I fucking love Fishbone. Who doesn’t?!??
(I will fight anyone who doesn’t)
In this album’s liner notes, the band thanks George Clinton, Brian Eno, John Cusack, and God – in that order. Seems about right to me.
“Museum directors with their high shaking heads/They kick white shadows until they play dead.” Everybody knows “Let’s Go,” but really, how interesting is it to like the nightlife, baby? It’s not. “The Dangerous Type” is the real and true banger on this album. Shout to Greg Hawkes for the delicious synthy goodness and Roy Thomas Baker for being a general ’70s studio god (QUEEN).
I’m told that this topless gentleman was an important figure in music; more importantly, I know for a fact that he put babies in women on 12 separate occasions, making him the music game Antonio Cromartie. I try not to post album covers that remind me of my home country’s gross insatiable hunger for firearms, but I’ll overlook it in favor of laziness. (I needed an album cover this week and I had the jeans and plastic gun required.)
I WANT TO GO TO WRESTLEMANIA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS MUST SHOCK YOU BUT I AM NOTHING IF NOT A COMPLEX WOMAN WITH A VARIETY OF INTERESTS.
Update: IT FUCKING WORKED. I AM GOING TO WRESTLEMANIA. Thank you for the tickets, Eric Perkins, whose uncle works for Vince McMahon. You are immortal in my eyes, sir.
Best thing outta Scotland after whisky, Groundskeeper Willie, cozy Fair Isle sweaters, Bon Scott and the Young brothers, David Byrne, the flute guy from Jethro Tull, Average White Band, and the exceedingly NON-Average White Lady known as my great-grandma, who puts her full support behind women mastering historically male-dominated activities and who also encourages me, somewhat pimp-like, to “Show em your nice shape, honey,” because these 2 things aren’t mutually exclusive for me as a woman, you see. (Sorry, @sexistdudesofinstagram! xo)