Five Song Friday: Wave Your Hands in the Air

This Week: Mythical Puppies, Brazilian Death Threats and Mummy Advice

Apr 08, 2022

You never forget your first time.

I lost my live music virginity to Hall & Oates at the Hampton Coliseum on February 27, 1985.

For those keeping score at home, it was the “Big Bam Boom Tour” sponsored by Pontiac Fiero (aka “The White Claw of Sports Cars”).

It was a Wednesday. I was 14.

Both of them acted like gentlemen, but neither Daryl nor John called me the next day.

It hurt my feelings then, but I’m over it now.

Before the concert, the band shot scenes for the video for “Some Things are Better Left Unsaid.” They asked the crowd to go wild for the cameras as they played the song over and over. Or maybe they just acted like they were playing the song?

It was 37 years ago. I don’t really remember.

They could have used puppets. I may have dreamt the whole thing.

But just knowing that I might show up on MTV as a blurry, unrecognizable face in a music video made me feel like the luckiest boy in the world.

While most of the night was a blur (except when I joined thousands of strangers for the hand-clap parts of “Private Eyes”), I do remember that the whole experience felt like a revelation.

The energy and electricity of live music was exhilarating. I was hooked.

After the most successful music duo in history popped my concert cherry, I spent the following decades going to as many shows as possible. Big rock shows at arenas. New bands at small clubs. I was down for whatever.

These days, I’m still game… as long as I don’t have to drive too far or stay up too late.

With COVID winding down, I’m excited to get my head-nodding, thigh-slapping, awkward-white-guy groove back on.

I don’t know if you’ve looked lately at how many artists are going on tour this summer, but it’s completely bananas.

I can’t wait to get out there.

Maybe I’ll see you in a mosh pit somewhere.

You won’t have any trouble spotting me. I’ll be the old bearded guy in cargo shorts who still calls it a “mosh pit.”

Happy listening! Hope you have a weekend full of wonder.

Sincerely,

DJ Crankypete

Five Song Friday 008

“Nice Things” - Tank and The Bangas

This is some bullshit.

In 2017, Tank and The Bangas won the NPR Tiny Desk Contest.

Did they win a tiny desk? Nope.

A regular-sized desk? Nope.

I’m not even going to ask if they won a comically oversized desk, because I already know the answer.

All they got was lots of publicity, critical praise and the Grand Prize of… performing at the NPR studios.

Say what now? They win and all they get is the opportunity to play for free inside an office building? You can do better National Public Radio.

Is it asking too much to have Steve Inskeep present them with a giant cashier’s check? Is Terry Gross too busy to deliver a bejeweled tiara?

I know for a fact that Kai Ryssdal keeps fireworks and champagne in his filing cabinet.

Let’s fix this going forward.

“Nothing at All” - The Stroppies

The Stroppies are from Melbourne, Australia.

Of course I Googled “Stroppies” to see if it was Aussie slang for something inappropriate like dangly bits or a lewd act performed in the Outback.

No luck. It’s just a silly word that’s fun to say and sounds like a Saturday morning cartoon about puppies who are also part unicorn (the horn part, obviously).

This track is from their 2019 album, Whoosh.

“Nothing at All” is a jangly piece of pop puff pastry and exactly the kind of song you’d expect from three musicians whose previous bands included (and these are 100% real): Boomgates, Twerps, Tyrannamen, Primetime, Blank Statements, I Heart Boobs, The Blinds, White Walls, See Saw and Possible Humans.

Okay, I made up one of those band names. But only one.

“Jimmy, Renda-Se” - Tom Zé

If you were a regular in the cafés and nightclubs of Brazil in the 1960s, you already know Tom Zé and you can ignore this bit.

For everyone else, Zé was one of the pioneers of the Tropicalia sound that included fellow South American superstars Os Mutantes, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil.

The novel way that “tropicalists” mixed rock-and-roll with Brazilian rhythms was shocking to audiences. Sometimes they were booed.

The music was even less popular with the military dictatorship that ruled the country for two decades starting in 1964.

While the youth used this bold new music as a weapon against oppression, the government preferred guns. They found that bullets, fired at high velocity into people, served as a useful deterrent against musical experimentation.

Zé kept a low profile for most of the 70s and 80s until David Byrne’s fanboy gushing lured him out of hiding and back into the spotlight. Zé became the first artist on Byrne’s Luaka Bop record label.

Full disclosure: I don’t speak Portuguese and have no idea what Zé is singing about in this song. I apologize if it has something to do with making fun of the elderly or being mean to animals.

“The Mummy” - Benji Hughes

This is a short song with simple lesson: mummies can’t handle their alcohol.

So do NOT hire a mummy to play music at your prom because it will be a disaster.

It’s a fact. Don’t forget it… or you WILL regret it.

Feeling a little skeptical right now? Check that shit at the door. Kick your doubt to the curb.

Benji Hughes knows what’s up. Dude is from Charlotte, North Carolina. Ever hear of it?

It’s only the city with the highest mummy population per capita IN THE WORLD.

Seriously. Charlotte has mad mummies.

Cairo can suck it. Giza? Not even close, son.

So my man KNOWS mummies. He also knows musicality.

What do you get when you combine those two things together? This song.

“Border Girl” - Young Fathers

Dear DJ Crankypete,
Do Young Fathers have anything in common with their fellow Scottish musicians The Bay City Rollers?
- Brian

No.

And that’s a really dumb question Brian.

How dumb is it? So dumb that this is going to be the last time I accept questions from the Five Song Friday mailbag.

Are you happy now Brian? You RUINED it for everybody else.

Young Fathers don’t have anything in common with anybody else because they are AWESOME. They make next-level music and you might understand that if you didn’t spend so much time thinking up stupid questions about pop bands from a million years ago.

Also, I’m pretty sure that if you mention the Bay City Rollers every time someone brings up Scottish music, that makes you a racist.

You can’t lump a whole country together just because one band a long time ago wore kilts or whatever.

Please sort yourself out immediately.