Sunday Night Vinyl

HRH  and I are home alone, cooking burgers and listening to records as per our “Mommy Is Gone to Work and We Have to Fend for Ourselves Night”.  Unfortunately, that means we’re listening to the ‘New York, London, Paris, Munich‘  album by M.


Let me first start out by saying that this is the biggest piece of rat shit I have ever heard.  HRH paid a whipping $1.00 for it a few months back at some Record Fair because she liked the Albert Einstein pop art on the back cover.  And, really, sometimes these cheap ass impulse buys pay off and sometimes they don’t…this is clearly in the later category.

This is M’s first album, released in 1979, the title being taken from a line in the chorus of the March 1979 hit single ‘Pop Muzik‘, an extended version of which is featured on the album.

And who in the fuck M is exactly, beats the living shit out of me.

And while I’m at it, how ‘Pop Muzik‘ ever became a “hit” will continue to baffle mankind for all eternity, I assure you.

It’s sythn pop taken to the ‘Nth‘ degree…and not in the good way either.

Fucking terrible.

This makes every other album on Shit List infinitely better.


About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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