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Sunday, February 21, 2016

Stuck In My Head

Did you ever get a song stuck in your head and try as you might, you could NOT get that sucker out? Pretty terrible and rather annoying, right? Now, multiply that by ten or more and you have "I'm Called Little Buttercup."

(“Gaaaaacckkkk!” Picture a cat hoarfing up a hair ball.  You get the picture.)

Let me preface this by admitting that I am NOT a G&S fan. (Gilbert and Sullivan, to the less initiated). The only play of theirs I like is “The Mikado,” and only once every twenty years. Yes, I understand their importance is the history of operetta/the beginning of musical theater. But I also understand Wagnar's place in opera too. It doesn't mean I like Wagnar unless Elmer Fudd is singing "Kill Da Wabbit" or, "Oh Bwunhilde, you're so wove-wy."

I digress.

Of all the antiquated stuff that G&S ever wrote, "I'm Called Little Buttercup" has to be my absolute LEAST favorite. I detest it. Having to sing/record it at the behest of an old friend, even in the Mrs. Miller-esque vein, really got my musical goat. Rather like a 19th century “Achy Breaky Heart.”  Primarily because it ain’t anywhere NEAR any key that I normally sing in. I’m an alto for those of you who haven’t heard me sing.  Ergo, what is a embarrassing vocal struggle becomes parody.

And as it turns out, after three hours of trying to record the damn thing (another aggravating, tear-inducing story entirely), it's probably not “good” enough. Most likely because, of course, the director of said play (where this is background music) wants it live.  Backstage, singing it live. Unpaid. Of course. The woman who was supposed to do this got sick.  I am sorry if she isn’t well enough to do this for however many weekends this play goes up, of course.  I hope it’s nothing serious, poor lady. But to my mind, singing this for free would MAKE me sick.

Thanks for nothing. Except for getting it stuck in my head. Stuck so badly that it echoed during my gig last night where I WAS getting paid to be on my game.

Although, to be fair, in a comic vein it just SCREAMS parody. It cries out for parody. It begs for it.
"I've snuff and tabacky and excellent jacky" just calls for "I'll give you a smacky and wacky tabacky," doesn't it?

"And excellent peppermint drops" begs for, "And excellent peppermint schnapps."  Perhaps I need to record a verbal parody, terribly sung.  No, I just want to get this sucker out of my head. Please, make it go away.

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