Sep 272011
I’ll tell you what, if the only 2 songs available for play at my funeral are any version of “And When I Die” and this scene chewer, I’ll allow you to play my least favorite song in the world. At least it’s unintentionally funny.
I’ll tell you what, if the only 2 songs available for play at my funeral are any version of “And When I Die” and this scene chewer, I’ll allow you to play my least favorite song in the world. At least it’s unintentionally funny.
You got it, Homes!
The “Ride Captain Ride” clip is historic. This is *my* least favorite song done by Blues Image. Seeing BS&T’s version only cements how bad this song is.
Not to turn this into a BST pile-on, but I just want to note that David Clayton Thomas’ website calls “Spinning Wheel” a “jazz/rock composition.”
He was very drunk, but a close friend once pulled me aside and made me promise that, at his funeral, I would ensure that “Baby Got Back” by Sir MixaLot was played…
I thought of you immediately when I saw that bad boy sitting there, waiting to be played.
As far as I’m concerned, the only BS&T album that’s anywhere near essential is Child is Father to the Man, and that’s partly because David Clayton-Thomas and his strangled throwing-up style of singing are nowhere in sight. It’s a pretty great record that’s not predictive of the headaches to come. While “Spinning Wheel” and “And When I Die” are annoying enough, BS&T’s most laughably over-the-top moment has to be their horrific “arty jazz” deconstruction (demolition?) of the Stones’ “Sympathy For the Devil”. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mycylXuB33U
tony, all I can say is that you’re a bad man for subjecting us to that.
Look, I am sure that, if pressed, I could think of a band I detest more than BST. It isn’t as if I am any more likely to sit through an entire song by, say, Pere Ubu than I am to sit through an entire, or even a whole minute of, anything by BST. But there is something special about the kind of loathing I feel–indeed, that I have felt since I was a child!–towards BST and particularly, though not exclusively, David Clayton Thomas. I would like to figure out just what it is that sets me (and obviously not just me) off about him/them. It isn’t just how sucky they are; though they are extremely sucky, but so are many other far less loathsome. It isn’t just his stupid ass face and voice. Although that is a huge part of it. Long before I knew what he looked like I hated the sound of his voice. “Spinning Wheel”! What a blight that song was on my youth! That was long before I ever heard such arguably even more grievous offenses such as “And When I Die” and that hideous “Sympathy for the Devil” that tony conjured up. Anyway, maybe it is all best left not too closely examined.
It is truly, truly awful. I really don’t mind the Blues Image original (assuming it is an original) as long as I don’t think too much about it. Whereas this is instant nausea.
wtf was that??? I am disturbed having listened to that. Curse you.
Somehow I either got through life without ever seeing BS&T on TV or I effectively removed it from my memory. But, watching that video was about as bad an experience as it gets. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much like punching somebody for flashing a peace sign.
But, Ringo is on my list.
I want to be brought to Joshua Tree and burned in my casket after my good buddies pour some Jack into it. Then turn on Knockin on Heaven’s door as they watch my ashes float up into the sky.
Curiosity killed the cat. You guys only have yourselves to blame for clicking on the link. Sure, you could have just taken my word about the awfulness and horror, but noooo…..
For True Rock And Roll referencing, I believe that should be “mostly burned.”
A modern day equivalent would be Coldplay for me — rock for people who don’t like to rock.
Dang, I LOVE Blood, Sweat and Tears. “And When I Die” included. What’s wrong with me?
Apart from “You Made Me So Very Happy” BS&T have made very little impression in the UK, but even on the strength of memorires of that one song I’ve always been happier when not thinking about them.
I lived for seven years with a big Laura Nyro fan, and eventually began to enjoy her music, although I can understand that she is not to everyone’s taste. I’m currently finding it difficult to imagine anyone thinking it might be a good idea to marry a band clearly aiming to be the last word in syrupy MOR schlock drowning in tubas and the music of a woman whose most accessible tunes sound as if they are being played on three record players at different speeds with each taking it in turns at random moments for supremacy.
Thanks Tony for posting the Sympathy For The Devil link. I only managed to get about two or three minutes into it, but the squonking horns at the bit where I switched it off reminded me of the beginning of the Temple City Kazoo Orchestra’s rendition of Also Sprach Zarathustra, a great personal favourite.
gregg, this may not be the place to seek answers to that question. Possibly a priest or faith healer can help.
Stan wrote: “I lived for seven years with a big Laura Nyro fan, and eventually began to enjoy her music…”
That phenomenon is known as the Stockholm Syndrome, Stan.
Curiosity finally got the better of me and I clicked on that link. Dear God, how could an abomination like that exist? There were 9 members of that band and I’ll bet that at least 7 of them thought “Am I the only one who thinks this is ridiculous?”. Did they lack the courage to stand up to the musical bully in that group? Al Kooper must have been laughing his ass off when this came out. I’ll bet it still cracks him up to this day when he thinks about it.
Is that the thing where you wake up and realise that ABBA’s music means more to you than any other in the whole world?
That could certainly be one manifestation. Especially if you are being held prisoner by Frida.
Do you think they even listened to it after they recorded it? They couldn’t have. Someone would have said something, wouldn’t they?
Here’s a decent, original take on No Expectations, by The Dirtbombs. The video is nothing to look at, but listen to it while you browse the information superhighway and you’ll forget all about that trip into hell Mr. Yola guided us on.