Memorandum of the excised DJ
It sounded like great news: the nice people from the Euroranch invited us here from camp catatonia as as a guest DJ. Well, rather, as a guest DJ team, because, even though katatonik The Proverbial Blabbermouth tends to run this establishment almost exclusively with her own at best mildly interesting ramblings, there’s more beings to camp catatonia than catch the eye.
So we sat around at the campfire, discussing what to play and what not. The most interesting question, namely who would get to do the playing – management, katatonik, foot or me -, remained of course unanswered. Of course, because as it always happens in this rotten world, the powerful get their own way and forget all about the underprivileged and marginalized.
katatonik, excited & enthusiastic as usual, was all for that Asian stuff. Or what she calls Asian stuff – Japanese psychedelia, strange Japanese female voices blurting out what they believe to be English, to brutale guitarre bonanza, and the, um, weird acoustic elaborations by young Indians’n Pakistaneez mostly living in the UK. You know, those belonging to the hunt’n gather tribe in musical cultures where people don’t wear socks.
The foot, opportunist as ever, agreed with ms. Globally Confused And Still Grinning As Hell. Oh, how I know my pappenheimer: he just hoped that if she already favoured barenaked music, she’d also slip in some of that music to which young Western people commonly stomp their feet. Rock and such. It’s only a small step from naked feet to stompin’ feet. Oh, that decline of civlization!
Me? Noone really asked. Soon it became obvious that the general consensus was for me to stay at home and tend the campfire. That’s what you get for being a sock: eternally lonesome, deprived of your loved ones by inhumane machinery that pretents to clean & wash you, and on top of that you never get to be a DJ.
Alas, as everyone knows, civilization began when humans discovered socks. It was that fragile, yet reliable textile layer between human flesh and the earth which gave humans democracy, human rights, and refrigerators. So, fellow civilized ones, here’s some sock music that to all appearances won’t be played Friday evening in Vienna’s Volksgarten Pavillon:
- Filk: “Lord of The Socks”
- Ray Stevens: “Red Neck, White Socks and Blues” (also available by Hank Thompson)
- Fats Waller: “Your Socks Don’t Match” (also available by Louis Jordan, Bing Crosby, and Louis Armstrong)
- April March: “Knee Socks”
- Willi Astor: “Ragtime 4 my 12 lost socks”
- Lovage: “Herbs, Good Hygiene and Socks”
Slightly degenerated sock sounds are, of course, also available (the decline of civilization never stops):
- Tenacious D: “Rock Your Socks Off”
- King Missile: “Socks”
- Buffalo Daughter: “Socks, Drugs and Rock’n Roll”
pathetic! we only thought you'd better stay at home 'cause you seriously proposed playing a record of 40 MINUTES of unabridged sock poetry. I mean, that stuff makes you throw up already after 2 minutes straight.
foot (Jun 21, 03:06 am) #
Volksgarten Pavillon, ist das nicht die hübsche Laube in dem kleinen Park beim MAK um die Ecke? Frage ich als letztjähriger 7-Tage-Touri. Na jedenfalls viele enthusiasmierte Hörende und Tanzende wünsche ich.
oh, woran ich dachte, war das Teil im Stadtpark - hoffentlich war das jetzt nicht beleidigend, ich kenne mich ja in den Wiener Szenen nicht aus (duck). Viel Erfolg!
mv (Jun 21, 05:54 am) #
Meierei im Stadtpark, das war's, was Du meinstest. Nein, Volksgarten Pavillon ist so zwischen Rathaus und Hofburg, auch das Bundeskanzleramt ist gleich dort. Schwerpunkt des Dreiecks Bundeskanzler, Bürgermeister und Bundespräsident, sozusagen
katatonik (Jun 21, 10:11 am) #
this is unfair! a little bit of sock poetry wouldn't have hurt at all! besides, you didn't even contribute to that press release text we had to write - even though katatonik said either she had your text on her desk by saturday evening or she would have to look for some other foot to be her co-dj. you illoyal sum of five toes, you!
sock (Jun 21, 01:37 pm) #
man sagt dr.seuss ja nach, daß er seine abgefahrenen ideen, und seinen wirklich erstaunlichen zeichen-stil dem längerfristigen konsum einer nicht unbeträchtlichen menge an halluzinogenen drogen in den 60ern und 70ern zu verdanken habe. hat mir zumindest ein freund aus amerika erzählt. nicht daß das wirklich von belang wäre, nur so als kurze schmunzel-episode am rande.
Ha! Mit dieser wertvollen Information können wir die Socke vom hohen Roß ihrer Zivilisiertheitsarroganz in den gemeinen Sumpf der Verkommenheit stürzen! Von wegen: wo "Socke" draufsteht, ist Kleinbürgerintegrität drin. Danke!
katatonik (Jun 21, 03:46 pm) #