Archive for February 3rd, 2019

03
Feb
19

The T-Bones “No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach’s In)”

I bought this record in an antique store (cheap) awhile back, never having heard of it (since, I seem to run into it constantly, either mentioned, or physically) because I thought the title was so bizarre—I mean, that title is just kind of weird. And then the cover is broken up into 12 squares, four consisting of words, but the other eight are black and white photos of various stomachs. I never really sat down and catalogued them, but it’s a boxer, ballerina, miniskirt, belly dancer, jack hammerer, businessman, and chubby guy in a hurry. The first song is the title song, and then the second is a version of the Chiquita Banana commercial—and either there is some kind of well-timed scratches on this song, or there is someone playing that wooden fish you scratch with a stick, a little off, and directly into the recording process, without benefit of filtering or mixing. I mean, I really don’t know. There’s also versions of the hits, “Fever” and “Let’s Hang On” and a song called “What’s In The Bag, Goose.” All of it is really pretty cornball, kind of sounding like some studio musicians came in on a Saturday for a little under the table cash for one-take-on-the-side work. There isn’t really a band called The T-Bones, is there? I’m guessing the moonlighting musicians took their cash and drove a few blocks (I’d say walked, but this is LA) to Musso & Frank and had a few cocktails and T-Bone steaks, and thus the name.

But why make all that up when there is some definite liner notes (though micro-font) on the back, sandwiched in-between a larger version of the the two businessmen (doing God knows what) from the cover. Actually, all that it is about is how there are actually some television commercials that are so good—that people want to watch them. Funny, because I’m listening to this during the Super Bowl, and people have talked about (at least in the past) how they watch that dull and plodding game just to see the commercials. Personally, I find the commercials even less watchable than the boring game. But both infinity better than the halftime entertainment, which—I mean, if you were like tied to a chair with your eyes propped open with toothpicks—could be considered a humanitarian violation.

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