Retro & Vintage – Page 172

Saturday Matinee – Kid Ory’s Muskrat Ramble

Kid Ory was one of the greatest trombonists and band leaders of the 20th Century. One of the early jazz pioneers, his career spanned decades and influenced uncountable others. From Wikipedia:

Kid Ory had one of the best-known bands in New Orleans in the 1910s, hiring many of the great jazz musicians of the city, including, cornetists Joe “King” Oliver, Mutt Carey, and Louis Armstrong; and clarinetists Johnny Dodds and Jimmie Noone.

For many years I thought King Oliver formed the band. Here’s Kid Ory’s band in 1959, playing “Muskrat Ramble,” a song he wrote in the 1920’s. [Bonus: Interview with Kid Ory.]

Satchmo got his start playing 2nd trumpet in King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band, later married the piano player Lil Hardin. Here’s Louis Armstrong’s version of “Muskrat Ramble.”

Country Joe MacDonald blatantly and unashamedly ripped off Kid Ory’s tune (probably without paying royalties) and warped it into a sarcastic war protest song. Here he is in his blissfully ignorant glory (apparently without the Fish) at Woodstock 1969.

Here’s a kinda related video: Small Faces’ “Tin Soldier.” There’s a reason they had few TV appearances and I don’t think Spinal Tap could’ve topped that spastic performance. [Found via Mogadonia.]

Just sealed it. I’m going to hell for connecting Kid Ory with Spinal Tap Lego animation. I am very sorry and I promise that it won’t happen again as far as you know.

Charlie. With an attitude that’s about to snap.

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[Updated with full panel]

[Image from here via Neatorama.]

Pen & Ink: Mattias

I love pen and ink illustrations, and Mattias Inks has a good spread. He’s got a 1930’s comic book style with an odd twist that you gotta see for yourselves.

If I could make a living doing this kinda work I’d need nothing else in life. Except for food and beer. Oh yeah, and family. And a computer with internet access. Nothing else. Maybe a car and a house. And a stereo. That’s it. Except for a refrigerator. A warm indoor bathroom would be nice, too, with running water and a water heater. But that’s it. I know that list is kinda long, so let’s start with a million bucks and move up from there.

[Somewhat related post here.]

Ode to Herbie Hancock

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[Image from here.]

Babe Magnet: The VW Basbo Flash

I honestly don’t know the story behind this amazing feat of engineering, but here it is.

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Very cool. The styling just screams high performance babe magnet.

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Serious aerodynamics here. This dragon wagon chills at close to the speed of light and it beats your ride even while parked. Okay, it’s got an unfortunate license plate, but hey, the hotness overrides the WOBL1. Let’s have a look at the interior.

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IT’S A COCKPIT! Way cool. But, um, where is the silicone/saline siren supposed to sit? Seems to be a slight design oversight, but admit it, you’re still cruising at 3,000 feet right?

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Not quite. Sometimes scale matters. You are travelling at whelp speed in a truncated tadpole…

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..only worse. It’s a Mars Bar with wheels and an embarrassing license plate.

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Screw it; it’s basic transportation. Let’s mess with the traffic and laugh about it while feeling Green and saving the planet. (Sorry, there’s no room for you. Get your own tadpole, mooch.)

So is it a Babe Magnet or not? Phhht. For the money, I’d buy a Harley and a rainsuit instead, and I’d still get better mileage than Mr. Tadpole.

BUT if I were forced into driving a dorkmobile, and only upon penalty of death, I’d choose this, if only for the nostalgia:

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Sam Lowry drove a Messerschmitt in BRAZIL.

[Top images via email from Dan S. Don’t miss this excellent collection of Babe Magnets.]

Cheesecake from the Dawn of Time? Nah.

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“The Dancing Venus of Galgenberg is unique. Her head and limbs are carefully depicted, and even accented with openings in the stone. Her left arm is raised with the hand behind the head. She stands with her weight resting insouciantly on one foot, and the right hand is placed on the hip. One breast is shown in profile, the other is carved in low relief. In my column, I drew attention to Betty Grable’s familiar pose.

“The Dancing Venus is no Mother Goddess. This is a chick with sex appeal. Cheesecake since the dawn of time.“

Really. Someone needs to get a life. Continue reading “Cheesecake from the Dawn of Time? Nah.”

Saturday Matinee: Jerrie Thill, Ray McKinley, Gene Vincent & Clifford Stoll.

We have a very eclectic combination this weekend. You’re gonna like ’em.

Oddness alert: Jerrie Thill, and Allee Willis. [Found here.]

Ray McKinley‘s band with “Big Boy” (featuring Imogene Lynn) and “Jive Bomber.” These appeared in a 1942 short that included “St. Louis Blues.”

Gene Vincent & the Blue Caps’ “Baby Blue” from the 1958 movie “Hot Rod Gang.” Oh yeah.

18 Minutes with Clifford Stoll, an amazing guy with a lot of things he’s not going to talk about. (This is the same guy who more recently was mocked for a Newsweek article he wrote in 1995 regarding the future of the Internest… and was wrong.) I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the inspiration for Dr. Emmet Brown, played by Christopher Lloyd, in the movie “Back To The Future.” This one is mandatory viewing here, so grab a snack and a beverage and watch the whole thing.

[Found at Neatorama.]

Saturday Matinee: Rays

The Ray Beats had a great album, “Guitar Beat.” Get it.

The Rays: Silhouettes, 1957. Another great Chess Records group.

Ray Price. His Cherokee Cowboys included the likes of Willie Nelson, Roger Miller, and Johnny Paycheck, so quit snickerin’ y’all.

THE RAY.

Okay. This kinda stuff is obnoxious and completely unnecessary in Bunk’s opinion. Sort of like taking your favorite beer, wine, champagne, brandy, whiskey, bourbon, gin and tequila, dumping it all in a plastic trash can, and declaring the resulting cacaphony great.

But there ARE some greats on that stage, including Ray Charles, James Brown, B.B. King, Little Richard (who tells everyone to go home), Bo Diddley, Fats Domino (?), and Jerry Lee Lewis (whose microphone should have been left turned off).

Who else did I miss in that awesome lineup?

This Can Happen to YOU.

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You’re driving along a secluded roadway with your older brother’s girlfriend and you find yourself surrounded by magical red bricks, hovering around your vintage 1948 Eelmobile.

A plaid alligator materializes in the rear seat and a coon hound jumps out of your hat. A phantom image of Franklin Delano Roosevelt swallowing a large jalapeno appears behind you, follows for a while, but vanishes before you have time to take notice. The speaker under the perforated dashboard blasts The Ramones to the rearview mirror above.

Meanwhile, the lights at 53rd Street and Third Avenue have stuck on green, causing mass confusion to pedestrians and vehicles.

At 57.4 mph, you, your brother’s babe and your bitchin’ ride are transported over the intersection, ten stories up, easily clearing the parapet of the L. Foosers Paperclips Building while the magic bricks swarm like mad rectangular prism hornets.

That’s when I usually wake up.

[Image from here via here.]