Denver Music Blog

​There's nothing wrong with white people doing hip-hop -- if it was ever in question, I think Eminem proved that. And there's certainly nothing wrong with rappers loving Jesus. I mean, how many hip-hop albums don't thank the Christ, his dad, or both in the liner notes? So it logically follows that this video doesn't have to be the worst thing ever invented ... yet it is. This is "Christian Side Hug" and it is horrific. It's four and a half minutes of the "Imperial March" theme played on a Casio keyboard while gunshot sounds and sirens ring out and the worst rappers you have ever had the misfortune to hear spew rap cliches and lecture on the danger of full-frontal hugging.

Let that soak in, because I am not even kidding.

These are "rough riders full up with Christ love" -- a direct quote! They want you to "Gimme that Christian side hug," because to hug someone from the front is a danger to your purity. This is insanity, pure and simple. So naturally, I love it. Although I am pretty certain it is the best argument ever made for either atheism, or for the fact that god is actually a hilarious practical joker -- no sincere, loving god could allow this to exist or want his followers to act this way. See for yourself after the jump.

​Before we go any further, I feel a warning is in order. Epileptics and anyone who started their day off with a hefty dose of psychedelics should stop here -- to go further is to risk madness, injury or death. The rest of you? Well, your eyes and brain may bleed a little bit, but you'll probably be all right. Today's blast of freaky comes to us from Japan, so it automatically at least 20 percent weirder than any domestic product. The song is a weird combination of broken beats, Japanese singing/rapping and chicken and video game noises. If that sounds awful, it kind of is -- it's also kind of catchy and may get stuck in your head for hours after exposure. The video that accompanies it is a Boschian progression of Buddhas, fruit, internal organs, CGI bubbles, giant robots and more, all done up in eye-scorching fluorescent candy colors. The combination? Well, it's one of the more fucked up things I have seen and heard in some time -- and I spend way too much of my time seeking this stuff out, so that is saying something. You'll find it after the jump and I hope you enjoy and/or survive it.

​Supposedly, this tender love ballad from Luke Sywalker to Leia, is a rejected song from the Empire Strikes Back soundtrack. Sure, it is. And if you believe that, I have some prime real estate on Dagoba to sell you. In any case, authentic or not, the dude managed to nail the early-'80s, cheese-ballad vibe that pervaded that era, and give me a good laugh at the Star Wars jokes and sex euphemisms throughout. This little slice of nerd heaven popped up on Topless Robot a few days ago and I've been watching it at least twice a day since, so I decided the only thing to do was share it with you. Which I have done, after the jump. Enjoy.

​Ah, Bollywood. Is there anything you can't make a cheap, poorly misunderstood copy of, add some synchronized dancing to and make infinitely better and stranger? Not if this video is to be believed. Here we have Indian Superman, who is clearly courting Indian Spider Woman. They fly around, via some of the worst special effects of all time, dancing in the air. They stop to have a synchronized dance in a courtyard full of people. Despite being largely incomprehensible it easily makes as much sense as your average comics crossover story. And it awaits you in all its lo-fi glory after the jump.

​Today's freakshow is something of an Internet classic, and no doubt many of you are already well familiar with the singing, dancing insanity of the Japanese boy-band parody "Yatta." But classics gain that status for a reason, so you can stand to watch it again so your less well-informed colleagues and aficionados of wack can immerse themselves in the deep, abiding joy that is "Yatta." As mentioned, it's a parody of boy-band and J-pop silliness from Japan, so it has that distinctively off-the-wall sensibility that most Japanese comedy has. It also may be slightly NSFW, depending on how your workplace feels about Japanese men prancing about it tighty-whities with giant green leaves emblazoned on the front. If that's something you'll get away with, then enjoy the video after the jump.

​What separates the bulk of weird, wackaloon amateur singer/songwriters from someone like Wesley Willis or Daniel Johnston? Talent, certainly, but the math alone insists there are more than those scattered gems among the depths of crazy people with microphones. And occasionally you stumble across one that, at first glance, is just another hilarious nutter, but upon deeper examination ... well, is a hilarious nutter with that something special.Today, I present Mark Gormley. Despite his strange, high, ululating voice and uber-dork demeanor, there's something strangely appealing about Gormley. Maybe it's just sleep deprivation or low-blood sugar or something, but I have to say that this song is actually pretty great, in a way similar to how Johnston is great. The difference is, no one famous is talking this dude up, really. But that's okay, Mark. I still think you're awesome. Feel the magic after the jump.

​Among the many accomplishments of the power of networked computing, I consider the elevation of karaoke from hilarious drunken pastime to even more hilarious high art one of the greatest. See, YouTube and other video/audio hosting services have allowed many, many thousands of aspiring singers to attempt to karaoke their way to fame and fortune. Some have even succeeded! Dudes like the new singers of Journey and Boston, for example, both of whom were discovered online singing their favorite bands' hits in eerily similar styles to the original singers. Or dudes like the one and only André Berlin, who you can see here singing the timeless hit "Beauty School Dropout" from Grease.. For bonus points, he's singing it shirtless, while lit in a way that makes it appear half his face has melted into the ethereal realm. He also takes the occasional opportunity to mug ferociously for the camera in a way that helps lift this over the top. Somehow, I think Mr. Berlin actually has a big future in Germany, where he's from -- they seem to eat this kind of off-the-wall shit right up. Which, to be fair, so do I, when you come right down to it. The video awaits after the jump.

​Today's entry has been growing on me for a few days. It's an AutoTuned cutup of Carl Sagan's Cosmos turned into a loving ode to science and our stellar potential that sounds like it could be a lost track from Boards of Canada or one of those other "listening electronica" acts from the late '90s. It's smart and nerdy and beautiful, just like the woman who showed it to me. Oh, and Stephen Hawking does a guest verse, which is fucking awesome. MC Hawking FTW!

It's also garnered half a million views in the two weeks it's been on the nets, so if you've already seen it, I apologize. Wait, no I don't. Just watch it again. It's a good reminder that, "If we don't destroy ourselves, we will, one day, venture to the stars." Fuck yes, Mr. Sagan. That's a message we need to think about more often.

​Are you familiar with "Slash" fiction? It's a venerable strain of Star Trek fan fiction that posits a homosexual relationship between Kirk and Spock. Well, today's video cuts up episodes of the old animated Star Trek series in such a way as to suggest the glory days of slash fic, lays William Shatner's cover of Pulp's "Common People" behind it and creates what I believe is the world's first slash-up. With such awesome individual components, how could the sum total be anything less than uber-awesome? It marks the first time anyone's had an encore appearance on Freaky Friday (Shatner's "I Can't Get Behind That" was featured a while back), but that is just a testament to what a weird dude he is. Oh, and any douchebag commenter that feels the need to leave comments reading "Totally gay"? This is one time it is completely appropriate. It is gay. See it after the jump.

​Today's video is an object lesson in how good intentions (bringing the diverse children of the world to Jesus) combined with raw ignorance and ethnic insensitivity can, with the benefit of a little time, lead to pure, unbridled hilarity. It's a clip reportedly taped off a public access show some years back (mid-'90s perhaps?) and it's a bizarre, farcical puppet rendition of the old-time classic "Jesus Loves the Little Children." Only here, the children are racist stereotypes that would make Franklin, Gob's offensive puppet sidekick from Arrested Development, blush in embarrassment. And they even come complete with their own, ethnically themed and wholly offensive musical cues! Gape in slack-jawed awe at the ignorance, after the break. And thanks to fellow Westword scribe Quibian Salazar-Moreno for turning me on to this.

​There is very little that needs to be said to put across the basic idea of Van Canto. Three words, in fact, are really all I need: a capella metal (er, is that two words? whatever). Not that I'm going to stop there -- there's no way I can resist heaping it on a bit. Yes, this is a band that does metal -- in the case of the tune I've found for you, it's what I like to call D&D metal, the kind full of dragons and swords and shit -- a cappella. They make the guitar, bass and other sounds with their voices. With a drummer. So you have a guy pounding out some metal beats, plus four guys and a chick who are all either singing dramatic lyrics about masters and apprentices and what not or going "deedley-deedley-deedley-dum-dum-dum" for four and half minutes. While making faux-scary "metal faces." It's German, I'm pretty sure it's meant to be taken seriously (mind you, Germans take David Hasselhoff seriously as a musician, so...) and utterly, mind-meltingly ridiculous. And you can find it by clicking through to the jump.

