Tag Archives: music

The Hat, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Welcome all you superheroes and ghost whisperers. You citizens of the great beyond. You’ve found Lisa Burton Radio, and I have a real treat for you today. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl, and my guest today is Lizzie St. Laurent. She’s a twenty-one year old college dropout working multiple jobs to keep her head above water. “Welcome to the show, Lizzie”

“Hi Lisa. Hi everyone.”

“Lizzie, it looks like your parents are fairly well off. They were able to buy you a car, and pitched in for your education. How did you get to this point in your life?”

“College was always in the plan. To pull it off, I was going to live with my grandmother, and did up until she died. Then a college friend talked me into moving in with her, and that was okay until she bailed and went home to her parents. I was stuck with the apartment, and all the bills. I had to drop out and take on an extra job to make ends meet.”

“It wasn’t possible to keep living in your grandmother’s house? Did she have a mortgage or something?”

“No. She owned it free and clear, but it was part of the estate and my uncle couldn’t wait to get his hands on the money. He wound up with the lions share, because my mom, his sister, is out on the west coast.

“I didn’t care, but I loved her and wanted a memento of some kind. He refused and tried to pass off a casino ashtray as something of hers. Maybe it was, but I wanted a house plant or something.”

“I hate it when people are like that. This brings us to a pivotal point in your life though. Tell us what you did next.”

“I, um. I stole a box of stuff from the back of the truck. Partially because I’m an heir too, and partially because I wanted something of hers. It turned out to be this crappy old hat.

“Turned out it wasn’t a hat at all. He is a creature from another dimension, and he’s trapped in the form of a hat. He’s been here for thousands of years, and his last owner was my grandfather who I barely knew.”

“I know my fashion, and it changes even for men. I can’t imagine a style stuck around for thousands of years.”

“Oh, he can change, but always as headwear. It all started out when this soldier wanted eyes in the back of his head. He paid a witch to cast a spell like that on his helmet. The spell kind of worked, but it trapped him here and bound him to the soldiers bloodline. Turns out, I’m part of that bloodline.”

“That’s pretty cool. You could always have the latest fashion just by having him change, plus you could watch for muggers behind you at night.”

“Yeah, but there’s more to it than that. He’s a complete person himself. He has a mission, and my family’s been tangled up in it for years and years. He is some kind of paranormal avenger.”

“You mean like a superhero?”

“Yeah, if you want to put it that way, only he doesn’t arrest people or beat up the bad guys, he sh – um shoots them.”

“Wait a minute. How can a hat shoot anyone?”

“He um… He uses me for that.”

“You mean he takes over your body and makes you shoot people? Like some kind of Jekyll and Hyde thing?”

“Not exactly. Most of the time it’s monsters, but sometimes it’s people. Bad people though. I went along with it to save some babies.

“It’s more like I’m there, but he’s there too. I can do things I could never do before because he can.”

“I’m not understanding that, sorry.”

“He taught me how to shoot. I can shoot a pistol with my right hand, but at the same time, he can shoot one with my left hand. I can see what he sees, and I can even sleep while he drives my car.

“You make it all sound bad, but he’s an incredible musician. He plays the upright bass. I can sing a little, so we formed a band. It brings in enough money to pay the bills. It also takes us out nights where we can protect people from bad things.”

“What do your band mates think of him?”

“They don’t know. They just see me, wearing a hat, while I play the bass and cover the vocals. It makes me nervous not having a regular paycheck, but it’s worked out so far.

“Look, there’s a lot more to it, Lisa. There is a cabin in the woods, and the hat has some other skills, like being able to find people if he’s ever met them before. I don’t know if we have time for it all today.”

“Not for nothing, Lizzie, but I’m a robot girl who also appeared in a story. As such, I have some special skills myself. I can tell those earbuds you’re wearing aren’t giving off a signal of any kind. That’s him isn’t it?”

“Um, they’re just not turned on.”

“They aren’t turned on, because they’re fake. They aren’t even giving off an electrical imprint. Why don’t you come out and talk to us? Are you shy?”

“Oh, god no. He isn’t shy at all. He wants to maintain his cover. Thinks if people hear the broadcast they’ll just think I’m some crazy girl.”

