Now I’m not saying Frank Zappa And The Mother’s Of Invention is… What the hell even is this? Make a Jazz noise here. I am saying don’t eat yellow snow. Perhaps. Nor am I saying that their song is better than The Stooges. I’m not saying this beats out R.E.M. or Alice Donut or The Guess Who or Iron Butterfly, Public Image Limited, Bob Vylan or Kate Nash or the Bonzo Dog Doh Dah Band.
I am saying you can’t do that on stage anymore. I am saying we’re quite a short distance from the end and quite a long distance from the last all out full on pair of heavy duty, zircon encrusted tweezers. And that will not do.
We can’t have a list of this much greatness and not have Saint Alphonso’s Pancake Breakfast, where I stole the margarine.
Once a Dental Floss Salesman From Montana… Always a ship arriving too late to save a drowning witch.