rbeetsme
1403 posts
Oct 27, 2013
4:38 AM
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I have a room full of ukuleles and play with various uke groups around town, so I feel qualified to do a little uke bashing. The following is the most annoying uke tune I've discovered recently. It starts off ok, a nice little finger picking intro, but goes downhill from there. Listener discretion advised! (don't get this one in your head)
Last Edited by rbeetsme on Oct 27, 2013 4:40 AM
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Sarge
363 posts
Oct 27, 2013
6:34 AM
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Well, I've heard worse, but that is one of those songs that stick in your head. Kinda like yellow submarine.
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Wisdom does not always come with old age. Sometimes old age arrives alone.
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lumpy wafflesquirt
749 posts
Oct 27, 2013
8:13 AM
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rbeetsme Are you on ukulele underground?
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"Come on Brackett let's get changed"
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NiteCrawler .
250 posts
Oct 27, 2013
8:34 AM
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I was thinking that the blue cumber bun with 6 or 7 slots may make for a nice harp pouch,eh?My Harps Have Become,... Cumber Bunned,now there,s a song for ya!
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rbeetsme
1404 posts
Oct 27, 2013
8:59 AM
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Lumpy, yeah I lurk on the underground occasionally. Sell in the marketplace frequently. Have you been to UWC?
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The Iceman
1237 posts
Oct 27, 2013
9:22 AM
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To counteract this terrible silly song, here is my favorite uke player...
He is 100% musician, as shown in this presentation...lotsa good stuff here that could apply to harmonica or any other instrument...
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The Iceman
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Shaganappi
50 posts
Oct 27, 2013
9:44 AM
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Awesome. Never seen anything from the uke that showed talent beyond showmanship. Thanks iceman. so cool.
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Shaganappi
51 posts
Oct 27, 2013
9:44 AM
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Awesome. Never seen anything from the uke that showed talent beyond showmanship. Thanks iceman. so cool.
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rbeetsme
1405 posts
Oct 27, 2013
10:13 AM
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I've seen Jake live twice this year. I have to say, might be the best concert I've ever been to. Just Jake, no accompaniment. Amazing. Don't forget Peter Madcat Ruth and Lil Rev, both ukers excellent blues musicians and harp players. If you like Jake, check out James Hill.
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nacoran
7262 posts
Oct 27, 2013
11:58 AM
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Lol. Yeah, that's pretty bad. Okay, terrible. Vomit inducing. It makes me want to drop a nuclear weapon. Drivel. Arlo Guthrie has a much better anti-nuke song, although I can't remember it's name right now. It's pretty funny. If I was writing an anti-nuke song, I'd write about the day in the life of a child in Nagasaki or something. Arlo Guthrie didn't go the serious route, but he was still clever and thought provoking. Funny or serious can work, but on a serious issue 'bad' shouldn't be an option.
Years ago, in poetry class, our book had two poems, presented side by side:
Thoughts on Capital Punishment
by Rod McKuen (b. 1933)
There ought to be capital punishment for cars
that run over rabbits and drive into dogs
and commit the unspeakable, unpardonable crime
of killing a kitty cat still in his prime.
Purgatory, at the very least
should await the driver
driving over a beast.
Those hurrying headlights coming out of the dark
that scatter the scampering squirrels in the park
should await the best jury that one might compose
of fatherless chipmunks and husbandless does.
And then found guilty, after too fair a trial
should be caged in a cage with a hyena's smile
or maybe an elephant with an elephant gun
should shoot out his eyes when the verdict is done.
There ought to be something, something that's fair
to avenge Mrs. Badger as she waits in her lair
for her husband who lies with his guts spilling out
cause he didn't know what automobiles were about.
Hell on the highway, at the very least
should await the driver
Traveling through the Dark
BY WILLIAM E. STAFFORD
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.
My fingers touching her side brought me the reason—
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.
The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.
I thought hard for us all—my only swerving—,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.
It was one of the best and simplest lessons on writing I've ever had.
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Nate
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