“Lizzie, I feel like we’ve only scratched the surface here. I mean your grandfather was some kind of paranormal assassin, now you are too. We just don’t have time to dive into all of it.”

“It’s okay, Lisa. Your listeners can read all about it in the book The Hat, by our mutual author C.S. Boyack. It’s been a pleasure working with you today, and I hope we can do it again soon.”

“Maybe sooner than you think. The Hat is available on Amazon and I’ll go ahead and include a purchase link. I’m also going to add one of the posters I made to promote this book, since Craig wrote it. For Lisa Burton Radio, I’m Lisa Burton.”

***

Lizzie St. Laurent is dealing with many of the struggles of young life. She lost her grandmother, and her living arrangements. Her new roommate abandoned her, and she’s working multiple jobs just to keep her head above water.

She inherits an old hat from her grandmother’s estate, but it belonged to her grandfather. This is no ordinary hat, but a being from an alternate dimension. One with special powers.

Lizzie and the hat don’t exactly hit it off right away, but when her best friend’s newborn is kidnapped by a ring of baby traffickers, Lizzie turns to the hat for help. This leads her deep into her family history and a world she’s never known.

Lizzie gives up everything to rescue the babies. She loses her jobs, and may wind up in jail before it’s over. Along the way, she and the hat may have a new way of making ends meet.

Humorous and fun, The Hat is novella length. Wonderful escapism for an afternoon.

Pick up your copy right here.

One of the posters Lisa posed for to promote this novella.

Lisa Burton

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Congratulations Mr. Boyack, it’s a book

The Hat actually published a few moments ago. Before I could update my blog, somebody already bought one, so that’s a good sign. I’m going to give you a little free written idea of what it’s all about.

Lizzie St. Laurent is a hard working girl at the beginning of the story. When her grandmother passed she lost her living arrangement, and dropped out of college to make her own way.

She winds up with something from the estate, under some odd circumstances that I won’t spoil here. It turns out to be a hat that once belonged to her grandfather. Except, this hat is actually a being from another dimension. It appears Grandpa had a bit of a history.

Add in a cluster of innocent babies, some human traffickers, and witless authorities and you get a recipe for a paranormal adventure story like no other. The only problem is that Lizzie and The Hat need to learn to work together. In fact they need to go through a kind of symbiosis to make things happen.

They choose music as a way to learn more about each other, and find a way to work together. This kind of music:

I’d be honored if you would pick up a copy and check it out. I’m only asking 99¢, because it’s a novella. This is a bonus too, because you can read it in one afternoon. Here is the purchase link. If I did it right, you can also click on the cover in my sidebar.

I need to bundle up some pre-written posts, some cool Lisa Burton artwork I’ve been holding, and send some kit out to a few hosts who’ve offered to help spread the word.

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A bit of research

Lisa walked into the paranormal office while buckling on her gun belt. She had a look of grim determination. She’d put on her jodhpurs, boots and top from the time we went on the outlining safari. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”Lisa Burton
“It’ll be fine. If I’m going to write these stories, a bit of research is necessary. I don’t know some of the details and I want to make the stories plausible.”

“You’re stories are all speculative fiction.”

“That’s not what I mean. Sure they have fantastic elements, but the real-world stuff has to be that much more accurate.”

“Those girls are hell-bent on destroying your writing career by sending you down a wormhole of research. They aren’t called the Research Sirens for nothing.”

“That’s why you’re coming, to protect me. I enjoy research, and a certain amount of it is necessary.”

“Yeah, and a certain amount of it isn’t. Remember when they talked you into flying to China? If Lorelei hadn’t showed up you’d still be there today.”

“They’re the best researchers ever, and I want their help.”

“I’ll pull the Land Rover around. It goes with my outfit.” She headed up the stone steps, then turned back. “Lorelei will be pissed if she finds out.”

“Then we can’t let her find out.”

***

Lisa parked behind the Olympus Lounge in the tiny mountain town. She set the meeting up, and this is where the Sirens chose.

She made me wait in the car while she looked around the parking lot, one hand on her big assed gun at all times. She held up her hand and made a come here motion with two fingers. She shouldered her canvas map-bag and we went inside.

The lounge was decorated with marble columns running up into a darkened ceiling. We crossed a marble floor while glancing at busts of famous authors.

