McSweeney’s: An Open Letter to the Occupants of a House on the Nintendo Game "Paperboy.": (via hardlikealgebra)
Thank you for providing inspiration for the creative writing lesson I’m going to teach tomorrow!

Very sad to hear about !!! percussionist Jerry Fuchs’ passing this weekend.  My thoughts are with his family and friends.
From Juan MacLean’s blog:

Jerry was one of my best and most loyal friends. He was hands-down the best drummer I have ever played with or seen for that matter. Jerry was with me from the start of The Juan MacLean, and we had countless adventures together all over the world. He was utterly sincere and fiercely loyal. During a particularly difficult time, while backstage in a club in Chicago, Jerry told me “Juan, I will follow you to the end of the earth and I will always be there for you.” That was Jerry, the greatest drummer in the world, the greatest friend you could ever have.

Originally posted 14 July 2009 (tonight’s post in progress):
somesongsconsidered:

“All My Heroes are Weirdos” - !!! (Words/music: !!!, available on Myth Takes, Warp 2007) Lately, I feel like I’ve been paying a lot of attention to formative songs in my personal listening history.  It’s strange referring to these important musicians as “heroes” when I’m not writing or (currently) performing music, but there’s a definite element of admiration involved.  If nothing else, I admire their innovation – at least innovation in the sense that many of my favorites willfully went outside of their comfort zone.  Whether it’s through risk-taking or pushing the envelope, these are reminders that excellence often requires to step out of our comfort zone.  I’ve been told (more when I was younger) that these people produced “weird music,” and I think this is the reason they captivated me in the first place.  Even if I never got around to starting that noise rock band, there’s a strange comfort in watching something beautiful come out of something unconventional.!!! pay homage to odd idols appropriately by turning a cacophony of jarring sounds into a fluid groove.  They play funk like a rusty bicycle – some of the parts might not please the senses, but together it’s a machine that moves adeptly as it weaves in and out of traffic.  Among others, the Talking Heads’ glitch-funk from the Remain in Light era serves as a prominent touchstone of weirdness.  Like the ‘Heads, !!! try to cloud the core of the song in an unconventional fog.  However, like their weird heroes, the groove cuts right through, letting the freak-show flood light illuminate the dance floor for the rest of us.
More on !!!: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Hey Hey What Can I Do” – Led Zeppelin (Words/music:  John Bonham, John Paul Jones, Jimmy Page, and Robert Plant, available on “Immigrant Song” Single (Atlantic 1970), Led Zeppelin: The Complete Collection (Atlantic 1990)) Like many American males, I went through a Led Zeppelin phase as a teenager.  I remember buying the Remasters CD set as an introduction to the band and playing “Communication Breakdown” to break in the first subwoofer I ever owned.   For a variety of reasons, I went a long time after this phase ended without actively listening to the band.  Whether it was from overdosing on them at age fifteen, never getting into the mystical lyrics (never been a Lord of the Rings devotee), or just becoming preoccupied with other bands, my time in the cult of Zeppelin gave way to a begrudging respect from afar.  I still worshiped John Bonham’s quick hands and feet, but again I felt myself pulled toward other drummers.  This seemed emblematic of my relationship with the band in general – they seemed so far out of my league that I never felt a strong connection.Now, when I think of Led Zeppelin, I’m drawn toward the less canonical songs – perhaps because of the seemingly millions of times I’ve heard “Black Dog” on the radio, or maybe because I still harbor contrarian tendencies.  Regardless, these are the songs that pique my interest, in part because something like “Hey Hey What Can I Do” still manage to sound like Led Zeppelin songs without the aggressive guitar riffs.  Instead, it draws on the blues more for subject (in this case, heartbreak) than style, relying on the less-heralded arranging skills.  Specifically, the lively mandolin dances around the acoustic guitar chords in a playful way, and the backing vocals (a relative rarity in the Zeppelin catalog) build on the song’s campfire feeling.  Of course, it still gives Robert Plant’s caterwaul an opportunity, particularly in the song’s outro, but it also features the rare experience where Plant’s narrator isn’t in control.  Perhaps I’m letting the strength of his voice influence my memory, but Plant’s characters generally have a sense of control or power (or, if nothing else, at least a sense of action).  In this song, his protagonist has little else to do but leave behind a wild woman.
More on Led Zeppelin: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2009-11-8):

