You’ll briefly meet “Fuckface McFuckall the Fuckface Boy” – and wonder what he’s been up to.
But let’s take a step up. Commercial radio is so bad that I end up listening to sports and talk radio. It’s so bad that, driving, you almost weep when a song comes on that you like. I’ve got the country’s fifth biggest city on my doorstep and there’s 57 channels and nothing above a drone.
If network news represents the girl in Flowers In The Attic – then commercial radio is Terry Schiavo – lifeless and twitching for years but no one will admit it.
Fuck commercial radio (and I’m truly sorry about Schiavo)
So the world’s become a mob of iPod people. As sinister as that sounds it’s not a bad thing because no one is in control but you. The variety and mix of songs and entertainment iPods offer are the ultimate niche market.
At the same time, if you grabbed anyone’s iPod and flicked it on you’d like something about it. You’d like it because it would reflect Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumblebee” next to Blind Melon’s “B Girl” next to Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” and Selfish Fools (right Mondo?) cover of “My Prerogative.” In short, it would be what radio used to be – a mix that might capture five of your moods and another eight next time you turn it on.
As a welcome derivative we have podcasting where the DJ actual has … gasp … a personality. Many people will not remember that this was ever the case.
This gentle introduction opens the door to one Mondo Irlando.
The door has opened, like the Ark in Raiders of … to two podcasts and 75 minutes and 7 seconds of an Irish Wolf Hound’s accent and growl.
And the first time you listen to Mondo – aka Aaron aka The Duke aka go search his site for his real name – fascination, relief and inspiration are the overriding feelings as you realize what radio could be.
The second time you listen, the fast forward button is your favorite friend.
Podcast 1 – 40:46
Soundtrack to a Primal Scream
Ice-T – Ice Ice Motherfucking T, Lucinda Williams – Too Cool To Be Forgotten, Derek and Clive, Selfish Cunt – My Prerogative and Billy Bragg – You Woke Up My Neighborhood
If you didn’t know better, the first 14 seconds of introduction from Mondo and his Irish glide would take you back to the voice of World War II news broadcasts.
I knew better. Then comes the R-rated Obscenity Disclaimer
I’m not saying I’d be in celebration mode if Ice-T was blaring out of someone’s house or on the street. But in a place where everyone is expecting it – abso – fucking- lutely. The man is a GBH genius of aural anger.
“[Lucinda Williams] don’t be thinking it’s going to be like Ice-T. Lucinda Williams probably isn’t going to say mother fuck … once.” As best an intro to Lucinda as i’ve heard.
The light, ethereal tones of Williams merge into a scribbled moment of Derek and Clive, perhaps a subconsious interlude, because it proves that someone who swears like the collective chunky-breathed legions of a 100 pubs, can become wildly successful and marry a film superstar or two. We’re talking Dudley Moore here (was he Derek?)
Following are all the highlights of an 18-minute-long film review …
… Or how I’d stalk Kirsten Dunst if stalking wasn’t so fucking sad and pathetic – so instead I’ll wax poetic.
Lays out the best moments – and their exact times in the movie – of the 1999 film Dick. For some unfathomable reason the best moments involve Kirsten Dunst removing and putting on clothes and talking about Deep Throat. He also asks Kirsten Dunst to look back at Dick or something equally perverted.
Next up … is the offering of a great cover of Bobby Brown’s My Prerogative. See Britney Spear’s version is good because of the breathiness. This version by the Selfish Fool’s (right? nudge nudge, wink wink say mo more.) is good because of the music and the attitude. Awesome. Sorry, I mean brilliant.
The songs come as something off a relief, mostly because the song choice is great. But also because a lot of talking while anticipating a good song can get long-winded.
2 of 2
Soundtrack to Aplooh Erocne: The Apocalypse Special 34:21
Mondo leads off Round Two with British 80s rappers Derek B and Betty Boo (Doin The Do) and a remix dance compilation of the Stock, Aitken and Waterman stable. And an exclusive demo of Milli Vanilli actually singing Technotronic tunes.
Then in a surreal moment this formerly admitted heathen seems to undergo an on-air religous conversion and starts in about the evil Satan and how we can all be redeemed if we believe. Now true, it’s not a belief in Jesus he’s asking but instead the infallible truth that Hannibal Lecter is the resurrection of Jeremiah.
At least that’s what I got out of it. Your experience may differ. More objectively (not really) here’s what transpired during what will come to be known as the Irlando Incident Part Deux:
SONGS: NWA – F**k Tha Police … Eminem – Encore (excerpt) … Mondo – Fuck Tha Police (excerpt) … Nina Gordon – Straight Outta Compton …. Charles Manson – Look At Your Game Girl …. Mondo – Siren of the Second Year
Mondo announces he doesn’t want to Fuck Tha Police, but would rather chastise the police. Also welcomed to your ears is Mondo’s own vocal rendition of backwards-playing Judas Priest and Eminem. Mercifully short because God is merciful.
Then he has an interview with Natas. Then he interviews Charles Manson in the way Chris Rock interviews OJ. And pretty much as funny. IE funny. Mondo tries to plug his Web site to Chuck but he’s not having any of it.
All through comes the Irish accent that allows the third rail of language – vulgarity – to become a desensitized buzz.
And I may never ever ever have heard Nina Gordon’s reworking of “Straight Outta Compton.” Funny to hear and poignant, and it works. She could have renamed it “Angels an’ Ice.” Think Britney Spears covering GWAR. Well, except for the whole “GWAR’s vocalists can sing better than the Spearster” thing.
Mondo offers one of his own cover tracks – and why not. Here we clearly see where Beck got his inspiration for “Bogusflow.” (I think that’s the correct timeline of events and inspires).
But all in all the overall lesson, as the seventh second of the 75th minute expires, is that self-sung bumpers are not the way to go. Oh and also, that with the help of pie charts and research you can meet Satan at a busstop – which, the same research shows – is the best place to wait for a bus.
I hope it wasn’t a sign of anything that up next on my iTunes random was Orbison’s “Only The Lonely.”
NB: The above is what it is, tossed off to amuse myself and anyone else who can figure it out. Criticize away because I’ll probably agree with you.