Don’t you hate it when you’re so fucking tired (and sore) that you lie down early for bed, only to find out that you are now wide fucking awake and that there is no chance in hell you will get to sleep any time soon?
Sigh.
I figure that while my body is still tired (and sore) and while my mind calls out for interaction with the world around me (stupid mind… I’ll get revenge on it one day for this!) I might as well do another “SOTD”, which is a terrible abbreviation so I shall not use it ever again.
Louis Armstrong is the Godfather of Death Metal. “Why?” you might ask. Well, I might answer thusly:
- He had that blood-curdling growl of a voice, kind of like Cookie Monster, only more menacing.
- He often (okay, thrice that I know of) sang about death
- He would end every live performance drenched head to toe in blood from the sacrificed goat he had just slaughtered and offered to Our Lord and Master Satan on stage.
Obviously, I am talking out of my ass and I am completely off my fucking rocker. Also obvious is the fact that I made that last point up. I think. If anyone has any proof either way, please let me know.
It may sound like I’m disparaging the guy, but I am. Well, that didn’t come out right. I love, love, LOVE listening to Louis play the trumpet and I LOVE listening to him sing. All of his performances contain the joy to be alive. He could make that horn sound happy. I’ve heard some naysayers saying (as naysayers will say) that he didn’t have a lot of technical skill, and that he composed his bands of musicians that had even less skill than him. Fuck that, I say!
I say! Old chap! Fuck that!
(please switch to a crusty Upper-Class proper English accent in your mind as you are reading the rest of this “Song of the Day”. This will ensure that things go more smoothly. Also, if you have time, please fetch your monocle, top hat and gold skull cufflinks.)
Cheerio!
Now, what was I getting on about? Blimey, life is tough for a gentleman as myself. Just this morning I was overtaken by one of those newfangled horseless carriages. It’s wheels of India Rubber sprayed The Queen’s mud all upon my freshly tailored slacks!
For shame!
This particular song, “Mac the Knife” is basically about a very unsavory fellow who gallivants about the town killing people with the aforementioned knife. Louis even drops his own name as one of Mac’s victims, and rhymes the word “cash” with “rash”. Louis didn’t write the song, but I’ve only heard (I mean REALLY listened to) his version, so I identify it with him.
One of the best parts is right before the swinging trumpet solo, when Louis says “Take it, Satch!”
And since tomfoolery and good old hoopla are what Death Metal are all about, you can see why I say that Louis Armstrong is the Godfather of Death Metal.
HAIL SANTA!