R.E.M. (13) 

Japancakes (12) 

No Dunks Inc. (6) 

Ted Leo and The Pharmacists (5) 

Oasis (5) 

Imported from Last.fm Tumblr by JoeLaz

“Move On Up” – Curtis Mayfield (Words/music: Curtis Mayfield, available on Curtis, Rhino 1970) On its own, the first four minutes of “Move On Up” accomplishes everything it needs to accomplish.  Mayfield threads together his inspirational lyrics, stone-cold groove, and shouting horns for a three minute celebratory burst that makes even the most bashful singers break out their best falsetto.  In many ways, it’s the epitome of the “secular gospel” sound Mayfield cultivated (Buffalo Tom’s Bill Janovitz quotes Mayfield as calling his music “church songs” without the word “God” in his Allmusic writeup).  Yes, Mayfield’s lyrics sound like an emotional pep talk, but it’s the sheer joy that permeates every note of the song that makes it great, from the crispest snare drum to the loudest horn.It’s this sense of joy and celebration that gives the song a second act.  After essentially ending the song with a closing fanfare, the drummer brings the band back in.  One by one, Mayfield’s band starts back in and builds on the groove.  While there’s an excellent saxophone solo during the first half of this vamp, the focus remains on the groove, as the drummer and conga players furiously lay down the beat and the horn section hits their figures.  In some cases, such an extended coda might feel self-indulgent.  Here, it’s a celebration of the perfect groove and jubilant horn phrase.  Even as it approaches the nine minute mark, “Move On Up” never overstays its welcome.  Instead, it takes its good ideas and gives them the space to play themselves out.  Whether listening to just the first half of the song (or something like The Jam’s accelerated take on it) or the entire extended version, it’s impossible to resist Mayfield’s electric charm.
More on Curtis Mayfield: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Suburban Home” – The Descendents (Words/music: Tommy Lombardo, available on Milo Goes to College, SST 1982) For me, the key line in the Descendents’ “Suburban Home” is the one where  Milo Aukerman sings “I wanna be masochistic.”  It’s too self-aware to suggest that “Suburban Home” is anything but tongue-in-cheek for anyone who doesn’t pick up the sarcasm from the opening “I wanna be stereotyped / I wanna be classified” line.  Ultimately, this is the suburban dilemma – assimilate into the white picket fence lifestyle or resist and stand out from your neighbors.  On an oversimplified level, it’s comfort versus individuality, and this struggle is the one that the Descendents thrash against.Subtlety isn’t one of the Descendents’ strong points, but “Suburban Home” stomps for most of its 1:43 seconds.  The opening and closing spoken word reciting of the opening couplet helps to reinforce the song’s main point – the assimilation that suburbia thrusts upon many – and in the middle turns it into one big slamdance.  Ironically, the Descendents did anything but fade into suburbia; vocalist Milo Aukerman earned a PhD in biochemistry in between stints fronting the band.  While punk rock (in some ways) fell into blandness in the early part of this decade, the Descendents’ thrash went against the grain in 1982.
More on The Descendents: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

Happy Sunday, Internet!
A few new wrinkles I wanted to point out this afternoon.  First, reorganized the sidebar slightly.  While doing this, I added a search box that (so far) searches the 300+ posts this year.  If you’re looking for something new, try typing in something you like and see what comes up!
Also, I added a “shuffle” button that brings up a random post.  I don’t know how to make the Streampad player shuffle through my posts (it plays from the most recent in reverse chronological order), but feel free to use this to shuffle through the songs and posts on here.
I’d love to hear if you have suggestions as well – please let me know!
Again, I’d like to say thank you to everyone who comes by, reads the posts, and listens to the songs.  Whether you come here via Tumblr, The Hype Machine, a search engine, or any other way, I’m humbled to have you spend part of your day here.

