The Symphony is performing “Concerto For Dogs” tonight.
It is entirely out of the human audio spectrum.
Violins, trombones, and other instruments tuned like dog whistles.
Nobody knows what the composer’s name is.
He was born as Almo Burt, but he had it changed a few years back to something outside of the audio spectrum, too.
Typical weirdo artist, right?
He steps through the curtain, bows, and announces: “Now put on your blindfolds. The performance is about to begin.”
The audience agrees, the lights are turned off, and the Symphony sneaks out for a drink at the pub next door.
Tag: music
500 More
Remember when The Proclaimers sang that they’d walk 500 miles and then walk 500 more to fall down at your door?
I never understood that song. Why would someone walk a thousand miles? Can’t you get a plane ticket or bus fare?
It turns out that they walked out your door, kept walking for 500 miles, turned around, and then walked all the way back.
Why they did this, I have no idea. They could have just walked out your door and fallen down right then and there.
Utterly bizarre.
The Proclaimers truly put the “wonder” in “One Hit Wonder.”
The Blues
You bought that guitar from a store? Got it for Christmas?
Stop! Stop stop stop!
Stop playing the Blues!
You don’t have the right to play the Blues.
The old Bluesmen were so poor, they made their instruments out of whatever was lying around.
Screen doors, busted-down car radiators… even their little brothers and sisters.
You don’t make instruments out of your big brothers and sisters because they can beat you up.
And you don’t make em out of gramma and grampa because they smell funny.
So put down that guitar, get poor, and learn.
Learn, and earn the Blues.
Until I Fall Away
We tried to use music to teach Calculon creativity and inventiveness.
We failed. All it did was reproduce the same sound, over and over.
So, we tried improvisational jazz.
Calculon reproduced that, too.
“Maybe we should use live concerts instead of studio albums?” I asked.
After Calculon copied the live albums, we made a few calls and loaded it into a truck.
We joined the Gin Blossoms tour.
At first, to observe. But in time, Calculon picked up on the “magic” of live concerts and picked up a guitar to jam.
Then it did a stage-dive and crushed 4 fans.
Toot
I’ve often been accused of tooting my own horn too much.
This is an outrage!
Unlike others, who do it out in public, I have the decency to reserve a rehearsal room for my tooting sessions.
The more I practice, the better I get.
Or, are they accusing me of not letting others toot my horn?
Why would I let them do that? I paid for it, It’s mine. Mine!
And just the thought of your lips on my mouthpiece. Ewwwwww! Grosssss!
Toot your own damn horn! Leave mine alone!
Now I have to boil the damn thing, you bastards!
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan is an asshole.
Heaven doesn’t have a door to knock on.
It has gates. St. Peter stands at the Gates Of Heaven with a book, and the dead line up to find out if they get in.
You don’t have to bang on the gates, because St. Peter is always out there, waiting for the recently-deceased.
Well, not really waiting, since people are constantly dying and joining the line.
Does he ever get a break? And how does he get updates in that book?
After lying to us for decades, Bob Dylan sure as hell isn’t in it.
Song Fight
During the American Revolution, to symbolize the casting off of British rule, the lyrics were stripped from the song “God Save The King” and changed to “My Country Tis Of Thee.”
Canadians, being a part of the British Commonwealth, still sing the original version.
This makes for some interesting situations at karaoke bars on the border.
Put enough drinks in the crowd, fire up the tune, and you’ll get both sides trying to shout each other down.
Sometimes, a fight breaks out. People get hurt, glasses and chairs and tables get broken.
And the Mexican laborers sweep up the damage.
Back in the high life
Warren was a musician. His fame had waned, but his loyal fans in every town would pack the small clubs he’d play in.
His last tour was an experimental solo project. He left his band back at home, and he went from club to club, just an amplifier and a microphone.
It was a hit with the fans, and so that’s all he did until the day he died.
Fans showed up at the club he was scheduled to play that night, his guitar and hat on a dimly-lit stage, a single spotlight.
And they still tour to this day.
Medicinal Music
Studies with burn patients showed that engaging the patient with music helped reduce the need for pain medications during bandage changes, and the patients recovered faster.
As a result, the hospital needed less medication and nurses to deliver it and monitor patient progress, which led to significant cost-savings.
That was until the RIAA had talks with the drug companies and the nurse’s union.
Lobbyists got Congress to require a prescription for purchasing music.
Apple and Amazon were delighted to raise prices for downloads and cloud-streaming.
This isn’t a piano. It’s a fancy bar table.
See? No hammers.
Totally legal, man.
Vault
The reporter asked the billionaire if he could see his collection of rare musical instruments.
The old man walked over to a map, and waved at all the pins on it.
“A violin in a vault serves no purpose. It is meant to be played.”
The reporter smiled. “So, you’ve given them to musicians around the world?”
“Not really. I’m just messing with you. They’re in the basement.”
“May I see them?”
“If there’s any left. We’re feeding them into the furnace.”
The reporter fainted.
“I hate the press,” said the billionaire, and he picked up a violin and played.