LP Lust: Kind Of, Sort Of
OK, I’m a bit hesitant to lay this one out there for all the world right now, as I’m sure the news will spur activity on the stock market, change the migration patterns of blue footed boobies and pretty much just blow your mind, but I’m working on not one, but TWO updates to The Greatest Zombie Mix You Will Ever Hear. Once all three parts are complete, they will merge and form a near perfect Mecha-Gundam-Mix, kind of like Voltron. As you can imagine, I haven’t had a lot of time to put together any other meaningless tributes to century old hos or musings on the sad, sad decline of beat boxing.
Whilst I was ruminating on what made the greatest zombie mix of all times and perfecting what is sure to further blow your mind, however, I stumbled across these blasts from the past and knew the universe might well collapse if I didn’t share them with you, oh faithful readers.
You’ve probably noticed by now a lot of very cosmic happenings depend entirely upon what goes on here at LET. If that freaks you out, how do you think I feel? It’s one of the many crosses I bear, I suppose. It’s hard being me, you know?
Since I have virtually no clue about any of the demographics of LET’s readership, let me take you all back to a simpler time, back in the late 80s, when people actually ordered LP record compilations from TV commercials. While there were literally hundreds of these bad boys out there, two somehow stood out from the pack and ingrained themselves into the minds of me and countless others. As far as I’m concerned, Soul Brothers and Stoner Dudes could go round for round with Clara Peller or Mrs. Fletcher any day of the week, kids. You can decide for yourselves.
And for the mp3 greedy amongst you, here’s the only song I can think of in my collection that’s actually about record collections. It’s full of all sorts of country goodness, but its real strength lies in the name dropping dichotomies in the lyrics.