SONG OF THE DAY: It Doesn't Really Matter (kudzu'd)

I am forever confused as to how Dayton is in Ohio. If Ohio was a person, I would want to fight it. In fact, I often just think of J.D. Vance as anthropomorphic Ohio. But then I accidentally drive through Dayton, or even more easily listen to Zapp, and I’m like, “Damn, but Dayton.” I guess it’s like the Achilles heel, but opposite, so when you have a giant geographical lump of shit, you have to have this little reverse zone to confuse everybody, because the Universe is a Trickster, always and forever.

SONG OF THE DAY: Why Can't We Live Together (kudzu'd)

Look man, I can’t say his name now that he could accidentally become Number 48, but I’m still gonna have that Greater Appalachian Steel Chain Match with ol’ cryptopuppet middle manager ass boy from up in Ohio one day. I’ll take a bid in Florence ADX if I have to. Like the song says, "All we want is some peace in this world," but unfortunately, all too often, certain pieces of it get all up in the way of everybody having a chill time.

SONG OF THE DAY: Cumbia de los Ovnis

I hope that racist America’s love of taco trucks eventually allows cumbia music to be more prominent as well. I want local cumbia acts far out of traditional Mazatlan. It’s impossible not to think about what an idiot J.D. Vance is when discussing such a subject, but if the U.S. Senate was made up of more cumbia musicians than venture capitalists, we’d have a much better legislature. Of course, cumbia musicians know better than to be politicians. Only assholes wanna make rules over everybody.

SONG OF THE DAY: It Really Doesn't Matter (kudzu'd)

Every time I listen to Zapp, I think, “wow, I don’t listen to enough Zapp.” And I listen to a lot of Zapp.

SONG OF THE DAY: Riding High (kudzu'd)

One of my favorite 45s to play slowed down. Wish I had 9 copies of it. This track got sampled a lot, most famously by EPMD probably, and showed up on a couple DJ Screw tapes too. Screw tapes, as they got digitized, often got mislabeled, so the most common versions of this track of a Screw tape are credited to Rick James. But it’s a group called Faze-O, who was almost like The Ohio Players B-team. I always make fun of the state of Ohio (for good reason), but man, it’s actually pretty crazy the funk history of Dayton. The Ohio Players, Faze-O, Zapp, Slave, Lakeside… all from Dayton. If you took that collection of groups out of hip hop sampling history, you’ve changed it immensely, especially the west coast sound. All out of Dayton? Ohio? That’s wild.

SONG OF THE DAY: Walking The Track

Obscure soul songs about walking the railroad tracks? Always gonna be something I wanna play. Where's the fried fish at? Y'all play horseshoes, right? Cornhole? Pssh, get the fuck outta here with that toddler from Ohio shit.

SONG OF THE DAY: Bl4ck B3rry Pt 1 (45s on 33)

 

All the blossoms are popping, which is extra exciting because I just moved into this place last fall, so this is the first blossom. There’s chunks of blackberry bushes I’ve gotten tangled up in already in their naked winter state back in the woods behind the house, so looking forward to what kinda filling-up-an-old-yogurt-container blackberry action I get later this calendar year. Good lessons from nature in the springtime, notably fuck your everyday shit, put on something bright as fuck and almost ridiculous looking now and then. That’s why I’ve got the blaze orange GK top and some garish bright orange Polo socks pulled up to knees, big ass tropical camouflage cargo shorts, looking like a fuckin’ fool that ought not to be dressing themselves. In my opinion, if you’re going full natural perspective in this bullshit world, that’s the only way to dress. “Professional” or “stylish” fashion is product trying to get you to assimilate into indistinguishable likeness. Would you rather be a blackberry bush, or a redbud popping in the spring time, or part of an endless row of enslaved corn plants trapped in fucking Indiana or Ohio or some shit? (Please don’t say the enslaved corn, but I bet a bunch of folks actually think that way, that being a goddamned genetically modified unsweet corn stalk in soulless Ohio is the most patriotic freedom-minded existence possible. Y’all stupid. Go get tangled up in blackberry bushes with your narrow-minded ass.)