Sunday, April 12, 2015

Aw, Baby, Don't Do Me Wrong Like That. Sunny 'n Me Was Only at the Party as Friends

You can't beleeb everything you be hearin down the wisecracker line. Hippie Sabotage was cuttin' and scratchin' on Sunny and we got to groovin but she don't mean nothing to me, baby. We was just playin checkers on triple decker buses in Tripoli. She don't mean nathan to me at this particular time. She got flava, yeah, but I ain't been fiendin for her, baby. It's you, aight? What the dealy?

I've been tryin to call you all day, but I don't have your number.


Sam L. said...

The singin', it be OK and mostly real quiet like; the fake drum/percussion part, that fakir needs some heavy percussion about the head and shoulders, with at least 70 percent accuracy, so long as the rest are "low blows", as we like to call them.

Sam L. said...

And no, a day later and a dollar shorter, and soon to be a lotta bucks shorter (it's THAT DAY again), I ain't no happier about that drummin'.

chasmatic said...

All these versions of Sunny are too much for me. I capitulate.
I'm listening to Dire Straits and Eurythmics songs to clear my head. Oh, and this one. I really dig accordions.

Holy Motors Sippman:

Sam L. said...

chas, that's an Accordion Gang! RUN for your LIFE. (I kinda liked 'em.)

And whatever you do, Mr. Sippi, don't NEVER play some Eagles around this woman: