“I’m not one for showing off. But I guess my guitar-playing sticks out.”
Rest in peace, Bert Jansch. I have loved your music ever since I discovered your 1965 self-titled debut record in Twisted Village’s legendary Cambridge basement store. I have since collected several others, and I will cherish them forever. You were better than Nick Drake.
and Donovan loved you maybe most of all.
there are two of them!
For those skeptical as to the veracity of my claim as to his superior musical sens-abilities, here’s Fahey’s version for comparison. By no means a bad recording, just not as good as Bert Jansch’s masterpiece.
To be fair, I believe he did record a better version of the song at some point, though I’m too lazy to go digging through my records to verify this, but I have done extensive surveys with that version, and the vote is unanimous…after playing the two songs back to back, Bert’s version kills it.
Anyways, enough with that shit, right? Here’s another amazing song by Bert.
He was also a founding member of the band Pentangle.
Blues Run the Game
Bert Jansch play’s “Angie”
And that’s how you play a guitar.
Langer’s Deli at the corner of Alvarado and 7th in MacArthur Park perfected pastrami. Hands down, the best in Los Angeles. However, Gourmet Magazine ranked it at a mere #2. My colleague and I discussed its rating over lunch and we can’t even make up something that is totally absurd that would make it better. If it was served by a naked Jessica Alba with an Iggy Popp waiter it would still carry the same prowess of Earth’s Mightiest Sandwich. It’s like the realization of the Rosetta Stone, invention of the tin can, and discovery of Santo Domingue all-in-one. It is the finest achievement of Western Civilization. Christmas and the fork bow to the Pastrami at Langer’s. And then there is the perfectly frosted mugs that make a Bud Light to a Langer’s Pastrami sandwich what the Roosevelt Corollary To The Monroe Doctrine is to the Monroe Doctrine. But seriously, the rye bread tastes like it is made from the Emperor’s private grain stash, the Cole Slaw oozes with a Russian Dressing that Rasputin used to revive himself time-and-time again, the Swiss Cheese tastes like the Alps look, and the Pastrami is prepared like a Blitzkrieg. Except it loves Jews. And I love it.
I’m going to seek out this #1 deli in L.A. and I guess lose weight eating it because that’s the only thing that could make it better. And then I’ll ride a unicorn over to God’s House and hurl Iraqi WMDs down at Langer’s in sole allegiance to #1.
Brett Favre, one of football’s “all-time best QBs” announced his retirement yesterday. Which in my opinion is for pussies. I mean, I don’t have a job, so I’m not necessarily one to lecture about work ethics, but dude’s still got a few good seasons left in him for sure. Plus, retirement scares the shit out of me. I mean, whats left? A few years of banality and boredom while your body whithers away to nothingness and then you die. GREAT. Sign me up. Maybe we the NFL should set up a seniors league. That would actually be hilarious. Can you imagine the number of bones broken during one game of senior football? And who doesn’t LOVE watching old people suffer?
In other news, I read part of an article by Heidi Przybyla today about how “Obama has an ‘Archie Bunker’ problem.” Well, guess what, I got beef with that guy too. He was a jerk. And as far as Obama goes, at least I know how to pronounce his name without having to consult any European pronunciation guide. Przybyla. I have no idea how one would pronounce that. Perhaps the author in question should spend a little more time thinking about THAT: how her name effects other people, and a little LESS time worrying about Obama’s problems.