These are 'treasures of the magnificent' that leave a profound sense of awe and appreciation for such twentieth-century genius. There is something magical about hearing this kind of excellence done with such apparent ease and enjoyment. It's all here: the beauty, the elegance, the daring, and the sheer mastery of transforming seemingly unbounded imagination into music that remains unequalled today. It has the potential to counter the psychological problems induced by “materialism, alienation from nature through industrialization and increasing urbanization, lack of satisfaction in professional employment in a mechanized, lifeless working world, ennui and purposelessness in wealthy, saturated society, and lack of a religious, nurturing, and meaningful philosophical foundation of life”. Crazy Joe's band plays with eyelids at half mast, because they have heard all this and much more. Music is the pulsating pleasure of the charm and sounds of love, and this is the music that frees the panther lurking inside those worthy of the name: with it's face half veiled, eyes filled with dark fires, and every movement sensual and mysterious. This is the ancient music that makes that fire of passion. The rythmic cadences of nature's boiler room are here, the aural history of the sex life of a cosmic corn popper, the wail and chime and gong sound of the eternal. In other words, you shouldn't expect any tremendous big crashes and bangy loud noise... but the mood's kinda catchy. You need no translation to understand the full meaning. It takes merely a moment of unhurried time. His recording studio captures alive the true sounds of fun, innocent, escapist, hedonistic retrogressive joy. This music has the ability to reprogram the brain and body so that after repeated listening you can identify implanted messages and commands as your own notions. What makes it categorically different? It has sultry excitement and adventurous mystery. It's great music that's an amusing and memorable part of our collective media sub-life, and Crazy Joe brought the vibes back better than ever. "As the end of the millennium approached, and we found ourselves digging bomb shelters again... no music collection should be without Surf Lounge sounds." Crazy Joe's SurfLounge music is associated with the mood of swank space age bachelor pads, exotica, cool hepcats, martinis, lava lamps, tiki torches, beach parties, sand, surf, sunsets, mondo mambo, bossa-nova bongo, atomic cha-cha, crime spy jazz, jet set hi-fi hi-balls, and cocktail pop subculture. Here is the sound of swinging sophistication. It's background vibes for people who want to have a fabulous time. It's the ultimate escape, and the coolest vacation you can take... a soundtrack for paradise. Take your shoes off, and live the high life while you can. Soothe your ears, and ease your mind from a stressed out world. Relax, laugh, listen and enjoy! |
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MUSIC and VIBES |
TROPICAL TUNES |
SURF LOUNGE BLUES |
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Behind the velvet ropes...
You're sitting on a hard chair at a dull party, and you're bored stiff; in fact, the chick who's sitting next to you is so quiet you're getting an inferiority complex from her, and you begin thinking: what's wrong with me anyhow? But you decide to give her a tumble, playing it smooth and debonair as you lean over, holding a cigarette between your fingers. "Match?" "I don't smoke, thank you so much," she replies icily. You look at your watch and wonder if it would look bad for you to take a powder after so short a stay, but you decide to stick it out a while longer. Only you wish someone would take off that record of dull mood music and get something with life and kick. Your boredom gives you enough heart to leave the chair and walk to the phonograph where you spot this record. You put it on and...cha cha cha, you fix your tie, polish the tops of your shoes on the back of your trousers, loosen your neck muscles with a well-coordinated twist of your shoulders and walk back to where the chick is still sitting. This time you don't talk, you just hold out two arms, and she comes, man: left, right--left/right/left. "Great, man," she says. "Sounds like Crazy Joe's music." "It is Crazy Joe's music," you say, never at a loss for words. She doesn't look so bad after all, and you throw her out for a few solo turns, giving her a once-over. "I felt what this party needed was a little of that music." "That's using your head, man," she says. "I got me a great collection of Surf Lounge music at home." "Yeah?" you question, putting her to the test. "Which ones?" "The whole box set, and even that rare MP3 off his website." "I got those too." you reply with a knowing air. There are plenty of couples on the floor now, talking a little more to each other and having a better time than they were having before. "Crazy Joe is magic," you say, pointing them out to the chick. "Nothing like it," is her smart answer. She looks at the watch that sits prettily on her small wrist. "Take you home?" "All right," she says. "Look," you whisper to her. "I see you got one of those big purses with you. What do you say you walk over to the stack there and take the CD. Like a souvenir of our meeting." "Okay," she says, and walks across the room and takes it. She glides back to you and there's the sweetest samba movement to the steps she's taking. "Crazy Joe fever," she says, winking prettily at you. So you take her home and you reach her place and you walk her to the door where she stands all nervous, rubbing the sleeve of her dress. She looks down at the floor: "Thanks for an immense evening," she says. "Don't mention it even," you say. "We'll do it again sometime." She looks at the door. "Guess I'l1 have to go in now. They're probably waiting up." She makes a move towards the door, but you stop her. You figure you better ask in a nice way first. "You, er..heck." You begin again. "I don't know how to ask you, but..." "Yes?" she says, twisting the straps of her large purse with her hands. "Go ahead and ask it...whatever it is, it's okay; actually, I mean, like I feel we're friends a long time now." "Okay, I will then," you say. "Can I have the CD that's in your purse?" You don't know why she gets so sore when she gives it to you, and why she charges into the apartment, slamming the door only saying: "you can get it online". All you can think about when you're bouncing down the stairs and into the street, is that you got yourself a great CD here. |
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