![]() ![]() And it would need to be investigated by people who aren't invested in any particular outcome. But even if they did, it wouldn't prove the existence of the afterlife, it would be something else. I mean I'd be the first one to express delight if they ever come up with something that was genuinely novel and interesting after all the years they've been on TV. It's like when you watch a show like Ghost Hunters. You would think that people who believe in the wonder and miracle of God's creation would be overflowing with ideas like that, but for some reason they always dry up when challenged. If you make an assertion that a process can't work without divine intervention, the burden of proof is on you to explain at what specific point the intervention occurred, and what kind of event that was, and what did it do exactly. If you want to support me, making it more financially viable and easier to explain to people at parties, please back my patreon.The reason ideas like Intelligent Design don't get any traction is because the people who promote those ideas never provide any details. Queen: An Exploded Diagram is me having big and little thoughts about every Queen song in chronological order. ![]() Also, if you watch the whole Jim Henson tribute and don’t cry a little, I don’t want to know you. *Actually also originally from the Snoopy Musical. And by training us to constantly shift up and down in beat and rhythm and mood and mode, the song even sits well in the record.Īnd you’re going to have it jammed in your head for months. Play for the audience, revel in the theatre. Tonally, it’s different to the rest of the album, but it’s still just an extension of the logic of Killer Queen and Stone Cold Crazy. (Could that be a motto for this project?)Ĭommit to the notion of a tribute to one guy, by singing about bringing back another, and doing it in the style of something even further else, and it all works. It’s got a lot of highlights, basically, as long as you’re willing to give yourself over to the logic of it. It’s that or the old timey electioneering of ‘we want Leroy for president’. Everything slows, and the harmonies soften, only for the whole thing to storm back into near full charleston. My favourite moment is actually the breakdown. Everything is artificially aged except the energy, which actually feels parallel to barn stormer Stone Cold Crazy. Barbershop harmonies bounce off dixieland ukulele-banjo, double bass fills and jangle piano (which is a piano with drawing pins or equivalent in the hammers). I feel like only Freddie would toast a recently deceased hero with such a ludicrous vaudeville melodrama.Īpparently, Tin Pan Alley, is what it’s supposed to be calling back to. I tend to dabble with labelling, but only when I feel like the genre name is onomatopaeic enough (or the nearest equivaent) to make sense whether you know the strict meaning or not.Īnyway, it turns out that this isn’t a tribute to the music hall, it’s a tribute to Jim Croce. I’m a pretty unreliable narrator at the best of times, but particularly when it comes to genre definition. ![]() Which is basically to say, that my childhood was a mush of schmaltz and smeared semiotics that I still can’t really make any sense of. Songs from Snoopy, the Muppets*, Cole Porter and indeed, Jim Croce merged with what I saw as one particular part of musical theatre history. But this is how I first came into contact with a lot of what I think of as music hall type performances.Īctually, it’s a hodge podge of references. I still don’t know whether to be embarrassed by this part of my history (well, apart from the brief part as Commissioner Gordon, which I have repressed utterly). When Scouts and Guides got together and sang songs in a variety style. My first contact with bad bad was in Gang Show, see. So, there I was, assuming this was a tribute to music hall vaudeville, and it actually turns out that that isn’t the origin of Bad, bad, Leroy Brown, and actually this is Freddie’s elegy to some guy I’d never heard of. ![]()
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