The ladies waited on various pieces of plush furniture. Wiki sat cross-legged on a huge beanbag with her nose buried in the iPad mini she never seemed to be without. Her red A-line haircut looked like it was multiple shades from various dyes, and had been cut to look like it was chewed into shape. She wore a tee-shirt with the Apple logo, a denim skirt, black leggings, and sneakers.

Wiki had always been the most helpful, and she wrinkled her nose in the most adorable way when she spotted us. She jumped up and skipped to a table booth had been reserved for our meeting.

Conversia rose from the sofa and straightened her black sequined dress. Her caramel skin and huge spiral perm drew instant attention. The scoop neck on her dress wasn’t something that could be ignored. She walked gracefully to the table, heels clacking on the stone floor as she walked.

Libraria came out of the back somewhere. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail, and she hadn’t given up on the sexy librarian look. She carried a tray with a carafe of red wine and five glasses. She glanced at me over the top of her glasses before placing the tray on the table.

Conversia gestured at my chair and I took a seat.

Libraria poured the wine and offered me a glass first.

Lisa scooped it up and took a tiny sip. Her eyes fluttered as she did a complete chemical analysis. “He won’t be having any today. He brought his own.” She reached in her canvas bag and produced a small thermos and tin cup. “He prefers coffee anyway.”

Wiki leaned forward and gushed. “What are we doing today?”

“I, um, I’m working on two novellas and I’m nearly ready to start. They’re quite different, and I need to get some details right.”

Libraria said, “Thank the Gods you came to us first. Starting now could be a disaster. You need to do your research until everything is perfect. Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind.”

“Well, one of them is about these people locked in an underground bunker. They’re stuck there for three months, because of a regular thing that happens in their solar system. As a part of the story, I need to know about the human circulatory system.”

“What you need is a good book on anatomy. Entry into medical school would be even better, but you may not have time. I have a complete library here and can help you find anything you need.”

Wiki turned her iPad toward me and opened her mouth in a silent “ta-daaa” gesture. The whites of her eyes were framed by the heavy mascara she always wore. Her black fingernails and collection of friendship bracelets framed a YouTube video of the human circulatory system.

“Is that a new nose-stud?”

“It is! Thanks for noticing. It’s a real diamond too–”

Conversia placed a perfectly manicured, red fingernail under my chin. She turned my head her direction. She batted her eyes and leaned forward, the scoop-neck of her dress guaranteeing I wouldn’t turn away. “Pay attention. Sometimes all you need is a consultant. Someone else has already done this research. All you need to do is find them and ask them some logical questions.”

“Uh-huh, um, what kind of questions?”

“What do you intend to have happen in your story? Ask if that’s plausible.”

“Okay, so I have another story where the character is going to learn to play the upright bass. I don’t know anything about bass clef.”

Squee! Look at these cute bass clef earrings I found.” Wiki wrinkled her nose and turned her iPad back towards me.

Lisa moved towards her. “Those are really cute.”

Wiki slid over in the booth so Lisa could sit down.

Libraria said, “I also have books about music theory, simple chords, and can even find you one about how to build your own bass.”

“Girls!” Conversia said. “The man needs another consultant. There are any number of music teachers, instrumentalists, and whatnot that could answer his questions. I suggest a month or two in Vienna or someplace where he can really learn.”

“It isn’t going to be symphonic in nature. It’s more like rock-a-billy, bluesy stuff.”

“I see,” Conversia said. “Perhaps I can set up a mentorship with Brian Setzer or someone similar.”

“That would be awe–”

Lisa slapped me across the forehead. She opened her mouth and played back an audio recording of my own voice. “I don’t have to be perfect, I just have to be plausible.”

I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee. The girls leaned back in the booth, and Libraria crossed her arms.

“I think we’re done here,” Lisa said.

Wiki turned her iPad around once more. In a half-hearted voice she said, “Look, a cute cat… playing an upright bass.”

Lisa grabbed me by the collar and stood me up. She pointed me toward the door and gave me a shove.

“Bye, ladies. Always a pleasure,” I said over my shoulder.

***

Lisa pulled onto the highway out of town. “You’re such a dope. A few horn-rimmed glasses, a scoop-neck collar, and a wrinkled nose and you’re ready to move to Vienna. I told you they were dangerous. Lorelei told you they were dangerous.”

