Hold onto your hats, folks

A significant departure—SIGNIFICANT—from our usual Embed-O-Phenia music-vid fare tonight, one which I’m betting a good many if not most (if not ALL) of you guys ain’t gonna much care for. Actually, it’s hardly my usual preference in musical styles either, to be charitable about it. But I was over at a friend’s house a few years back with a cpl-three others of my usual crew of reprobates, criminals, and ne’er do wells, when my boy Travis pulled this one up on the TeeWee and we all just busted a gut laughing at it.

Oh, and apropos of not much, the guy whose house our crew was chillaxin’ at was the domicile of my friend Phillip, who is a black dude. The below vid ain’t his usual musical cup of tea either, contrary to what someone given to making assumptions about the typical relationship between our darker-complected brethren and kinda-sorta rap like this usually is. Phil is a rock and roll/surf/punk-rock drummer, against all odds, and a damned good one at that. So much for stereotypes, eh?

ANYHOO. I’m posting this as a dedication to our friends over at GFZ (I never have figured out how to ascertain who’s posted what over there for some reason; if anybody wants to clue me in, I’m all ears), on account of this recent rip re: Five-Oh, Da Man, Johnny Law, Offisah Friendly, the Po-Po.

Two things can be true at the same time:

One: Without effective policing cities will dissolve into chaos, like in San Francisco and New York City, where mass looting, violent street assaults, and quality of life crimes have rendered those cities into shitholes.

Two: This is an obscenity.  There was absolutely no reason for a cop to attack a dog like that on the dog’s home porch.  That was vicious and unnecessary, and the officer should be punished for that.

This is the sort of shit that turns me against cops.

It’s not just possible but reasonable and  moral imperative to say “the Left’s ‘defund the police’ is bullshit but this here cop needs to be tossed out like the piece of shit that he is.”

Lots of ’em do, which doesn’t in any way disprove or gainsay my oft-repeated insistence that, having known and/or been related to more than a few LEOs myself over my whole damned life, there ARE still good cops around out there. Getting harder and harder to find, maybe. In fact, strike that: CERTAINLY. The white-hat cops I’ve known are all long since retired, and almost all of them swear that there’s no way in hell they’d take the job now, so far sideways have things gone since they worked as lawdogs. According to them, we’ve come a long way from “Protect And Serve,” in precisely the wrong direction. But the good ones haven’t all walked away, although the clot-shot mandate is going to see to it that they’ll be in the minority from here on out. And not just by a little bit, either.

On to the embed, which came to mind immediately when I read the GFZ post not because of the “Kilos in my bag” verse, but for the rousing (a-HENH!) chorus; trust me, it will be more than obvious why. Like I said, brace yourselves for something way, way, WAY out of the usual line here with this one. But I guar-on-tee you I’m gonna watch a little bit of it when I go retrieve the embed code from YewToob, and will laugh like hell when I do. So there. Don’t hate me ’cause I’m beautiful.



Good while back I seem to recall reading someplace that, ironically enough, Stitches (a/k/a Phillip Nickolas Katsabanis) has a stepdad who either is or used to be a cop. Don’t know if that’s true or not, and I don’t care enough to go digging around to find out, but I deeply, deeply hope that it’s so. Because, funny as I think the above video is already, that would really put the cherry on top of the sundae for me.

Short, sweet, to the point

Da Nuge, as is his wont, cuts right to the chase.


Know what I’ve always loved most about the Motor City Madman? His politesse—the careful, exquisitely nuanced way in which he expresses himself.

Via Wes Renegade, who also posts another Nugent interview wherein Ted pungently and correctly describes FederalGovCo as “the most evil force on earth.” Calls for a little Embedophenia, I do believe.



Love him or hate him, I see no possible way to deny that Ted Nugent is as True American Original as True American Originals come.

4
1

The Godfather

So we have with us here at the dear ol’ websty a feller with whom I’ve been enjoying a most enlightening and scintillating email correspondence recently. Said feller happens to be the inventor and purveyor of what looks to be a very clever whetstone, see; after noting the shameful confession I made here to my total lack of any sharpening skills or experience—a confession made all the more shameful by the fact that I have never once walked out my front door without at least two (2) edged weapons of some type or other on my person, and often more than two, since the frabjous and life-altering day when my dad took me to the long-gone Boy Scout Supply store on Westinghouse Blvd in CLT to buy me my very first pocketknife at, oh, about age 12, I think—he got in touch to inquire if I’d be interested in receiving one of his whetstones, gratis.

Included in that inaugural email was a link to his business website, a to-the-point, minimalist affair whose central feature is a video laying out the stone’s functionality, as well as some instruction on how it’s properly used. All this I took a good look at before getting back to him; frankly, I was happy about his generous offer, while also being a little intimidated by the long odds against my being competent to actually master the skill after lo, these many years. Even so, though, what sort of pathetic jackass would I be if I let a little intimidation cut me off from a new experience? The prospect was so contrary to the manner in which I’ve conducted myself over the course of my entire damned existence that the novelty of it stung me, and not in a pleasant way. So naturally I said sure, bring it on.