Photo by Klaus Höpfner

​Some things in life simply cannot be explained; today's video is one of those things. It is as inexplicable as alien abduction phenomena or David Hasselhoff's popularity as a singer in Germany. I have no idea where this comes from or how it came to be. It could be a particularly bizarre artifact of the '80s, a more contemporary parody or something that slipped into this universe from a parallel dimension. Describing it would only spoil its impact, so I'm just going to ask you to click through and watch a short instructional video on how bread is made. Have a little patience -- the first few seconds are a little slow, but it gets good before long. And by good, I mean, "Holy shit, what am I looking at and what on earth does it have to do with making bread?" It's a short one -- just under a minute and a half -- but I can all but guarantee you're going to want to watch it twice. Or more. It awaits after the jump...

​Part life lesson, part novelty rap and all awesome, this entry into the canon of freak comes from '80s icon Mr. T. It's hard to believe now, in the cold hard light of not-the-'80s, but for whatever reason Mr. T was quite the phenomenon back in the day. He was the breakout star of the A-Team, easily one of the most ridiculous shows ever put on the air. That resulted in the man getting a cartoon show, a breakfast cereal and the odd little nugget of insanity like this clip. While you're watching it, you may find cause to ask yourself, "How did this ever come to be? What the fuck was wrong with the '80s? And where can I get a pair of short-shorts like that?" I can't answer these questions -- no one can -- but luckily, I don't have to: the video speaks for itself.

​As you watch and listen to today's selection, you will ask yourself: "Is this a joke? A Parody? Is it the cleverest thing I've seen all week, or the stupidest?" By the end you will know, but I don't want to ruin the fun. You'll also have the deliriously simple and utterly ridiculous hook of this track stuck in your head. You'll be lucky if you don't end up randomly shouting it out, like some kind of tourette's victim -- I did for a day or two afterward, much to my fiancee's chagrin. To give you an idea of what to expect, this is hip-hop. Sort of. Imagine the weakest, most repetitive and primitive beat you've ever heard -- something like a clever ten-year-old might cook up the first time he lays hands on Fruity Loops. Over this, layer the most offensive, sexist, misogynist, violent and laughably clumsy spectacle of a rap. And then illustrate the whole thing with an awkward, crappy CGI-heavy video that's like a mildly brain-damaged version of a hip-hop fantasy land. That's Chuggo's "Ah, C'mon" in a nutshell. And in case it isn't obvious, this is not particularly safe for work, due to all that sexism, misogyny and liberal use of the word "fuck," not to mention lots of thong-clad stripper ass. In any case, it awaits you after the jump.

​Sometimes, I have to search far and wide to bring you something special from the land of ridiculous. Other times, they just fall into my lap. Like today, when this gem appeared in my inbox as if by magic, delaying the still-awesome video I was going to offer up today. This was just too good not to share. It's an unbelievably geeky rap about high-performance bikes made with tongue firmly in cheek. Now, until a year or so ago, when someone close to me was sucked in to this strange cult of "bike people" I didn't even know such things existed outside of the 1979 cycling film Breaking Away. Now I am all too aware of the allure that carbon frames and high-end brakes can have on certain, susceptible types, so this hit the funny spot for me. Also, this video makes fun of hipsters something fierce, which I am always down with. See it for yourself after the jump, and special thanks to Brandon Prott for tweeting the link, leading directly to me seeing it. Nice one, Brandon.

​Another Friday, another shot of fucking weird. This one is an old favorite of mine that I stumbled upon while working in the YouTube mines. It's a surreal, absurd look at our nation's greatest founder, George Washington. And while it omits some of the tried and true myths about him -- no cherry-tree chopping here -- it does add a whole slew of new ones, like the little known tidbit that he had four testicles. It's probably not safe for work, depending on how your work feels about rapping about Washington's dick, his hatred of British children and the cartoon depiction of bestial sex, random violence and gratuitous drug use. Supposing that's all okay (it is at the Westword offices), go nuts -- otherwise, you should probably at least put on some headphones. And if you have time, check out some of the creator's other videos. There are some other gems mixed in there as well.

​Japan offers us this week's entry into the weird of the world. The song is "Hibi no Neiro" by Japanese group Sour. It's actually quite a nice little tune, sort of like a Japanese Belle and Sebastian who stop for a psych-rock/free jazz freakout now and then -- which I guess is weird enough, if you think about it. But the video here is something else. It's a psychedelic exercise in applied webcam awesomeness that comes out like a surreal 21st century version of the Brady Bunch opening credits, only the Brady's heads sometimes get welded together and the occasional dude in a Mexican wrestling mask shows up. So, nothing like that at all, but I think you get the idea. Or you will once you hit the jump and watch it yourself.