“I think Conversia was onto something though. I need a consultant for each story.”

“I have all your friends in my database, and there are a couple who will do a wonderful job. I’ll send out some email and see if they’re interested.”

“At least you didn’t fall under their spell.”

“Don’t be so sure. Wiki and I ordered those earrings, and a bass clef pendant to go along with them. We’ll be like sisters, she said.”

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Some vacation snaps

While we're here, I snapped some photos. This is a fun place, and we only have a few days. It's kind of fun to bounce around without much of an agenda. I did book a walking voodoo tour tonight, but that's about all we have scheduled. The rest involves strolling around and taking it all in.

There is music everywhere.

The occasional feathered person shows up. Makes me wish I'd snapped the girl in the body stocking. They're either over dressed or underdressed.

The view out my dirty window this morning. A steamship along the shore, and a giant barge passing behind it.

So much wrought iron.

Long time readers will remember I used to keep an alligator snapping turtle. He passed away at about twelve years old. This shell is about three feet long and decorates a shelf where we had lunch. I like oysters, but only certain ways. Turns out a fried oyster poboy is pretty darned good. Bonus points for the bourbon milkshake thingie I washed it down with.

On a smaller scale this two inch cockroach was already stomped when I found him in the men's room. File it under, “Things we don't have in Idaho.”

We're about done drying out under the air conditioner. (Humidity is also something foreign to westerners.) I've been to humid places before, but it's kind of a new experience for my wife.

Before we head back out, I want to remind you to go visit my Sally Cronin post. It's the first peek at the new cover for The Yak Guy Project, and I'm sharing an excerpt.

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A Castaway Style Interview

It's an interesting exercise to choose items for a castaway island. It winds up being a pretty good look into your preferences and makeup. Today it's my turn, and I invite you all to check it out. Thanks to Sian Glirdan (Jan Hawk) for including me.

A Green Room welcome to ~ C.S. Boyack

Siân: Today I’ve set up a challenging environment for the fantastical C.S. Boyack, aka Craig, author of the hoopiest, twistiest speculative micro and macro-fiction on the planet, in a far-flung orbit of creativity! You saw what I did there, huh?
Craig’s a pioneering type and waxed long and eccentric when I asked about his preferred, year-long, castaway requirements. So, as I’m currently working on something in the furthest flung of galaxies, I’ve cherry-picked a rather spiffy desert planetoid that isn’t infested with giant semi-sentient worms, for him to go play in the biiiig sandpit…

Read on here I'll check over there for comments throughout the day.

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Jazz, America’s Gift blog tour

There are times when I get to bring new books and /or authors to you. This is because I signed up with 4-Wills Publishing. I've taken advantage of their tour service before, and I've hosted for them too. This time we have something different, because it's about jazz. Author Richie Gerber is here to tell us about it.

HAPPY 117TH BIRTHDAY, GEORGE GERSHWIN

 

Let ’Em Eat Cake (1933)

“What is the voice of the American soul? It is jazz . . .”

—George Gershwin

George—close your eyes and make a wish! Now BLOW!—Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear George. Happy Birthday to you.

On September 26, 1898—117 years ago—the musical phenomenon George Gershwin landed in the East New York section of Brooklyn in nothing but his birthday suit. Gershwin’s name conjures up his well-deserved towering stature as composer and pianist, but let’s explore a smattering of lesser known facets of this complex genius.

Just to jazz things up, as I did in my book JAZZ: America’s Gift—From Its Birth to George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue & Beyond, I will introduce each interesting tidbit of information with a Gershwin song title and include the date of the song’s publication. So let’s have some fun!

 

Lovers of Art (1924)

“If only I could put Rouault into music.”

—George Gershwin

George Gershwin was deeply entrenched in the art world from all sides of the easel—art appreciator, art collector, and artist of note in his own right. Gershwin’s passion for modern art matched his devotion to modern music. He described himself as a “modern romantic,” which was spot on for both his music and art. He revealed his modernistic proclivities in both music and art, saying, “I am keen for dissonance; the obvious bores me. The new music and the new art are similar in rhythm.”

Gershwin’s cousin Henry Botkin, a celebrated American Modernist painter and art connoisseur, became Gershwin’s mentor in the world of art. Botkin—or as George always called him, “my Cousin, Botkin, the painter”—helped him amass an exceptional art collection.

How exceptional was Gershwin’s collection? Get this: The walls of his Riverside Drive apartment looked like a museum. He had works by Modigliani, Renoir, Cezanne, Gauguin, Chagall, Rouault, Kandinsky, Leger, Rousseau, Max Weber, Klee, Siqueiros, and even Picasso. Are you starting to get the picture?

By 1933 the collection was so extraordinary that Gershwin loaned oils, watercolors, sculptures, lithographs, and drawings to the Arts Club of Chicago for an “Exhibition of the George Gershwin Collection of Modern Paintings.”

Gershwin started to collect fine art in the mid-to-late 1920s through his untimely demise in 1937. To get a better handle on the value of his amazing collection, let’s plunge into the math. His brother, Ira, estimated that George paid approximately $50,000 (just shy of $1 million today) for the entire collection, but over time, the price tag grew exponentially.

For example, Gershwin purchased Picasso’s “The Absinthe Drinker,” created during Picasso’s renowned “Blue Period,” for $1,500 (about $25,000 today). In 2010, Christie’s Auction House auctioned “The Absinthe Drinker” for a whopping . . . hold on tight . . . . $51.2 million! And that was for just one of his more than 140 paintings. When we add up the value of the other paintings in his collection, it is safe to say George Gershwin’s art collection would easily top out in the HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS! Not too shabby for a $50,000 investment.

Gershwin was also an accomplished painter. Some said if he hadn’t been successful in music, he could have made it in the world of art. Again, under the masterful coaching of his celebrated “Cousin Botkin, the painter,” Gershwin blossomed into an outstanding artist. It was easy to see that in both music and painting, George Gershwin was indeed a “modern romantic.”

 

The He-Man (1925)

“A dapper lean shark of a man.”

—Hoagy Carmichael’s description of George Gershwin

Physically, Gershwin had it all. He was a human dynamo with an unparalleled zest for life, who leapt up stairs, several steps at a time, to get to his fifth-floor man-cave apartment in his family’s Upper West Side Brownstone.

Gershwin had more energy than a Texas wildcat, erupting with colossal pizzazz. Jewess singer and actress Kitty Carlisle (of TV’s To Tell the Truth fame) who briefly dated Gershwin is quoted as saying, “[He had] enormous energy, and there’s nothing quite as sexy as energy, is there? What else is there?”

Gershwin stood at five foot nine inches and was brimming with nervous energy; indeed, many painted him as a “high-energy guy.” He was a product of, as well as one of the early architects of, the Jazz Age and the Roaring Twenties. Our very own birthday boy, George, was at the epicenter of a frantic decade overflowing with moxie.

Fine muscular coordination made Gershwin a great piano player and dancer. Master hoofer, Fred Astaire shared a story about Gershwin’s showing him and his sister, Adele, a complicated dance step for “Fascinating Rhythm.” Astaire said of Gershwin’s dance routine, “It was the perfect answer to our problem . . . it turned out to be a knockout applause puller.”

Gershwin indulged in all kinds of sports—golf, tennis, fishing, croquet, swimming, and Ping-Pong, which all fit perfectly with his supercharged nature. Although a big fan of boxing and baseball, he never partook for fear of hurting his hands. He once said, “I feel that I was meant for hard physical work, to chop down trees, to use my muscles.” Yet, with all his sports zest, he was an avid cigar smoker, dating back to his father’s cigar shop business.

Gershwin even approached songwriting like a well-conditioned, seasoned athlete. Writing music was a discipline, like exercise, and he needed to keep writing to stay in shape. At his “fittest,” he could write six songs a day, mostly at the piano, but songs came to him while he was away from the piano, too. He said, “The songwriter must always keep in training. He must try to write something every day. . . . Hence, I am always composing.” Boy was he composing. Gershwin said, “I write fifteen songs a day . . . That’s the way I get the bad ones out of my system.” Keeping up this assiduous pace makes one question the validity of writer’s block. Gershwin squelches the writer’s block roadblock with, “The tunes come dripping off my fingers . . .”

A 1930 article stated, “His bones are dry and he cracks them in the manner of a person cracking his fingers.” I suppose Gershwin did this because he spent hours at the piano with a cigar perched boldly from his mouth.

