Word: sound
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Suddenly your bavarian clogs are pounding against the pavement as you weave in and out of traffic. You dart between two SUVs, shake a Lexus, and high-step your way across Mass. Ave., untouched for the score. But glory like that doesn't come without hard work, dedication, and sound fundamentals. Here to help with latter are some tips from FM's personal playbook...
...Harvard legend was born. At their smoky club on Holyoke Street, the young men at the Hasty Pudding's Upstairs Bar amused themselves with rye, scotch and four-part chords. At some point on one such evening, a few of the club's men decided their ditties didn't sound bad at all. Maybe they should band together in a group. It was a fantasy of the bored and excessive, trying to entertain themselves. The boys decided their title should probably be something fun, something appropriate for women and children. Finally, the Pudding's singers rested their eyes on three...
...middle of the old Scottish air "Loch Lomond," and by the dom-dom-dom-dom-dom of "Come Go With Me," they're singing along. After 25 minutes, the boys take a collective bow and blow out of the room, leaving the bankers to their drinks. The songs sound pretty good, the showmanship is high, and the polish is extraordinary. It should be. By 1999, the group has had 53 years to get it right...
...which a few tuxedoed bodies stick out from a sea of hundreds of gushing and plaid young Catholic ladies. After each gig, the Kroks invariably make their way to the audience and lap up a few compliments, smiling broadly to middle-aged ladies who praise "the all-male sound." Interestingly, the fact that the Kroks is a boys' club isn't the only obstacle between them and political correctness; the one gay member of the group has recently decided to quit for reasons unclear. But on the whole, the polished aesthetic and masculine panache is pretty harmless...
...lounge lizards. Something there is in human beings that loves to sing. Insofar as it's a way to cut loose, to release the energies of the imagination, it's a force for good. To the extent, however, that it's a question of showing off, of loving the sound of one's own voice in the truest sense, of demanding applause and cheers from the rest of the human race, it's definitely annoying to the point of destructive. The Kroks are a little bit of both. Those who are not real musical buffs or expert managers...