindsey and Stevie join the band in 1975!
The rest is pop history.
Oh, wait. That's when it got really crazy. Chart-toppers, international stardom, millions upon millions of dollars, cocaine, drama, bad breakups within the two intra-band couples, cocaine, in-fighting, resignations, expulsions, cocaine, affairs within and without the band, time off, comebacks, everyone banging everyone, and cocaine. And that's the tip of the iceberg.
One year ago, Apple Original Films announced that there was a Fleetwood Mac documentary in development. One of those "definitive" ones. Seminal. All that. [Not a single piece of news on that rock doc in the year since. Oh well. My guess is that the loony Mac-ers make any such endeavor... difficult. ] But we shall see. Until then, you have this.
One story about Fleetwood Mac:
2 weeks into their 1973 tour, the band found out that guitarist Bob Weston was sleeping with Mick Fleetwood's wife Jenny Boyd.
Jenny Boyd's sister is Pattie Boyd, George Harrison's former wife. George wrote "Something" and other songs about her.
...but Eric Clapton, one of his best friends, was in love with her and wrote "Layla" about her.
She eventually left the Quiet Beatle for Slowhand, and he wrote "Wonderful Tonight" about her.
Can anyone claim to have more rock hits written about them? What a muse.
The '73 US tour was immediately cancelled whilst in Lincoln, NE. And it wasn't just that Weston was sacked; the band was done. With a couple of dozen tour dates unfulfilled.
Then... amazingly... Mac manager Clifford Davis "claimed that he owned the name 'Fleetwood Mac' and the right to choose the band members." And so he threw together a band of randos to go out and play Fleetwood Mac songs at those shows.
That lawsuit debacle gave them time to clear their heads and forced them to relocate to California. Which led to the intro of Mick Fleetwood and Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks... as highlighted in the music doc Sound City. Reviewed expertly here.
Another story about Fleetwood Mac:
During this Tusk era, the band was partying so hard that when Christine McVie started dating Beach Boy Dennis Wilson -- a partier legendary on this plant and maybe several others -- those close to Wilson later said that the extreme coke life that FMac had going on trampolined him into a next-level state that continued until his terrible wasteful and sad demise in 1983. If you can one-up a friggin' Beach Boy with your drug habit... Jesus, man.
#shouldabeenmike
So... Tusk. 1975, the renewed Fleetwood Mac lineup comes out with an eponymously titled record. Massive hit. Two years later, after the romantic implosions could've ripped the band apart actually made them creative wellsprings, Rumours. Which made the prior album look like a Random Idiots release. There are big hits and then there is this one.
As sober as 1977 got
Two more years of touring, cashing checks, and Tony Montana facedives, but then it's time for a new album. How do you follow-up a megasmash?
By basically fucking off and dicking around in the studio and having little splintered factions of the full band get together here and there!
For other acts, this would be catastrophic, but when you are a band of ace songwriters and seasoned players at the top of their game... even a misstep sells 4 million copies and has some good shit on it.
It was certainly categorically rougher than the smewthe mewsic on Rumours. And it lacked the catchiest of melodies and wicked sharp FU heartbreak lyrics. But mainly, it was just too damn long. You try to rein in a band that just sold 10 million copies with their last go at it. Double album it is!
There were stories about using studio trash cans as percussion instruments and such. And tracks rough-cut at home studios, then brought into the fancy digs and... kept pretty much as is. There was a sense of being more new wave and... well, not punk, but with a somewhat punk DIY approach. (As much as this band could muster that.) Plus band members generally hung over or messed up all the while, and a plethora of guests stopping by, and the usual madness when a high-profile rock and roll band does anything.
Tusk era... yikes
But they pulled off what is mostly an unsung but worthy effort. Give it a listen... as reduced to a single LP!
My story: My folks didn't have Tusk in the record collection, the one I raided routinely from 1982-1988 (and later inherited). The self-titled and Rumours, of course. But I never heard this sprawling set back then.
