Music Blog 3/27/2010

Na Cancao Do Samba by Grupo Batuque (from Football Fever: A Musical Celebration of the World Cup, Nascente, 1998)

The song’s title translates to “In the Song of the Samba”, beyond that I know not what the lyrics mean. For all I know, it could be “Yeah, England’s got a World Cup prayer this year…NOT!!!”

The Free Life by James Clarke (from Music for TV Dinners: the ‘60’s, Scamp Records, 1997)

I wish to be reincarnated as a 1950’s composer of schmaltzy advertising and industrial music. Sounds like a good job. A couple “La la la”s here, and a harpsichord or Wurlitzer there, and you’re golden. Lots of cabbage and tomatoes to be had in that line of “work”, my friend. Plus, the smoking jackets…

Above the Rim (from Hoop Dreams Soundtrack, MCA, 1994)

My homey, Herbert Kornfeld (http://www.theonion.com/personalities/herbert-kornfeld,1019/), tells me that there be so much phat VT above the rim action it be jammin’ the radar at BTon International Airport. Word. That and a lot of maple syrup production, although that activity does not jam the radar. Just the above the rim jammin’ action does. Uh-huh.

The Lonely Goatherd by Mary Martin (from The Sound of Music: Original Broadway cast)

Little known fact: The Sound of Music was originally about Kyrgyz horse riders and their dead goat competitions. But Hollywood producers felt that a saga involving an Austrian widower, his singing family and a bunch of brownshirts would resonate more deeply with the American public. Maybe. One can only wonder what could have been…

The Ball Club March by D’Anna Fortunato and the Triskelion All-Stars (from Hurrah for Our National Game: Jewels from the Baseball Diamond 1858-1913)

“I say, Cornelius, I never would have ventured out to the ball-yard had I known my Brogans were in such dire need of boot-black. How embarrassing! It’s high time Penelope and I should release Throckmorton and look for a new valet. ‘Hit the base-ball, O you Pilgrims!!!’ Drat, my latest vociferation has caused the mustard-sauce from my Frank-furter to descend onto my garters. ‘O, Throckmorton!’”