“I’m Amazed” – My Morning Jacket (Words/music: Jim James, available on Evil Urges, ATO 2008) Despite repeated endorsements from friends, including friends I trust, I never really latched on to My Morning Jacket.  I have copies of most of their albums but never really listened to them on my own.  I even saw them live with Pearl Jam in 2006 and was impressed by their musicianship despite a less than ideal situation (this, in addition to seeing James peform with Conor Oberst and M.Ward years before they became the Monsters of Folk).  Still, I never followed through on any of my “leads,” whether from other people or my own experiences with the band.  I wish I could give a concrete reason for this, but it really only comes back to a lack of time to listen to all of the records I want to hear.Ironically, it might have been this indifference that made me take notice of the band.  The entire Evil Urges album sounds more like the fluid, shape-shifting version of the band that plays legendary sets I read about rather than the reverb-drenched Crazy Horse disciples I heard on record.  So when I spent a quiet Saturday night home with a glass of whiskey and Saturday Night Live, I wasn’t ready to be blown away by “I’m Amazed.”  I expected the band to show off their chops, but instead they played a simple, harmony-driven rock song.  Instantly, it clicked for me – with this simple song, I saw a band running on all cylinders.  Even without tricky chord changes or intricate jams, the guitars still felt forceful, especially during the solo.  Most importantly, I saw a band having fun on stage, and when I got Evil Urges, I heard the same things in the studio version as well.  Even if it’s not the most complex (or lyrically deep song), James crafted an arrangement that lets his band flourish.  While many might argue that “I’m Amazed” doesn’t accurately represent the band’s musicianship (or the eclectic sound of Evil Urges), it captures the band as a group that enjoys what it does and excels at it.
More on My Morning Jacket: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

merlin:

Pavement – “Carrot Rope”
Mark Ibold is my fantasy of the ultimate freshman roommate lottery draw.
He seems like a guy who’d replace any Cokes he drank — and wouldn’t even make a big show of pointing out that he’d done it.
Yeah, sure, it’s a weird fantasy, but, y’know, you’re not the boss of me. No. You are not. College is a complicated time, and I won’t be judged about which musician from a band I liked 15 years ago would probably replace my Cokes without making a big deal of it.
That’s between me and my God.

“With a Little Help from My Friends” – Joe Cocker (Words/music: John Lennon and Paul McCartney, available on With a Little Help From My Friends, A&M 1969) For many, Joe Cocker’s version of this song evokes The Wonder Years.  I’m only nostalgic about the show because it was my dad’s favorite show when I was a kid (I was ten when it ended).  Between my parents viewing and the backdrop of Vietnam War-era America, it felt like another world for me.  Of course, the show might make more sense now that I lived through (and have a healthy distance from) my early teenage years.  Regardless, Joe Cocker’s voice makes me think of this show, and perhaps that’s why his version makes sense.Cocker takes the Beatles’ original, slows it down, and twists the emotions on the original.  I like the bouncy Sgt. Pepper’s take on the song (and as I’ve suggested before, I’m a Ringo apologist), but Cocker’s version focuses on the anguish in the song’s lyrics.  Perhaps it’s Cocker’s voice, particularly the way that he trails off near the end of some of the lines, that makes the song sound worn out, but Cocker’s narrator feels fatigued.  That, combined with the backing vocals that lead him through the chorus and later share the burden with him in the final verse, puts the focus on the aid from friends.  It’s this spirit that the show – one that focuses on growing up during one of the more tumultuous moments in twentieth century America – captures, and having Joe Cocker set the stage every week feels appropriate.(Side note: I learned tonight that Jimmy Page played guitar on this.  I’m too tired to try to work it in to the rest of the post, so I’ll just share it here).
More on Joe Cocker: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“That’s a little lazy. Beach Boys is just kinda your go-to vocal harmony band—especially given the fact that there are so many bands right now with guys in them who do legitimately sing like the Beach Boys. I feel like Amber and Angel’s tones are very, very different. They’re much less about that “warm, round” thing than a very linear, angular thing. That’s a little lazy, dude.” – Dirty Projectors’ David Longstreth reacts to comparisons of his music to a wide range of reference points in articles and reviews about Bitte Orca. He says some nice things about Beyoncé and of Montreal, so that’s cool. I guess he’s into insolent sex parties. (via perpetua)
Shared for calling out the limited vocabulary in music.  I’ve fallen into this trap as well, but he’s right – too often, these “this sounds like that” comparisons are lazy.