In college, you got access to exponentially more music, and freshman year someone lent our buddy Hightower Tusk on CD. (Let's face it, he "borrowed" it and still has it somewhere.) With the aid of Milwaukee's Best, we blared the title track ad nauseum on the hall. The story of the USC marching band at Dodger Stadium was phenomenal. (Check out Stevie's baton twirling.)
Fast forward to 2003. Camper van Beethoven had just reunited after a decade of dormancy (and Cracker spawning), an event worthy of saluting with my attendance at a couple of their live shows. Soon thereafter, a new CD of theirs appeared on shelves... Tusk. A note for note rendering of Camper van playing the Mac. Weird.
(The liner notes said they'd uncovered the tapes from a snowed-in weekend in 1986. Not true, it turned out -- this was done when they got together in 2002 to bone up on their CvB tunes after reforming and just went ahead and did this. Weirder.)
I bought it, predictably. Oh, the disposable income back then. It's a mess, but fun, sort of. Kind of. I mean, it's Lowery belting out the Buckingham./Nicks/McVie lyrics without the benefit of their vocal prowess and strewn together instrumentation. It's reasonably cool.
And most importantly, it made me go back and dig into the original for the first time. Like Mikey, I liked it! But it was long and sprawling. Not cohesive and taut.
What if, though...?
Last rec: as always, listen to it loud.
Fleetwood Mac, Tusk on One Record
Side A (22:08)
1. The Ledge
This is my second-favorite rock song called "The Ledge," I really dig this loose sound. This is not the high-production gloss of the Mac that you hear on albums that immediately preceded or followed Tusk. It is layered only with Lindsey Buckingham's madness. He got rid of everyone else's takes at his song and kept his home studio output on all instruments and vocals. Well, the official lineup on this song is:
Lindsey Buckingham – guitars, bass, drums, lead and backing vocals
Mick Fleetwood – possible snare drum
Awesome. Punkish rock anti-pop and the perfect way to start this insane record.
2. Think About Me
Veering right back into the expected F-Mac production... albeit with a wee touch of muscle and some cool Christine McVie lyrics. She is missed.
3. Sara
Now this sounds like Fleetwood Mac. Stevie lilting over Lindsey's electric and acoustics. Some ethereal back vox. A song either about Nicks' baby with Don Henley that never was, or her best friend Sara who slept with Mick Fleetwood while Stevie was doing the same. Either way, it's the one real hit from this mess of a release.
4. That's All for Everyone
Yep, everyone. Well, not everyone -- Buckingham was responsible for lead and backing vocals, electric guitars, charango, kalimba, additional bass guitar, piano, drums, and percussion. The rest of his mates chimed in where they could. It's the "fun" in "dysfunctional."
5. I Know I'm Not Wrong
This one didn't even have the trimmings of Stevie, Christine, John, or Mick helping out. LB plays everything, including harmonica. And yet with a chorus: "Don't blame me / Please be strong / I know I'm not wrong." Effffff you guys. No song was ever more Lindsey Buckingham.
6. Sisters of the Moon
We will round out our Side A with some more Stevie. A haunting little number thanks to her crooning and Lindsey's Strat work. A good tune released as an unsuccessful single. (A theme.)
Side B (18:44)
1. What Makes You Think You're the One
We'll start the second side of the record just like we did the first. Loose and rude Lindsey B. Tusk producer Ken Caillat claims that Buckingham took aim at his ex-lover in this song and "imitated Stevie's distinctive vibrato, giving it a bleating, goat-like quality, and her rudimentary piano quality, which he knew made her self conscious." Not very nice.
2. Over & Over
Again, we slide back into the lovely Christine. Silky. This song led off the double-album Tusk. What a head fake. I won't do that to listeners!
