I have to take a little break from the countdown for some quality family time. We are celebrating my oldest son's birthday at an indoor water park all weekend long. So, expect more '90s hits on Monday. In the meantime, enjoy some fine music featuring dysfunctional families, circa 1977, 1978 and 1979, respectively.
"We're a Happy Family" from 'Rocket to Russia,' arguably the best album from a string of four (or five, if you're in a giving mood) greats between 1976 and 1980.
Sitting here in Queens, eating refried beans
We're in all the magazines, gulpin' down Thorazines
We ain't got no friends, our troubles never end
No Christmas cards to send, daddy likes men
Daddy's telling lies, baby's eating flies
Mommy's on pills, baby's got the chills
I'm friends with the president, I'm friends with the Pope
We're all making a fortune, selling daddy's dope
"Found a Job" from Talking Heads. They can't find anything on television. The couple can create better programming, right? Not only was it not that difficult, but it saved the relationship. From 'More Songs About Buildings and Food,' one of my all-time favorites.
"Damn that television ... what a bad picture!"
"Don't get upset, It's not a major disaster."
"There's nothing on tonight," he said, "I don't know
what's the matter!"
"Nothing's ever on," she said, "so ... I don't know
why you bother."
We've heard this little scene, we've heard it many times.
People fighting over little things and wasting precious time.
They might be better off ... I think ... the way it seems to me.
Making up their own shows, which might be better than T.V.
Judy's in the bedroom, inventing situations.
Bob is on the street today, scouting up locations.
They've enlisted all their family.
They've enlisted all their friends.
It helped saved their relationship,
And made it work again ...
"On Any Other Day." Find it on 'Reggatta de Blanc,' not one of my all-time favorites. I'm realizing this post supports the argument gay bashing was a popular sport back in the day. Have a great weekend!
There's a house on my street
And it looks real neat
I'm the chap who lives in it
There's a tree on the sidewalk
There's a car by the door
I'll go for a drive in it
And when the wombat comes
He will find me gone
He'll look for a place to sit
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
Cut off my fingers in the
Door of my car
How could I do it?
My wife is proud to tell me
Of her love affairs
How could she do this to me?
April #2: Jarvis Feels Chilly
3 hours ago