Stop making sense
I’m not really sure what the funniest part is of David Byrne’s trip to the Philippines. The fact that he was doing research for his Imelda Marcos musical (reviews here), the fact that he took his folding bike and rode it around Binondo, his commentary on jeepneys and jeepney nomenclature, or this time, in Manila:
We are led by an attendant down a buttery yellow hallway past a series of identical doors and the assistant opens one and there are 4 friends of Butch’s singing to a TV screen. We order beers but fail to join in the singing festivities. Someone programs “Burning Down the House”, maybe in the hopes that I will sing, but I just stare at the screen as a guy that looks like 80s Bon Jovi poses with a guitar while a model house burns. Marta, who is exhuberant and very pretty in plaid pants, sings along, though my phrasing in this song was a little tricky.
I’ve been tripping out to this story ever since Louie emailed it out. The guy in the big suit riding around Laoag city in a tricycle. Psycho Killer, Qu’est-ce que c’est?
maya, props on the psycho killer link! Awesomeness in a jar, as one of the commenters said. Love that Saturday Night Fever-esque beginning. For a more pop (but still kickbutt) performance, here’s:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B72FAq9jR-4&mode=related&search=
I’m putting “stop making sense” at the top of my Netflix queue. I’m starting to be a believer! If anyone can make sense out of Imelda’s life and make it a farcical yet poignant musical, he can.
So you caved and bought the DVD, eh, Louie? You realize that means you need to say goodbye to your poor student days and embrace what those fortune cookies told you.