 

A Typical Self-Made American (1927)

“My people are Americans. My time is today.”

—George Gershwin

This brilliant double entendre title by George’s older brother, Ira, illustrates George’s paradoxical character: both a typical guy but also an atypical fellow. Some saw Gershwin as modest, self-effacing, and bashful, while others saw a conceited, arrogant braggart. He seemed to be made up of diametrically opposed individuals sharing the same body.

Those who did not comprehend Gershwin’s brutal frankness assumed he was a cocky, know-it-all narcissist, full of hot air. His honesty regarding himself was sometimes misconstrued as braggadocio. His friend pianist Oscar Levant asked Gershwin point blank, “Tell me, George, if you had to do it all over, would you fall in love with yourself again?” With friends like that . . .

Most saw Gershwin from a completely opposite perspective—not as a bigmouth boaster, but rather as a blushing, self-conscious cat. Pianist, composer, and orchestrator of Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue,” Ferde Grofé said Gershwin was “extremely modest.”

Gershwin’s collaborator on “Porgy and Bess,” DuBose Haywood spoke to this dichotomy. Haywood related that George was a modest man and those who did not know him might mistake his frankness and confidence as conceit.

Adding another note to the Gershwin personality symphony was his wide-eyed naiveté. Conductor Walter Damrosch wrote, “[Gershwin] had an almost child-like affection and pride for his own music.” Porgy and Bess director Rouben Mamoulian noted, “George was like a child. He had a child’s innocence and imagination . . . [And a] great sense of humor.” Biographer Merle Armitage said of Gershwin, “He had style.”

Modest and self-conscious, this extraordinary composer/musician felt at a disadvantage when it came to other big-league composers. This is reflected in the following quote regarding his lack of formal training: “There is so much I have to learn.” He told composer Jerome Kern (“Ol’ Man River” and “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes”), “I am a man with a little bit of talent and a great deal of chutzpah [nerve].” In Gershwin’s own words, we discover he viewed his musical chops less a product of expertise and more of his audacity.

Happy Birthday, George Gershwin!

“A Typical Self-Made American”

Contact info for Author, Richie Gerber:

Twitter: @JazzGift1

Website: www.jazzamericasgift.com

Facebook:

Trailer: https://youtu.be/bGQHPGikcQ8

Purchase link:

Jazz: America's Gift – www.amazon.com/dp/B0100RC8CK

This tour sponsored by: http://www.4willspublishing.wordpress.com/

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Eclectic? I’ll own that.

A while back I confessed to reading in a broad range of genres. Good is good, and it doesn't have to be limited to one area. I've always felt that way about a great many things. I still go to movies, even after they stopped making good westerns.

I thought it might be fun to check out my music. I have close to 500 songs on my iPhone. This device speaks to my truck and plays music during my commute. I'll bet nobody has a more mixed up playlist than I do. This phone contains the following (in part):

AC/DC

The Alan Parsons Project

Alice Cooper

Aretha Franklin

The B-52's

The Beach Boys

Beyoncé

Blue Oyster Cult

Bonnie Rait

Brad Paisley

Cher

Chuck Berry

Commander Cody & his Lost Planet Airmen

The Corrs

Creedence Clearwater Revival

David Bowie

Del Shannon

Dwight Yoakam

ELO

Elvis

Fun

George Thorogood

The Go-Go's

Gretchen Wilson

Harry Nilsson

The Irish Rovers

The Isley Brothers

Jethro Tull

Jimmy Durante

Joan Jett with and without The Blackhearts

John Cougar Mellencamp

Judas Priest

Katy Perry

Led Zeppelin

Linda Ronstadt

Meat Loaf

Metallica

Mickey Gilley

Monty Python

Oingo Boingo

Ozzie Osbourne

Pink

Paul Revere & The Raiders

The Pointer Sisters

Quiet Riot

Ramones

Reba McEntire

REO Speedwagon

Rihanna

The Rolling Stones

Stevie Nicks

Stray Cats

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Weird Al Yankovic

ZZ Top

Am I eclectic, or flat out insane? Seriously, who has a playlist with Jimmy Durrante, Reba McEntire, and Metallica on it? Let me hear it in the comments. Is your playlist a rival of mine, or do you stick with one style of music?

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