3. Not That Funny
Wait. Wait a minute. Is this Lindsey Buckingham singing "Don't blame me" yet again?? In not even a distant cousin relative of "I Know I'm Not Wrong," but more of a half-sister kind of way? Unreal. Apparently someone felt like a pariah in 1979. This amuses me greatly.
4. Walk a Thin Line
A much sweeter sound than lyric. According to Wikipedia, "Walk a Thin Line" was inspired by a Charlie Watts drum fill on "Sway", from the Rolling Stones album Sticky Fingers. This drum fill caught Buckingham's interest, and he intended to feature the part on one of his Tusk songs. Now ya know.
5. Tusk
This is one of my favorite rock songs of all time, just for the pure fun of it. A great album closer. Should've been, now it is.
Not long after the time he killed Prince, the artist formerly known thereas got to work in his Paisley Park studio to produce a compilation of the work done under his once and future name. According to Prince Vault, the video was creating to satisfy the wishes of the promoters of 1995's Ultimate Live Tour, who wanted him to play the hits. Instead, the video was played as an introduction to those shows. The resulting mashup was released as a CD single called The Purple Medley. And until this week, I'd never heard it, nor of it.
Just in case you're in the same boat, enjoy this funky mix.
When I began this post I was going to write one of my usual attempts to be dry and witty but decided that a picture is more effective in this situation.
That's a helluva lede! If you read on you'll learn "New Milford Police Officer Desmond Kivlehan was on patrol when he saw Luke Randall, of Harrington Park, hit a parked 2023 Toyota around 12:20 p.m. Monday, Nov. 10, Captain Kevin Van Saders said." Sounds like a typical Monday to me.
Johnny Law "discovered vodka bottles and a large quantity of cocaine in individually wrapped bags inside the vehicle." But that sounds typical for a DeLoran driver, no? There's more!
Randall, who was also listed as a wanted missing person from Harrington Park, was arrested at the scene.
He was charged with DUI, careless driving, reckless driving, failure to possess insurance and registration, driving without a license, and other related traffic offenses.
On Nov. 3, Randall was charged with DUI, careless driving, throwing objects from motor vehicle, and driving without al license in Harrington Park, records show.
Vodka bottles, 87 baggies of cocaine, and two DUIs in seven days ... all in a DeLorean? I don't agree with those choices (except maybe the DeLorean) but Luke sounds like the life of the party.
Every town has its quirky local landmarks. These are the kinds of things that make a place more than just a pin on a map. In the case of my little burg, an institution is reclaiming its rightful location.
From 1947 to 1994, The Mighty Midget kitchen stood at the Y-shaped intersection of Market and Loudoun Streets in Leesburg, standing sentry at the westbound entry point into downtown. The aptly named takeout spot was fashioned from the fuselage of a World War II vintage B-29 bomber and served burgers, dogs, and fries.
The structure was retired and sat in storage for several years before it found new life a few blocks away as part of the Hamburg Döner, a German street food and beer joint. I had more than a few brats from its tiny kitchen during the Döner's annual Oktoberfest. After the Döner closed in 2019, the kitchen itself stood dormant.
That's about to change. At this very moment, work crews are installing the newly-renovated Mighty Midget at its original location. The metal of the fuselage is gleaming, almost as if it's found a renewed purpose, a happy little kitchen. Avis Renshaw, owner of another Leesburg icon, Mom's Apple Pie (which shares a parking lot with the relocated Mighty Midget, will run what she calls, "the original food truck without wheels" when it reopens next year.
I'm very much looking forward to a mini-summit with Marls at the Midget. Worlds will be coming together, and my town will be all the better for it.
Ignacia Fernandez is competing in the Miss World Chile pageant in her home country. Last week, she performed in the talent portion of the show. As you might expect, she's gorgeous. As you may not expect, she's the frontwoman of Decessus, a death metal band. So here's what television audiences across Chile saw on November 2:
Here she is with her bandmates. This is 'Dark Flames', from their newest album.
Books, covers, etc. Take this energy into your weekend, my friends.
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