Word: rags
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...DIFFERENT VEIN, Bromberg creates a hybrid of dixie-land and rock around Gus Cannon's "Stealin'," producing a sound interesting enough to justify its appearence as yet another version of that frequently recorded rag. On this cut, as throughout the album, Bromberg holds himself back, never displaying the sheer virtuousity he has shown himself to be capable of. At the start of the song, for example, he offers only a few bars of tasty rag picking before drowning the guitar out in a melange of horns, mandolin, bass and drums. Although the absence of flash is somewhat disappointing, Bromberg...
Daltrey is "alright" with rousing versions of "Say It Ain't So, Joe" and "Avenging Annie;" he picks up these old rag dolls and brings them back to life in a way that outshines the originals...
...Boys" is the title cut and stands as Roger Daltrey's parody (if not attack) on British punk rock. For those of us who know Daltrey, it is a familiar rag, only because it parleys Daltrey's working class consciousness. Daltrey once told a reporter he was happiest to be a rock musician because "it kept him out of the factories." Daltrey's self-styled punk star of the song "is a face in the mirror that may give you a fright," a narcissistic star who graces the cover of the album, "but he's alright," the song reassures...
...bowls, three bean salad, and, beginning last year, Feedback. And what, you rightfully ask, is Feedback? It would. I suppose, be too facile to simply answer, "Just what the name implies." It seems that the Food Services were recently bequeathed several million reams of top-quality 100 per cent rag content paper and have hired both a dead codfish and retired songstress Hildegard Knish (pronounced K'nish) to write their publicity releases. (Just how come the Harvard University Food Services saw fit to get into the one-page magazine business in the first place is totally beyond me.) Anyhow...
...climax comes in Morton's rendition of "Tiger Rag:" Jim leaps wildly between dance steps, skitters through others, as Lorry flicks a shoulder to off-accented beats. As at a dress ball dragging into the early morning hours, we glimpse odd expressions and actions we're not sure happened at all. The Mays pretend we don't exist; we catch them unawares...