 For this week's entry into the annals of WTF, I bring you you something really, really special. And by special, I mean like the kids at your school that rode their own, efficiency-sized bus and had to wear helmets even though they weren't on any team. It's an unbelievably weird attempt at rapping that, although I am no hip-hop expert, I feel safe in saying may be the worst rap ever . It may be about God, or something. Revelation is mentioned in the title, after all. He also mentions chicken pox... It's just really hard to say, because my mind shuts down after about thirty seconds of direct exposure. I am sure that whatever his message is, this can't be the best way to express it -- and if it is, his message sucks, anyway. Oh, and if you're particularly taken by this piece of genius, Wehbe says he is "Looking for someone to sign this song on to the next level." I assume by that he means the next level of hell. Oh -- an I didn't even mention his outfit: it speaks for itself. In any case, the video awaits you after the jump.

Our weekly voyage into the sheer WTFuckery of the web delivers us to the insufferable presence of Folerio. This pencil-mustached, bewigged hipster paragon apparently has a real, honest-to-god record deal, a fact that makes me want to hit myself in the face with a shovel. And you'll want to hit yourself (or him, perhaps) with a shovel, too, once you hear the rinky-dink, "can't be bothered to even fake it" musical backing and awkward, annoying spoken-word performance, see the incredibly creepy (even if it is supposed to be ironic -- I mean, that is supposed to be ironic, right?), stalkerish, video love letter to the teenaged Alyssa Milano and realize that, yes, Western civilization has come to an end, when this kind of crap is created and perpetuated not by deranged amateurs desperately unaware of their own lack of talent, but as a commercial offering by a deranged hipster desperate for ... attention? a supplement to his trust fund? the validation that comes from pulling off a prank that allows you to release this on an actual record label? In any case, the video awaits you after the jump.

For this week's Freaky Friday entry, we go a touch more mainstream than usual. You may have already seen this a few hundred times, and if so I apologize, but there are folks, like me, out there that live in a self-imposed mass media exile. I don't watch television (not until football season, anyway) so I don't see commercials. So when someone sends me something like this, which someone did yesterday, I find myself confounded by the fact that something so fucking weird could be a mainstream, mass-market commercial. I mean sure, babies are cute, but these babies ... they're creepy. Scary, inhuman evil babies. Dancing to "Rapper's Delight." On rollerskates. That is the very essence of freaky, and I am not going to let its mainstream ubiquity remove it from contention. So for those of you that haven't seen it, and for those that just want to watch it again, the video is after the jump. (Warning: Combining with strong hallucinogens is NOT recommended).

Happy Freaky Friday on Thursday, since Westword is closed tomorrow! For a special Fourth of July treat, I give you this reason to love America, in all its glory. I have never been more proud that the USA declared their independence from tyrant Britain as I was when watching this atrocious ode to fast food from British pop group the Fast Food Rockers. Sure we have Britney Spears, but this piece of crap reached #2 in the British pop charts (according to infallible Wikipedia, anyway). I swear to god, my IQ dropped ten points while I was watching it. Conversely, I think I gained six pounds. It's not only stupid beyond all measure, dangerously catchy (seriously, you're going to have this stuck in your head all damn day) but it's also more than a bit disturbing -- there are some sexually suggestive things going on with the fast food and big blue dog in this video that I do not feel at all comfortable with. See the best reason ever to be glad America went its own way, after the jump (and happy Independence Day).

This week's adventure in freakiness comes from the very early days of MTV, and the very latest days of former Monkees member Mike Nesmith's solo career (wait, he had a solo career?). And I have to say that it is an amazing exercise in sheer WTF from the first frame to the very last. The song? A bizarro, repetitive keyboard vamp with sorta-spoken, sorta-sung lyrics that tell an utterly off-the-wall story of Hollywood sleaze. The video? An equally bizarre enactment of that story, interspersed with footage of Nesmith getting his groove on in various ridiculous outfits. The net result? Just under four minutes of epic insanity from our nation's rich pop culture history. See it after the jump

Your appreciation of today's clip is likely to be wholly dependent on your affection (or lack thereof) for foul-mouthed puppets rapping about old-school video games. If you read that and said 'Holy shit, I can die happy now," you will be thrilled -- otherwise, this may not be quite your thing. Thanks go out to fellow VVM blogger Rob Bricken of the awesome geek blog Topless Robot for tipping me off to this earlier this week (by the way, if you think foul-mouthed puppets rapping about video games is awesome, Topless Robot should be daily reading for you). This is possibly (probably?) NSFW, depending on your workplace's tolerance of puppets dropping the N-bomb (I ain't talking Nintendo here) and puppet sex. You've been warned -- now go watch it anyway.