“The Yankee Flipper” – The Baseball Project (Words/music: Scott McCaughey, available on The Baseball Project, Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails, Yep Roc 2008) I’m the first to admit that I take baseball for granted.  I don’t watch as many games as some of my friends, yet I’m always sad when there isn’t a game to watch.  I guess at this point in my life it’s one of those things that makes me happy just knowing that it’s there.  If I don’t always watch a game (and this year, watching Mets games wasn’t always a relaxing decision), I still like seeing Baseball Tonight or catching scores on the radio.  Even if I’m not actively watching games every night, I feel better knowing that somewhere a baseball game is going on.So when I heard that Scott McCaughey, Steve Wynn, and Peter Buck (among others) collaborated on an album of baseball themed songs, I immediately wanted to hear it.  These songs lace together the type of power pop Wynn and McCaughey usually create with stories pulled from baseball lore.  In particular, “The Yankee Flipper” immediately stuck out because I remember watching Jack McDowell pitch for the White Sox and Yankees in the 1990s.  It turns out that the night before McDowell’s infamous incident where he flipped off Yankee fans, he was out drinking with McCaughey, R.E.M.’s Mike Mills, and Dennis Diken from the Smithereens.  McCaughey claims that the story is true, and given McDowell’s own musical pursuits it’s entirely believable.  It’s also one of the few instances on The Baseball Project, an album culled from recalled moments of fandom, where the fans in question had an influence on the game itself.  Sure, it was ultimately McDowell’s lousy performance (and short fuse) that led to his back page infamy, but it’s also an instance where some diehard fans felt partly responsible.  I’m sure that the rock boys felt bad that their friend experienced the backlash (just imagine what that would have been like in the YouTube era!), yet McCaughey feels responsible without ever feeling remorse.  After all, it makes him a part of one of our era’s more colorful footnotes.So tonight, as the Yankees appear on the verge of putting baseball to bed for the winter, consider this a salute (not necessarily the same salute as Black Jack, unless you’re a Philly / Boston fan) to baseball and a reminder that spring training can’t come soon enough.
More on The Baseball Project: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“My Bloody Valentine, Loveless

“Absolutely the greatest rock album ever made that requires no concentration whatsoever. I can’t think of one lyric off this album, even though I listened to some of it today. Incredible sound. Guitars like witches. A thousand subsequent bands have copied it, but no one has ever gotten it right (including Kevin Shields). It makes me want to write about unscary monsters.”” – Flavorwire » Blog Archive » Chuck Klosterman Presents: Albums That Kick Writer’s Block

“The whole premise was such a joke, and I think maybe I took it too seriously. I started to feel like I was becoming a cliché of myself.” – Pitchfork: Sufjan Stevens Calls the 50 States Album Project “Such a Joke”

This makes me sad. So sad I think this calls for a frowny emoticon.

(via jimmyjosh)

You know, the dude got famous on this idea.  He writes awesome songs, don’t get me wrong, but how many articles were written on the premise that he was working on this insane project?  Certainly, his record ended up in the hands of a few more DJs and a lot more consumers because of it, so perhaps he shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the idea that’s given him the creative freedom to mess around with weird multimedia projects.

merlin:

SUGAR – “If I Can’t Change Your Mind”
I very dearly love Copper Blue. And, how much do I love Bob in a cardigan? Yes. Very much, thanks.
That compressy acoustic guitar sound’s all Pixy Stix and unrequited crushes. Just perfect.

Agreed.  This is one of those song I could listen to every day.  See also: August 13th post

emmiline:

christinefriar:

[passthemike:tiffanyarei:willcrusta]

Cartman – Pokerface (FULL)

MUH MUH MUH MUH

can’t resist

At one point, I came across a convenient (and slightly oversimplified) definition of comedy – if you laugh out loud by yourself, you know it’s really funny.  This made me squeal uncontrollably last Wednesday night.

