Halloween 2021
B: alrighty, kids. You know what today is?
Chorus: HALLOWEEN!
B: it's always halloween in my head, why's today special? No, it's Bottle's 3rd Book Officially Gets Published Eve. Special day, it only happens once a lifetime. Or, deathtime if you're living that Nac McFeegle reverse chronology thing. Let the festivities commence!
Chorus: mumble, mumble, mumble.
B: i think i heard a shut up and possibly a Bottle sucks in there. Awesome. Alright, we'll compromise. You guys do Burger King, i'll be Frank Sinatra. I have a greenhouse to build, we have Compy's Howlathon playlist, p(nmi)t's Lady Killer, GREGORY's Piano Recital of Doom, i'll have to take a trip for minion food and pirate juice before we imbibe White Zombie's La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Vol. 1 as tonight's album. Jam packed day of excitement if you ask me.
E: i suppose that technically qualifies as something for everyone.
S: so, how do we proceed?
B: 3, 2, 1, blast off! Space cadets ahoy!
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B: There it is, the Greenhouse of Doom!
S: that was quick.
B: i know. Only like 10 hours of actual work. Everything fit together, nothing broke, i'm suitably terrified.
S: the garden gnomes will be thrilled.
B: good for them. Now i'm off on the grocery run of doom. Minions gotta eat, am i right? Until the rumming hour.
S: ok. Toodles, then.
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It's weird noticing what is or isn't in stock, what's fresh and what's molding on the shelf, which "stand in front of the thing i want" people are shopping this time/day. Two things are for certain, though. 1) i won't get something on the list, and 2) i will overhear a private phone conversation that i wish i could manage to not remember. Thankfully, this trip is over and we're a step closer to album time. One can only hope the brain cells that now archive Mark's embarrassingly itchy personal problem will be permanently destroyed in the near future....
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Ah, welcome to the e'en of the hall of OW! Turns out i forgot to eat actual food in there somewhere, so i'm feeling rather more curmudgeonly than normal. I'm sure this sugar coated in sugar with a 3rd type of sugar drizzled on top, washed down with sugar water will help. I'm joking, real food was ingested, on with the festivities. 3 albums for this night of mystery and mayhem.
On with the ennui; let's glide into the gloam with the gloom of GREGORY's Piano Recital of Doom. This was, as you might say, a team effort. Compy Compilerson assembled an assortment of artworks featuring skeletons playing the piano. Mz. Sandra D. did what she does best and produced some mighty fine cover art. Yours truly, the Bottlemeister at large just placed as much sheet music as possible in front of GREGORY's adventures in keyboard land, and we concocted this little 3-act ode to Autumn in its multitude of metaphorical machinations. Old boney himself even surprised us with a dour tribute to our favorite month that starts with the letter O, a bit of a textural palindrome above a delicious i-bVII-#vi-V ostinato. Delightfully dour, even though i do say so myself.
What next? Ah, i know, how about a blast from the ghost of Halloween's past? p(nmi)t's Lady Killer. It the deliciously wordless soundtrack to the story of the Mistress Marauder Margaret. Bit of a bizarro Pied Piper she is, commanding a fearsome army of psychotically murderous ducks on a quest to cripple the corporate fashion industry.
Lovely, now on to the main event. You want Devil Music, i've got Devil Music, it's White Zombie's ode to plowing through crowds of zombies and spiders and space monsters in your Mustang while trying to find a good radio station to listen to. I personally don't think it needs much explanation. You got b-movie and Star Trek samples, Iggy Pop using a typewriter, as much sleaze, exploitation, and grindhouse depravity as anyone could want or handle. It's weird to call it psychedelic groove metal, but that's exactly what it is, 'cause it sounds like everyone is wearing go-go boots and stabbing vampires with sharpened broom handles. Glorious.
https://youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_m1NkMYNRiPnL7b5fLodB8nNuV8JhGOIbw
Well, that was quite a lovely last day of October. Things got done, albums got listened to, diabetes inducing levels of candy got ingested. I don't want to go back to work tomorrow, but it's hard to argue that isn't the punishment they'll give me when they track me down at dawn. Se la mort. From all of us here at Bottle of Beef, bob your head and cheers (but maybe not at the same time, you might chip a tooth).
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