Why Willie Nelson Can Blow Me

Why Willie Nelson Can Blow Me
by Robert Pollard*

Here’s what he said. I don’t even know the guy’s name. I’ll never say his name ’cause he sucks so bad.

He said the guy in matchbox twenty, that pussy, restored Willie Nelson’s faith in songwriting.

Fuck Willie Nelson!

See what I’m sayin’? He smokes too much dope, doesn’t he?

I’ll tell you what, all these alt.cunt....Alt.cunt. You know that genre, alt.cunt? Alt.country? That shit can blow me. Alt.country. Lyle Lovett and Sheryl Crow. What the fuck? Get a job!

I listen to fuckin’ rock and roll! T.Rex and the Who and shit! Get a grip!

I don’t get it, man. When you’ve got the fuckin’ whole god-damn royal jelly right on your fuckin’ plate and you’re going to listen to some alt.cunt. Come on. That’s why the world sucks.

You got Dubya and you got, uh, Lyle Lovett. Texas can fuckin’—no, I didn’t say that.

We just played there recently, and I told them, “I know you guys want to be your own country. If Guided By Voices made the decision to not to play anywhere but the great old U S of A, if you guys became a country, we’d make an exception for you.”

Sorry about that. But you know where I’m comin’ from.

You know where I’m comin’ from.

*spoken during GBV's final San Francisco show, the Fillmore, 11-13-04

Musical Baton

OK, so Jeff passed me a musical baton. Now Paul has upbraided me (good-naturedly, of course) for ignoring it. I wasn't ignoring it as much as I didn't really get the concept. But I'll play along:

Total volume of music files on my computer: Appx. 10 GB (mostly in iTunes, but some still lingering in the Windows Media Player).

The last CD I bought was: A couple of months ago, I bought Worlds Apart by ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead and Now Here is Nowhere by the Simple Machines. Been mostly listening to promos and other freebies.

Song playing right now: None. (See, this boring baton is why I avoided it.)

Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:
1. "Places That Are Gone," Tommy Keene
2. "Destination Ursa Major," Superdrag
3. "I Am a Scientist," Guided By Voices
4. "80 Windows," Nada Surf
5. "Bastards of Young," the Replacements

I'm passing this baton along to: Jerry. He's the only friend left who blogs and who hasn't already had a baton passed his way.

Cross Hairs

Many people already know this, but comedian/Arrested Development cast member David Cross is a funny guy. (He's also bald, hence the wacky headline. Comedy gold.) So, for your enjoyment, please read his Albums to Listen to While Reading Overwrought Pitchfork Reviews. Believe me, Pitchfork is full of those.

Also for your enjoyment, hopefully, here's a review I did of Cross' DVD, Let America Laugh. We're Americans, and we did.

Oh, first a side note. In looking for a David Cross Web site, I typed in davidcross.com. The result is perhaps the most minimalist (wait, can there be a most minimalist?) site ever.

Now, the article:

David Cross, Let America Laugh, Sub Pop
Documenting a 2002 tour by Mr. Show vet and current Arrested Development cast member David Cross, Let America Laugh—while not as subversively hilarious as the best of Mr. Show—simultaneously displays Cross’ irreverence and the sheer stupidity of some of this country’s citizens. (Consider it an aural companion to Cross’ comedy CD, Shut Up, You Fucking Baby!, recorded during the same tour.) While there are stand-up scenes included—particularly amusing is his closing “squagles” bit—the focus (and genius moments) of Let America Laugh, directed by Lance Bangs, are the non-gig interludes. Particularly priceless is when Cross loiters backstage at Nashville’s Exit/In after the manager kicks him out. Cross mercilessly mocks the guy from the stage for his pre-show, attitude-laced comparison of Nashville to New York and L.A. and an initial refusal to remove tables and chairs from the front of the stage (in order not to lose food sales); he then surreptitiously films the guy’s exasperated reaction when Cross, feigning obliviousness, won’t leave the building. Hilarity ensues. Sharp viewers—well, them and freaky Superchunk fans—will note that Mac McCaughan operates the camera and asks the questions during an interview with a banal girl pontificating on the indie cred of noted counter-culture comedian Robin Williams. Best moment of the deleted scenes is a quick shot of L.A. pop band Arlo wigging out on an unappreciative crowd: “You’re the most enthusiastic oil painting we’ve ever played to.”

Good Taste

So I go to Potbelly for lunch today--as I probably too often do--and what song do I hear but Sloan's "False Alarm". (Not from the acoustic troubadours they have in there every other day or so, but the canned music.) Usually it's classic-rock-a-go-go, so I was amazed and more than a little pleased.

On the subject of food, there's a semi-interesting discussion over at RustedRobot about snack food, healthy eating, etc. Since I got married in 2001, my wife has steered me in the right direction as far as eating well. She goes out of her way to make good stuff for dinner, and while I do slip up on occasion--I have a weakness for Potbelly and their amazing oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies--I've avoided the typical fast-food establishments for the better part of two years. However, I'll never give up Salsa Verde Doritos, unless a loved one was in harm's way. Tough call, even then. (Related side note: Apparently, this flavor of Doritos is somewhat difficult to find. I recommend making the effort.)

While I'm not losing any weight, like I'd like to, something's going right in that since March 2003, I've been sick a grand total of once (a horrendous cold in August of that year). Given that I work in what is often nothing more than a giant petri dish, with people constantly sniffling and coughing, I have to think there's some correlation. For me--someone who used to get the flu, at least two colds and occasionally bronchitis every year--to go this long without illin' is an accomplishment of some sort.

Running of the Bulls

It appears the Bulls are now in deep doo-doo, down 3-2 to the Wizards. However, after last night's amazing comeback from a 22-point deficit, I'm as proud of the Bulls as I would've been if they won. No team in the NBA would've done what they did; they'd all be going through the motions on their way to their posses, pot and PlayStations. This team, as it has shown all year, is different. They play hard 100 percent of the time. As much as I'd like to see them advance, after six years of horrific basketball--and this year's 0-9 start--just being in the playoffs is gravy. I'll remember the comeback far longer than whatever the next result may be. And if they can steal game 6 in D.C., they'll win game 7 back in Chicago.

The Cubs, meanwhile, continue to annoy, losing to the Brewers last night on, of all things, a walk-off walk. I'm in the minority here in that I don't blame Dusty Baker for the team's ills--is it his fault Nomar and Kerry Wood aren't healthy? That normally reliable GM Jim Hendry didn't do anything to shore up an already-crappy bullpen?--but I found the image below pretty amusing.

Funny times in Cubdom these days...with Dusty at the helm, they won 88 games and almost went to the World Series in 2003 and won 89 games last season (admittedly, they gagged away a playoff spot in the final week). When was the last time the Cubs were legit contenders two seasons in a row, with high expectations for the third year? 1908? 1932? Yet Dusty Baker, in the eyes of most Cubs fan these days, is the problem. Right. Frankly, the backlash disgusts me.

p.s. Happy birthday to Jeff.

Random Cute Politicized Baby Photo

So young, yet so liberal. (Disclaimer:
It's a friend's baby, not a random one.
If it matters.)