“Smiley Faces” – Gnarls Barkley (Words/music: Brian Burton & Thomas Callaway, available on St. Elsewhere, Atlantic 2006) In 1976, David Bowie affectionately referred to his Young Americans album as “plastic soul.”  It seems that Bowie used the term (originally used as a critique of Mick Jagger singing soul music) somewhat tongue-in-cheek, yet it seems an apt description.  If soul often centers itself on the groove, Bowie took it as something pliable.  His take stretches parts and bends other to his liking, creating a weirder version of the genre.Regardless, I wouldn’t call Gnarls Barkley “plastic soul,” but rather “cartoon soul.”  It seems almost too obvious of a label with Danger Mouse getting his name from a cartoon, the series of costumes the band wore during promo appearances, and the general Technicolor quality to the band’s albums and videos.  Rather, I’m drawn to the larger-than-life qualities of cartoons and the abundance of wonder and imagination.  Even “Smiley Faces,” one of the tracks on St. Elsewhere that isn’t crammed to the brim musically, feels elastic.  Where some songs use a “walking” bassline, this one feels like the way a cartoon character struts down the street with long, bouncing strides.  Cee-Lo’s voice fits this type of track perfectly, as he’s able to manipulate his voice without sacrificing its power or soul.  For example, he can hold a note and bend it to his liking.  It’s not that these notes feel unnatural nor is Cee-Lo the only vocalist with this skill.  In this setting, it feels like a cartoon character fluidly shifting forms.  His voice has the same freedom to move unconventionally rather than stay tied down to genre conventions.  Even if the end result sounds like a snappy, soul-inspired piece of rock music, parts of it make it feel like it’s hand drawn, inked-over, and colored in to achieve something brighter and snappier than average.
More on Gnarls Barkley: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Pumping On Your Stereo” – Supergrass (Words/music: Rob Coombes and Supergrass, available on Supergrass, Capitol 1999)  “Pumping on Your Stereo” comes out of the gates at full steam.  It had a terrific video directed by Hammer and Tongs (in collaboration with the Jim Henson Creature Shop).  It has an odd sort of shuffle to it that makes it boogie as much as anything that didn’t feature Flea or Fatboy Slim in 1999.  It also has a great chorus, complete with the word “humping” replacing the word “pumping” (or rather, clarifying the meaning of “pumping” in the title at least).  Even the pre-chorus works well, bridging the verse and the hook with the right mix of flair and embellishment.  Simply put, it has a lot of different parts that I enjoy.Still, every time I hear the song, I think about how much Gaz Coombes sounds like Mick Jagger on this track.  I try my best to stay away from “this sounds like that” type of statements (remind me another time and I’ll get into it then), but Coombes seems to emulate so many different parts of Jagger’s vocal delivery that it almost seems intentional.  Coombes elongates syllables and holds onto notes just a little longer than normal.  Meanwhile, he sounds like Jagger pouting during the verses.  Perhaps it’s residual effect from watching Coombes’ Muppet body warble around the screen the way Jagger runs around a stage, or maybe it’s some strong Stones-inspired riffs throughout the song (especially at the end), but “Pumping On Your Stereo” makes me think of the Rolling Stones.  At this point (1999), I probably wrote off the Stones as a boring classic rock band (even if I loved “Sympathy for the Devil” for its polyrhythms), so maybe, in an odd way, it was my subconscious calling out to give the Rolling Stones another try.  Regardless, I’ll take a back-to-back helping of “Pumping On Your Stereo” and “Rocks Off” any day of the week.
More on Supergrass: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Juxtaposed with U” – Super Furry Animals (Words/music: Super Furry Animals, available on Rings Around the World, Epic 2001)
So I haven’t really been thinking too much about 2009 in its historical context, but I’m sure someone will make a case for it (or the last couple years even) as the year of auto tune.  From T-Pain’s iPhone application to the brilliant Auto-Tune the News to the overuse in every other pop single, Auto-Tune earned plenty of detractors.  What was once a way to make tuneless starlets into passable pop singers (remember the ‘90s?!), Auto-Tune became the space age effect that everyone wanted on their single.  Like many other things Auto-Tune is neither inherently evil (nor inherently good, to be fair).  Instead, it’s the abuse of Auto-Tune that makes it so deplorable.  As an aesthetic effect (I won’t comment on its use as a pitch corrector, as someone who can’t even come close to holding a tune), it works well when used properly.
My best evidence (at least off the top of my head) is “Juxtaposed with U.”  Super Furry Animals use a vocoder (which, unless I’m mistake, is the same thing Auto-Tune uses, right?) to create a distinctive vocal effect.  Then, they juxtapose this mechanized voice with the sweet strings behind it.  Then, when Gruff Rhys sings the pre-chorus unadorned by the vocoder, the melodic qualities of his voice (which lead me to think of his first name as a sort of juxtaposition) stand out more.  It’s a unique way of setting apart the hook from the verse, and as a deliberate aesthetic choice (as opposed mindless bandwagon jumping), it accomplishes the task.  I’m not sure it makes up for the forthcoming Lil’ Wayne Auto-Tune/rock album, but it’s a useful card when trying to convince a “vocal purist” that technology can help make a pretty cool song.
More on Super Furry Animals: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2009-11-1):

