If anyone ever decides to get together a Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse for the Current State of American Pop Culture, I get dibs on Pestilence. Or possibly Death, depending on which one is likeliest to get more leg. And I invite Leon Redbone to saddle up next to me as we cut a bloody swath through the barren and useless hinterlands of creatively bankrupt reality TV, soulless and bland corporate top 40 music, hyper-accelerated fads that--thanks to the Internet--burn through their useful life in mere fractions of the time it used to take us to tire of ...read more
Do you remember the first time you heard Leon Redbone? I was six years old, elbows at the edge of my parents’ bed, hands propping up my chin. Saturday Night Live was an occasional family ritual. At such a simple age I was partial to Mr. Bill, Land Shark, and of course, the musical guests. I remember when they announced Leon Redbone (was it Buck Henry? Charles Grodin?). Leon had all the facets of a common cartoon character; the gag gift glasses complete with rubber nose and moustache, the zoot suit, and the lankiness. He made me laugh. And then, ...read more
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