After last week's brief hiatus (I hope you missed me), Freaky Friday returns with a slice of vintage '70s cheese from the wondrous land of Denmark: Tommy Seebach's "Apache." The song itself is a silly disco throwaway based around a repetitive riff, some wakka-wakka guitar effects and a typically meaningless vocal. On its own, it wouldn't qualify as much more than an amusing artifact of cheap, foreign disco novelty. But pair it with the weird video (unfairly labeled "Worst video ever" by the uploader of this version, the best I could find audio-wise) which features some sort of pagan-hippie, wannabe Native American camping trip fueled by Quaaludes and magic mushrooms, and you've got yourself the perfect antidote to working for the rest of the afternoon. It awaits you after the jump.

This Freaky Friday is a slow burn. You will start off wondering what the fuck is wrong with me for posting this (well, I expect a lot of you always wonder exactly that). Then you will begin to be transfixed by Ms. Terri's troll-like countenance and her sad, sad tale of "Losing You." You will become hypnotized by the absurd amateurism of both the music and, most especially, the videography. The long, slow pan shots of ... nothing. The languid, almost disinterested way Terri lip synchs while all but refusing to look at the camera. The awesome mullet on her boyfriend and her own special style. Then, you'll notice that despite the banal lyrics ("I don't want to lose you tonight, cause you're the only thing that matters") and super cheap, tinny production, the song is strangely catchy. Seriously, I've been walking around all afternoon singing it, and it's freaking me out a little. Damn you Jan Terri, you've won this time! You will not lose me tonight. The rest of you can make up your own mind, after the jump.

This week's Freaky Friday is something truly special. Let me set the scene: It's 1986 or '87, somewhere in the Midwest. A grocery store wholesaler marketing and sales manager with delusions of grandeur alights upon a brilliant idea: let's force our sales team to recreate the "Super Bowl Shuffle" as a motivational tool for our yearly superbroker contest! And thus, the video you are about to see was born.

Photo by Suguri_F

This week's entry into the Freaky Friday canon is both fun and educational. It's a little ditty called "Sashimi" and it will teach you a thing or two about that Japanese delicacy in the course of burning its horrid, horrid melody inexorably into your brain. It's the work of a woman named Keyboard Cathy who looks like a librarian who shares her home with many cats and reminds me of a low-key, less blatantly bizarre (yet still plenty freaking weird) version of Leslie Hall. And she loves -- loves -- her some sashimi. See, it's like sushi, only without the rice. After the jump, learn even more...

President Barack Obama has just passed his historic first 100 days in office and what better way to look back on it than via a goofy YouTube mashup via the magic of AutoTune? None. None better way, I say. And so I present to you "Obama Flashback," a look at some of the highs, but mostly lows, of his first 100 days, as AutoTune turns it all into automagical robot goodness -- especially the wingnut TV talking heads getting all frothy at various "transgressions" and Glen Beck singing to a cow. Yeah, really. If only they had waited to include Hannity's ultimately stupid "elitist European condiment" line. Ah well, there's always the first year recap! Video awaits after the jump!

Dusty Cowshit: huge in Norway.

Yes, we know it isn't Friday yet, and Freaky Friday is typically Cory's domain, but this was too good to pass up -- or off, for that matter. We're going to go out on a limb here and assume that nobody reading this has ever heard of Dusty Cowshit. Or maybe you are familiar with their unique brand of "shithole Colorado" music that harkens back to the old Wild West "golden age of Billy the Kid," according to their website. If so, you must be from Norway, where the nine-piece "cowboy polka orchestra" is fucking huge, playing at festivals and on award shows for the Norse version of MTV.

Hey look, it's Vince! You probably know him as ShamWow guy or SlapChop guy or "getting arrested for fighting with a hooker" guy, but thanks to the skills of DJ Steve Porter, the powers of AutoTune and the wonder of YouTube, his true purpose in life as "surreal robo-rapping manic elf" guy is about to be revealed. Watch, listen and learn as Vince sells you the SlapChop in a mind-melting breakbeat track, all for the low, low price of nothing (the video, that is -- I assume you still have to pay for the SlapChop, which I'm sure it is worth every penny).