Hunting a bar with a destructible piano in Modena, the first result in Google’s ontology of nocturnal musical diversion – their bohemian rompsody – is a piano bar, or, as we Catalans say, a house of hats. Club Shilling’s‘s certainly prepared to make work for idle apostrophes, but there are no clear openings for pianists, unless perhaps they in turn are willing to submit to regular organic inserts.
Which reminds me: when the republic’s presidente (sempre presente) says his is smallest, he’s boasting.
- My dream barrel organ sound
La Java Viennoise played at Les Primitifs du Futur:
That looks like Fay Lovsky on musical saw, and yes, that is Robert Crumb in the background. You are going to do something by Ms Lovsky, asks S. Well, of course. I tend to prefer what I imagine are her B-sides, and unfortunately they don’t seem
- RTVE uses a song about a bloke who burnt down his girlfriend’s house to accompany an anti-gender-based violence ad
Your organisation says: Let’s forget for a few years about Peruvian serving girls punched by their up-town mistresses, husbands terrorised by their wives, and boys bullied by their bigger boyfriends. Instead, let’s reiterate the machista myth that all GBV is man-on-woman. And so the agency puts together a snappy three-liner with some music that evokes …
- Invasion of the feet
A bouncer was standing outside a club when suddenly a horde of feet poured down the street and began squealing, “Let us in, let us in!”
“This establishment’s non-discrimination policy doesn’t apply to autonomous human body parts,” he replied, “so fuck off.”
But they began kicking at his ankles, and hopping up his legs to …
- Unlucky organ-grinder-ballad-singers
Kasper Lutz in German (occasionally), nameless in French and English?