Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Old school funk for the true funk soldiers

I have a cousin named Carl. He's pretty cool. He's a calm and laid back fella who spends most of his days smoking pot and watching KOCE. [Oh the things one can do once you reach retirement.] I tend to play music all the ffing time, and it always varies. For example this morning I had Pink's Who Knew stuck in my head as I got out of bed so I played that, and now I am blasting a mix I made with the likes of Wolfmother, the Ark, and Radio 4 on it. [Look at me! I'm name dropping!] So Carl often chimes in when he walks by, repeating a line from a song I have playing, or randomly singing some lyric from a jam he has stored in that brain of his. As I stood at the sink this morning rinsing my coffee mug, Carl strolled by singing aloud to himself, "don't give up! You've got the devil in you" or something along those lines. I knew right off that bat that I had heard those words before, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. And then it hit me:

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