The email confab continued on from there, broadening in scope as these things will, until this very evening the topic of the incomparable James Brown was introduced with a query as to whether I was a fan. As any person of musical intelligent and erudition must, I responded with an enthusiastic two-thumbs-up endorsement of the incomparable Godfather of Soul, then meandered from there to Eddie Murphy’s impeccable Brown impersonation on SNL during the brief period when it almost watchable. And that’s when it hit me like a thunderbolt what tonight’s musical embed simply HAD to be.

So for those of you CF Lifers who are kindly disposed to Brown and Murphy, hey, no need to thank me for this video bounty. Thank malachi31619. I’ll open with Eddie because, no matter how good they were, nobody ever followed James Brown in the days of his greatest glory without getting their ass stomped into a sticky red paste. As the last vid confirms, even in his latterly days the Godfather was still no slouch. He was a tough act to follow all the way to the final walkoff.

Expect a review of the whetstone after I’ve spent some time with it, whether I conquer it or it conquers me.

2

GOOD GAWD, Y’ALL!

Tonight’s Tune Damage embed is another beloved classic from my misspent youth.



Even in the eclectic, anything-goes era when it was released, Edwin Starr’s version of “War” managed to not sound quite like anything else on the radio at the time, a genuine standout. Mark-1, Mod-0 antiwar-shitlib sentiment lyrically, of course, but I never was bothered by that; Edwin Starr’s powerful, rock ’em-sock ’em, old-school-R&B vocal performance simply flattens all other considerations. Plus, this is Soul Train we’re talking about here, man—the real-deal original, the likes of which have never been equalled and will never be seen again. Taken altogether, there just ain’t no gainsaying this vid far as I’m concerned. The raw data:

Motown hitmakers Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong wrote this song. Starr began his career recording for Ric-Tic Records, a Detroit label that was a rival to Motown. In 1968, Motown bought Ric-Tic, which gave Starr access to their writers and producers.

This is a protest song about the Vietnam War, although it makes a broader statement of the need for harmony in our everyday lives.

“War” was one of the first Motown songs to make a political statement. The label had always been focused on making hit songs, but around this time Motown artists like The Temptations and Marvin Gaye started releasing songs with social commentary, many of which were written by Whitfield.

The Temptations were the first to record this; it was included on their 1970 album Psychedelic Shack. Motown had no intention of releasing it as a single, but many in the protest movement, especially college students, made it clear that the song would be a big hit if it was. Motown head Berry Gordy had other plans for The Temptations and didn’t want them associated with such a controversial song, so he had Starr record it and his version was released as a single. Starr didn’t have as big a fan base to offend.

This song has a very distinct tambourine part, played by percussionist Jack Ashford. He was one of the Motown Funk Brothers who played on the track; bass player Bob Babbitt and guitarist Dennis Coffey were also part of it.

Coffey came up with the psychedelic guitar sound Norman Whitfield used on “Cloud Nine” by The Temptations, which marked a musical shift for the label. In a Songfacts interview with Coffey, he said: “Norman wanted to change the sound of Motown, and I was the guy that helped him do it. He wanted to get into that protest and social consciousness stuff, so I did that fuzz tone thing up high on ‘War.'”

Starr added the interjections “good God y’all” and “absolutely nothing,” which became some of the most famous ad-libs in music history.

Starr won the Grammy Award for Best R&B Male Vocal for this song.

Starr died of a heart attack in 2003. He was 61.

Starr’s rendition was released in ’70, rocketing straight up to Number One and holding firm there for about a month. I was 10 years old myself and well remember what a monster hit “War” was; it was absolutely all over AM radio that summer, which in those glorious days was exactly where any artist and record label needed a new release to be if it was to ever have a hope of amounting to anything. As you might expect, I got the .45 from my uncle’s drugstore just as soon as I could get my hands on it. Wish I still had it, too; God only knows what it would be worth on eBay now.

5
2

Embedophenia

Since I seem to be doing so much of it these days, let’s just go ahead and make the video embeds a regular CF feature, with a very own brand-new category for ’em, shall we? Tonight, we’ll stage something of an informal debate between two opposing ideals, as expressed by, first, Junior Brown:



And in the other corner, we have the CORRECT view, as the Red Rocker sees it.



Yep, I am definitely with Sammy on that. Lastly, we have one of the greatest vidyas EVAR.



Muchas gracias to my 12-going-on-35 young ‘un, Madeleine, for hipping me to that last one. I swear, I’ve watched this thing about fifty-leven times now, and still just about kill myself laughing every. Single. Time.

4

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