Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Words That End In "O"

There are only two that need maintain our attention here. The first of which is "limo". We can not, at least for today, resurrect our campaign to get it accepted as a substitute for "really cool" or "awesome". In fact, we'd like to ask out loud whether the word has indelibly become associated with something more sleazy.

The first time we sensed that the campaign might be in trouble was many years ago, back when stoner rock ruled the Brooklyn rock underground and no-one was allowed to wear tight trousers. Happy times indeed. For the hairy, as well as the unkempt, the whole western seaboard (of Brooklyn) was our playground.

And among the big bullies were Kung Pao, nasty sludgecore merchants that demanded the use of "molasses" as a metaphor. When they opened up for Therapy? at the Knitting Factory in 2001 the gap between sets was like being dragged out of quicksand.

What did Kung Pao choose as one of their signature anthems? The perfect means of explaining to the hairless their low-slung grimy sensibility was, of course "We Got Limo", which you can download at the linked bandpage if you have the patience. It worked, and a mere two months after traveling to New Jersey Country Club Wedding in one we could no longer associate them with purity or plutocracy.

This is a not unreasonable revulsion. Between the cheap gutrot liquor with which they are stocked, the amble floor space that encourages explicit gymnastics, and their popularity with fraternities and promgoers, you can see whay the classier elements that live on Museum Mile are reverting to horses and carriages.

The other word ending with "O" is Tempo, where we finally managed to grab a dinner as part of the "Not At All Like Manhattan Restaurant Week You Worthless Hack Marty" Dine In Brooklyn promotion. We wiill stop being ungrateful now, since Tempo joins that select group of Brooklyn restaurants with the class, and the brass, to rival the more outrageous Manhattan establishments. The other one we can think of is Gia in Fort Greene. We suggest you try both for DIB, although we desperately want to try Appplewood.

We also stop briefly to mourn French popster Johnny Hallyday's loss of a claim on his recording back catalogue. We must say, though, that we had assumed he was only borrowing it from Shakin' Stevens. Boom boom.

Finally we were genuinely shocked to learn while cruising Therapy?'s site that the mighty Tommy Vance was dead. We have been trying to cut back on using mighty, but there is no other word for Tommy, who was the king of rock, and convinced us that Rock DJs were more powerful than Indie DJs, and that both were merely sonic John The Baptists for the Jesus that would be the Metal DJs.

Tommy sounded like he was ordering your death, and you still wanted to curl up with his riffs. He was more abrasive than utter coke fiend Johnnie Walker and much better for it. We are sad that he will not be around to soundtrack the apocalypse, and sadder that we missed the news. Ah, the lot of a foreign correspondent...


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