Guided by Voices (26) 

R.E.M. (15) 

Jay-Z (5) 

Stars (2) 

The Beach Boys (2) 

Imported from Last.fm Tumblr by JoeLaz

“Werewolf Bar Mitzvah” – Tracy Jordan (Words/music: Jeff Richmond, available via NBC.com, 2007) One of the more charming parts of “Werewolf Bar Mitzvah,” is the dialogue between Tracy Jordan (alter ego of comedian Tracy Morgan) and his producer.  In the world of the sitcom 30 Rock, Tracy Jordan is akin to Martin Lawrence, complete with ubiquitous semi-fame and an IMDB page full of stinkers.  It’s believable that Jordan would make a novelty cash-in record, but the premise of this one – somewhere between a Hebrew rite of passage and Halloween – even baffles the man cashing the paycheck.  Before the third verse, the producer warns Jordan that the song is losing steam and becoming “sweaty,” prompting Jordan to declare that “this whole premise is sweaty!” (Let’s be honest – it’s less than three minutes long and feels like it’s twice that length). Still, he soldiers on through another plot-driven verse and another spin through the chorus before ultimately declaring that it’s no “Dick in a Box.”Like 30 Rock itself, “Werewold Bar Mitzvah” approaches comedy with the right blend of absurdity and self-awareness.  Jordan’s narrative delves deeper into bizarre details as he tosses aside every horror movie fact and Hebrew vocabulary word he can remember.  It’s the way a novelty song works – the hook is the only substantial part, yet it has to go away for a while before we can welcome it back.  So Jordan starts telling his ridiculous story and we’re generally ignoring it, waiting for the “spooky, scary” line to come back.  Meanwhile, Jordan and producer wink at us the entire way.  Happy Halloween.  Mazel tov!
More on Tracy Jordan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

Truths about this song:
1. I went out for Halloween last night as a different Tracy Morgan character.
2. I once (2007) put this on a Christmas Festivus party mix. Nobody seemed to mind.
3. I just reblogged this a little while ago, but I don’t mind.
somesongsconsidered:

“Werewolf Bar Mitzvah” – Tracy Jordan (Words/music: Jeff Richmond, available via NBC.com, 2007) One of the more charming parts of “Werewolf Bar Mitzvah,” is the dialogue between Tracy Jordan (alter ego of comedian Tracy Morgan) and his producer.  In the world of the sitcom 30 Rock, Tracy Jordan is akin to Martin Lawrence, complete with ubiquitous semi-fame and an IMDB page full of stinkers.  It’s believable that Jordan would make a novelty cash-in record, but the premise of this one – somewhere between a Hebrew rite of passage and Halloween – even baffles the man cashing the paycheck.  Before the third verse, the producer warns Jordan that the song is losing steam and becoming “sweaty,” prompting Jordan to declare that “this whole premise is sweaty!” (Let’s be honest – it’s less than three minutes long and feels like it’s twice that length). Still, he soldiers on through another plot-driven verse and another spin through the chorus before ultimately declaring that it’s no “Dick in a Box.”Like 30 Rock itself, “Werewold Bar Mitzvah” approaches comedy with the right blend of absurdity and self-awareness.  Jordan’s narrative delves deeper into bizarre details as he tosses aside every horror movie fact and Hebrew vocabulary word he can remember.  It’s the way a novelty song works – the hook is the only substantial part, yet it has to go away for a while before we can welcome it back.  So Jordan starts telling his ridiculous story and we’re generally ignoring it, waiting for the “spooky, scary” line to come back.  Meanwhile, Jordan and producer wink at us the entire way.  Happy Halloween.  Mazel tov!
More on Tracy Jordan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm