All-Girl "Coca Cola Shape" ALL GIRL KPOP “OLÉ” PLUS 'biscuit'! Tour Sweet Anita-ette and "Love is Just a Heartbeat Away" GLORIA GAYNOR from "Transylvania to Manhattan"

Love  is  Just  a   

Heartbeat Away 

GLORIA GAYNOR

From  

Transylvania  

to

 Manhattan

All-Girl   KPOP   Sweet  Anita  Tourette   

"Coca Cola   Shape"  

 

IGAZ   Clones

 

 

i  just  been   loving  lisa   from

 

@blackpink

 

like these kids.   i'm losin' it.

 

But who is this?

 

fellow   teenage

kpop   girls?

IGAZ   Clones

 

@Simpleton

HAS   CLAIM   FOR   LEAVE   HIM   FROM    KINGSTON LISTEN   AND  

 

LET'S   TAKE   THIS   CASE   FOR #CocaColaShape

 

Artist: Simpleton
Song: Coca Cola Shape
Style:  Dancehall

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All-Girl KPOP Sweet Anita Tourette "Coca Cola Shape" IGAZ Clones i just been loving lisa from @blackpink like these kids. i'm losin' it. But who is this? fellow teenage kpop girls? https://youtu.be/SlOfjUeWu8s All-Girl KPOP Sweet Anita Tourette "Coca Cola Shape" IGAZ Clones @Simpleton HAS CLAIM FOR LEAVE HIM FROM KINGSTON LISTEN AND LET'S TAKE THIS CASE FOR #CocaColaShape Artist: Simpleton Song: Coca Cola Shape Style: Dancehall

A post shared by doug💙meet (@dougmeet) on Sep 23, 2020 at 2:31am PDT

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I was trying to dial in the perfect b&w but the climate had me doubting mine and @henricartierbresson__ #decisivemoment, and the intolerance to the idea that there is one — and the quality of @guybourdinofficial light, my love of ASMR, @o.winstonlinkmuseum, @egglestonworks loudspeakers and the unbearable heaviness on why I am becoming immune to conforming to old passions, and how they’ve lost their timelessness, eg. I no longer secretly loathe younger people whose entire aesthetic existence consists of the enjoyment of audio, video, painting, photography, and most absurdly, cinematography (letterbox on an @apple iPhone, or explaining to someone — why they really have not heard @fionaappleig #ftbc over and again — even after they had listened from their device in front of me while waving the music in the air at me like some hoary Beethoven)—which means, that if I am sticking to my semantic, fine-pointless expiation of her enjoyment of a failure by me to consider her environmental appreciation and undifferentiated apex of Van Morrison’s ‘Musical Radio in the airwaves,’ as her normal, as opposed to my past’s now stuffy dependence on 50 lbs of audio equipment, and the truly freeing portability of its riddance & yards of media…. I will admit that, not only has she heard fiona’s and @caradelevingne’s dogs 🐕 on a play date listening to her ‘jam,’ but she has WAVED IT IN THE AIR AT ME! • #mrjyn • @dougmeet for @Instagram •

A post shared by doug💙meet (@dougmeet) on Sep 22, 2020 at 3:36pm PDT

 

I was trying to dial in the perfect b&w but the climate had me doubting mine and @henricartierbresson__ #decisivemoment, and the intolerance to the idea that there is one — and the quality of @guybourdinofficial light, my love of ASMR, @o.winstonlinkmuseum, @egglestonworks loudspeakers and the unbearable heaviness on why I am becoming immune to conforming to old passions, and how they’ve lost their timelessness,

eg.

 

I no longer secretly loathe younger people whose entire aesthetic existence consists of the enjoyment of audio, video, painting, photography, and most absurdly, cinematography (letterbox on an @apple iPhone, or explaining to someone — why they really have not heard @fionaappleig  #ftbc over and again — even after they had listened from their device in front of me while waving the music in the air at me like some hoary Beethoven)—

 

which means, that if I am sticking to my semantic, fine-pointless expiation of her enjoyment of a failure by me to consider her environmental appreciation and undifferentiated apex of Van Morrison’s ‘Musical Radio in the airwaves,’ as her normal, as opposed to my past’s now stuffy dependence on 50 lbs of audio equipment, and the truly freeing portability of its riddance & yards of media….

I will admit that, not only has she heard fiona’s and @caradelevingne’s dogs 🐕 on a play date listening to her ‘jam,’ but she has WAVED IT IN THE AIR AT ME!

• #mrjyn • @dougmeet for @Instagram •

 

Barabangnariam feats of artistic Rochambeau

American tourists whose patience is overwhelmed by the inhumane brevity of their vacations, and their impatience to post thirty pictures in thirty days: (hashtag 30n30) on  Instagram.

GLORIA GAYNOR

Love is Just a Heartbeat Away

They barely register the stolid breasts testing the seamstress art of pristine restraint of the female form in service to a womanly appreciation which both confines and enlivens their sense of fulsome burning feminine wiles, as they only read their phones instead of calling someone and describing the poetic impossibility of besting the strained pleated bodice and embroidered lacy stitching whose bunching materials provide the perfect presentment and enhancement to that which no man shall deny is the lifeblood of his manhood. The encounter with a beer girl in a traditional dirndl, whose bodice makes men and women thirsty to drink from the utters of the tap in the beer hall on the Marionplatz in Munich.

sisters,

 

Many thanks. This has been checked from German to English. It now makes its return voyage to the motherland. It will be happy in returning to live again within its deep Germanic tradition of comboform words and their product, neologisms.

 

These unwieldy, unselfconcious linguistic marvels of sheer bravado and unwillingness to conform to the norms of word spacing or hyphenation marks or any of the other modern diacritical hacks and superfluous in the service of aesthetic looking but uncomfortable Volkswagen for the luxurious prestige of its chancellor arriving in a 500 series Mercedes, instead of a war-torn product of engineering from practicality whose mission was completed the day Americans began to mount surfboards on their grooves.

 

This old world impracticality and acrobatic otolarangyal exercise in linguistic gymnastics is the last reminder to some of us, that there once was a Germany whose Hegels, Kants, and Nietzsche were only matched by their Teutonic Barabangnariam feats of artistic Rochambeau.

 

And always, the job security. Sign painters, paint manufacturers, publishers, translators, and the luxury of speaking the street names with their directions to American tourists, whose patience is overwrought at the brevity inhumane length of their vacation, and equal to their impatience to post to Instagram a thirty-second encounter with a beer maiden in a traditional dirndl whose scooped bodice provides the thirst to finish drinking the Pilsners on tap next to the tourist beer-hall on the Marionplatz in Munchen. Germans somehow make do with the barely worthwhile five-week vacations they are given. Their is no time to see the slips, gravelly islets, and out of the way "nude" beaches they take for granted in their homes and local restaurants where clothing is forbidden, like tipping. They marvel at the sloth and incompatibility these locals maintain with their various jobs. While they are up to greet fishermen on the streets on their way to their boats, the Germans have just emerged from the same muddy bay and eaten a homemade sandwich made of rye and herring, or liverwurst and sausage, or any combination of the four with some homemade potato pancakes. They are on their way to greet the funicular operator as he begins his day of transporting Germans from the bottom to the top of the mountain. Google has invested billions in everything to do with language, translation and the combination of AI. It has already exceeded your investment: 3rd iteration from German via English to German with a stop on Twitter: A handball dirndl. A mocking, smiling face with hard-hearted eyes. Scherzo please! Ouch. Scene nonstarter, masculinity.

 

A uniform tract tradition, according to Hützenfest. See it in your German city.

 

schwestern

Danke vielmals.

Dies wurde von Deutsch nach Englisch überprüft. Es macht jetzt seine Rückreise ins Mutterland.

Es wird glücklich sein, wieder in seiner tiefen germanischen Tradition der kombinierten Wörter und ihres Produkts, der Neologismen, zu leben.

Diese unhöflichen, selbstbewussten sprachlichen Wunder der Tapferkeit und des Unwillens, die Normen des Wortabstands oder der Silbentrennung oder eines der anderen modernen diakritischen Hacks einzuhalten, sind im Dienst des ästhetisch ansprechenden, aber unbequemen Volkswagen für das luxuriöse Prestige der Ankunft ihres Kanzlers überflüssig in einem Mercedes der 500er-Serie anstelle eines vom Krieg zerrissenen technischen Produkts aus dem wirklichen Leben, dessen Mission an dem Tag erfüllt wurde, als die Amerikaner begannen, Surfbretter auf ihren Dächern zu montieren.

Diese Unpraktikabilität der alten Welt und die akrobatische Otolarangyale-Übung in der liguistischen Gymnastik erinnern einige von uns daran, dass es einst ein Deutschland gab, dessen Hegels, Kants und Neitche nur ihren germanischen Barabangnariam-Leistungen des künstlerischen Rochambeau entsprachen.

Und immer Arbeitsplatzsicherheit. Zeichenmaler, Maler, Verleger, Übersetzer und der Luxus, die Straßennamen mit ihren Anweisungen an amerikanische Touristen zu richten, deren Geduld von der unmenschlichen Kürze ihres Urlaubs und ihrer Ungeduld, dreißig auf Instagram zu posten, überwältigt wird. Zweite Begegnung mit einem Biermädchen in einem traditionellen Dirndl, dessen Mieder Sie durstig macht, die Pilsner vom Fass neben der touristischen Bierhalle am Marionplatz in München zu trinken.

Die Deutschen verstehen sich irgendwie mit den kaum lohnenden fünfwöchigen Ferien, die sie bekommen. Es ist keine Zeit, die Ausrutscher, Kieselinseln und einsamen "FKK" -Strände zu sehen, die sie in ihren Häusern und lokalen Restaurants für selbstverständlich halten, wo Kleidung verboten ist, wie Trinkgeld.

Sie staunen über die Trägheit und Unvereinbarkeit dieser Einheimischen mit ihren verschiedenen Jobs.

Während sie die Fischer auf dem Weg zu ihren Booten begrüßen wollen, sind die Deutschen gerade aus derselben schlammigen Bucht aufgetaucht und essen ein hausgemachtes Sandwich aus Roggen und Hering oder Leberwurst und Wurst oder eine Kombination der vier mit einer hausgemachten Kartoffel Pfannkuchen.

Sie sind auf dem Weg, den Standseilbahnbetreiber zu begrüßen, als er seinen Tag damit beginnt, Deutsche vom Boden auf den Gipfel des Berges zu transportieren.

Google hat Milliarden in alles investiert, was mit Sprache, Übersetzung und der Kombination von KI zu tun hat.

Es hat Ihre Investition bereits überschritten:

3. Iteration von Deutsch über Englisch nach Deutsch mit einem Stopp auf Twitter: Eine handballspielende Meerjungfrau in traditioneller lieberhosen und dirndl, die ihre amerikanischen Lieblings-Songwriter über ihre Kopfhörer Lieber und Stoller hört. Ein spöttisches, lächelndes Gesicht mit hartherzigen Augen kritisiert letzte Nacht das verspielte Scherzo! Autsch! Es war ein Nichtstarter für meine Männlichkeit. "Ein einheitlicher Traktat, der ohne Tradition gedruckt und verbreitet wird, ist der Beginn der Anarchie und des von der Regierung auferlegten Chaos", so Hützenfest. Sehen Sie es in Ihrer deutschen Stadt.

 

This impracticality of acrobatic ENT.

 

The glottis required by Linguistic gymnastics reminds us that there was once a Germany whose Hegels, Kants and Nietzsches were only surpassed by the Germanic Barabangnariam philosophies and the young, proud Germanic Rochambeau, with whom they stand, and their Published works for all humanity.

And always job security for its sign painters, literary publishers, papermill owners and manufacturers, as well as the sheer heft which its translators, and public have in directing American tourists to Anne Frank's house through street names whose Stygian directions would be more helpful for them to drive them.

 

Amerikanische Touristen, deren Geduld von der unmenschlichen Kürze ihres Urlaubs und ihrer Ungeduld überwältigt ist, dreißig Bilder in dreißig Tagen zu veröffentlichen: (Hashtag 30n30) auf Instagram.

Sie registrieren kaum die starren Brüste, die die Näherin-Kunst der pristenen Zurückhaltung der weiblichen Form testen, um einer weiblichen Wertschätzung zu dienen, die ihr Gefühl der weiblichen Bestrebungen sowohl einschränkt als auch belebt, da sie nur ihre Telefone lesen, anstatt jemanden anzurufen und das Poetische zu beschreiben Die Unmöglichkeit, das gespannte, plissierte Oberteil und die gestickten Spitzenstiche zu besiegen, deren Bündelmaterialien die perfekte Präsentation und Verbesserung dessen bieten, was niemand leugnen soll, ist das Lebenselixier seiner Männlichkeit. Die Begegnung mit einem Biermädchen in einem traditionellen Dirndl, dessen Mieder Männer und Frauen durstig macht, aus dem Wasserhahn in der Bierhalle am Marionplatz in München zu trinken.

Posted to See Ya At What Gets Me Hot

Alvino Rey and Talking Steel Guitar Puppet Stringy actually talked

Alvino  Rey

and Talking Steel Guitar Puppet

Stringy,   actually talked

 

•14,489 views•

•14,489 views•

Alvino Rey   

Talking Steel Guitar 

  "Stringy"

•14,489 views•

•Dec 7, 2011•

•1173 Shares•

Doug Meet

Alvino Rey's 'Talking Steel Guitar' could actually talk!

 

Giving Rey's orchestra its distinctive sound -- some of Rey's critics called it a 'gimmick'

 

Rey played with virtuosity, demonstrating his guitar's 'singing' quality by manipulating tone and volume.

 

'Stringy' (the guitar's nickname) was Looks as if 'HE' were Singing words to the songs.

Of course

 

Stringy' weren't no bibulous dry drunk dream, his mouth was moving.

 

Luise King, Rey's wife,

and one of  America's

royal music families,

King sisters,

  In Bizarre ritual,   taboo --  musician's sexual fantasy  or

totemic   fetish.

 

Rey's wife 

Luise, stood backstage --

in her hand,

 a small plastic tube,

connecting her mouth, which grasped firmly the appurtenance between lipstick lips

and

bitten down securely  upper and lower  teeth.

 

 

Wife, Luis, Rey, Rey's magic-seeming Gibson Steel Guitar, connected to his Gibson amplifier, truly producing the guitar sounds the audience heard, but with the addition of magical misdirection, requiring just a little suspension of disbelief, Rey's astonishing gliss bliss, smooth as glass and shrill as Minnie Pearl, doubled, if you will, not by a hidden guitar behind the curtain (sometimes actually done, and done still to this day with some instruments), but the furtive Oz in up to her ears in gear, dressed to  her husband's strictly White Tie Tails signature, by now, imprimatur, marking an upper class, or required mode of presentation a Potentate whose job it was to be at the beck. and on call at all times of a visiting dignitary, or much more excitingly, a Royal Family member's daughter, sister, or niece with which it was his filial responsibility to squire Her Ladyship among the fragrant gardens and salons where he would jauntily offer a cigarette out of site of the King and his guest, around the first corner which offered privacy and a view of the land which lay before them like a dreamed vista of evanescence, fecund, and amorously intoxicated, where with boyish, somewhat dashing hesitation in his voice (more like, habituation), his  demeanor hardening at the prospect of the crime, he would produce his inscribed with tender words and crested gold Dunhill cigarette holder and produce a blue Dunhill filtered cigarette, while whispering to invite mutual subrogation,  infamy and mischief of a fourteen-year-old, but enough to gain trust, project naivete, and invite a shared secret en deux -- her lips reddened by a flush of longing and by the cold luxurious security the mechanism produced, a muffled lovemaking session from the guests above her suite (it was a rush holiday) at Le Cap de Monaco, where she had pleasured herself for the first time, to for the first time, hearing actual coitus from two people whose desire and passion was real and feral and existed even if it be a tryst or rendezvous, she gasped beneath the soft sheet, her nipples and the cool folds of silk sheets caressing her ass.,

She

found herself crying out, unexpectedly coming for the first time, and not  knowing what she had done to cause it.

But

she thought of it now, as  two days and tonight at this chateaux and grounds, now to her, all rooms for  passionate lovemaking and the beginning of a fabulous love affair which a sixteen-year-old Princess was bound to enjoy.  

 

The flash in her eyes registered enlarged pupils of sexual desire redoubling her effort to shrug all of it off  resulting in a paroxysm of coughing from her overdone first inhalation smoking, which we shall infer was not countable in months. 

She

did inhale all of  what she hungrily sucked into her mouth and into her delicate papillae, its tendrils on her lungs  shrinking away like her cat  from acrid but calming fog whose comfort she felt in her chest, then her head -- spurring her on to exhale lest she forget; but she had inhaled enough nicotine to render her capable of continuing to speak, expressing  great knowledge and rare experience whose commonality of Royalty one is never afforded. 

Admiring all new and beautiful things, and one newer still -- whose hand now brushed her silken bustle, producing a frisson privee du chambre, a sound of falling into her

Lit a la turque made for   Sovereign and brave Marie Antoinette, appointed as such for she whose utter  delight AND bon mots reserved for week's end.

How

disparaged her subjects with shame and contempt, some weeping, some yelling for the executioner's blade to fall.

If

here discernible, her carriage, fearless, impregnable of subjugation. 

Marie's

look could not have been invented by peasant -- overly florid if by poet,  its utterance, hooded,  as were its subjects, impetuous wretches, one child, absconding with her courtly slippers, and all as the thousands, unwashed mobs, brown, pruned winter leaves. 

Her green

 whimsical topiary she imagined and designed  herself, shielded among those  hoary from age, not condition, as was she, their din graciously cut short by her literal beheading disembodiment.

Its

head and neck, ridiculously cleaved cleanly asunder were eyes from foots, the two were of different location, apart, but faintly, there was he who did see the half-smile visible on lips  her deadhead reignite over her twitching fingers' Majesty.

And now, her

head lofted in air, grasped by its fallowed locks, white wig, but did not they know of her condition?  

A

grotesque Butcher Special held in victory as if to sell  first customer, served by masked executioner,   wind blowing cool  for as long, then flustered no more; no ghoulish festivities either to mark inside itinerary, unsteady from gin, but mostly occasion,  lustily witness all, whence  collective stomachs fell the same, no noble Queen -- refusal to quit Her Versailles until the end -- and then stragglers -- sighs winnowing in air,  departing her soul, final heir, Queen of France,  her beautiful, horrible, headless moor.

 

 

His

 

 

distinguishable formality suggested unremarkable distinction -- an avant garde pioneer of innovation -- au courant, unavailable in America (of course -- more now) existed.

Rey's Wife, through Rey's auxilliary amplifier speaker, forming words with her lips, breath, vibrations inside her mouth, and the vocalizing movement her throat muscles made naturally as she performed a sort of ventriloquism on a dummy which she couldn't see to the perfect pitch and timbre of a shrill stertorous stringed gliding tumble of notes together except for her husbands sure hand.

 

Rey would make her make 'IT' say his name as he glided the steel bar along the strings.

 

his steel guitar playing perfectly, it obedient like a great dog on spindly legs shining of Astor and tiger maple like tortoise which surrounded the nut sumptuously proclaiming something exotic but palatable was on the menu at this another supper club.  dressed in perfect

tuxedo.

 

With device, Rey and Luise  created eerie vocals  in human-seeming, or doll-made four- or five-part harmonies -- 

 

more ghost note overtone, a pleasant warble two  floating notes, human and Guitar, vying for pitch, linting either too early, too late, or exact.

And

mysteriously, all of it seemed to him too, from his steel, or puppet,  and sometimes he almost thought it stringy, and sometimes stringy thought it too.

 

 

The 1972 double album Something/Anything? is Todd Rundgren's third and most successful album as a solo artist.

Though heavily influenced by the Singer-Songwriter movement - Laura Nyro in particular - different songs range into psychedelia, Motown Soul, Power Pop, early Synth-Pop, and even opera. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Something/Anything? sessions involved copious Ritalin use by the singer. Rundgren played every instrument on the first three sides, but after an earthquake struck his Los Angeles studio, Rundgren set up live sessions in New York City and at his upstate Bearsville studio to complete the final side with a rotating series of session players chosen for him by keyboardist Moogy Klingman.

The commercial and critical success of Something/Anything? was something of a double-edged sword for Rundgren, who set out immediately to avoid being pigeonholed as a Singer-Songwriter on the followup A Wizard, A True Star, aiming away from the pop mainstream towards cult status. Paradoxically, this ensured that Something/Anything? would remain his best-known release. The album was listed at #173 in Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time and spawned the major hit singles "I Saw the Light" and "Hello It's Me". "Couldn't I Just Tell You" subsequently became a Power Pop classic that served as a major influence on subsequent works in the genre.

Track listing

Side One: "A Bouquet of Ear-Catching Melodies"

Side Four: "Baby Needs a New Pair of Snakeskin Boots (A Pop Operetta)"

1. "Overture–My Roots: Money (That's What I Want)/Messin' with the Kid"
2. "Dust in the Wind"
3. "Piss Aaron"
4. "Hello It's Me"
5. "Some Folks Is Even Whiter Than Me"
6. "You Left Me Sore"
7. "Slut"

---

Before we go any further, I'd like to show you a tropes list I made up, and one can be made for any album, even this one:

• Alliterative Title: "It Takes Two to Tango".
• All There in the Manual: The liner notes give commentary on each individual song, either on their concept or the meaning of the lyrics. This includes additional context for the Rock Opera, including additional libretto.
• Anguished Declaration of Love: "Couldn't I Just Tell You"
• Audience Participation Song: Liner notes invite the reader/listener to participate by going to a mirror while listening to "I Went to the Mirror", as it's a "multimedia experiment." "Intro" invites listeners to find examples of poor production on their favourite recordings, and then proceeds to demonstrate them.
• Break-Up Song: "It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference"
• Call-Back: The track "Overture–My Roots: Money (That's What I Want)/Messin' with the Kid" is made up of archival recordings Rundgren made with other bands. "Hello It's Me" was originally a hit for the Nazz.
• The Cover Changes the Meaning: The original Nazz version of "Hello It's Me" is a Beatles-styled ballad. The version here pushes the tempo up and goes for more of a pop-jazz feel a la Carole King. In the process, the lyrics change tone from regretful to wistful.
• Cover Version: "Money (That's What I Want)", originally by Motown artist Barrett Strong, and "Messin' with the Kid", originally by blues musician Junior Wells. These are archival recordings from Rundgren's earliest bands.
  • And Rundgren's remake of his own "Hello It's Me", which he first recorded with The Nazz (and which has become much better known than the original).
• Distinct Double Album: Exaggerated Trope. Instead of two discs with distinct concepts, each LP side has its own overriding concept:
  • Side one is described in the liner notes as "a bouquet of ear-catching melodies".
  • Side two is "the cerebral side".
  • Side three is "the kid gets heavy".
  • Side four is "Baby Needs a New Pair of Snakeskin Boots (A Pop Operetta)".
• Downer Ending: The Rock Opera that closes out the album ends with the protagonist not getting the girl and then dying from exhaustion after screaming his lungs out. This probably won't be obvious without the liner notes.
• Exactly What It Says on the Tin: "Slut" is an ode to a slut. Similarly, "Torch Song" is a torch song, and "Song of the Viking" is about Vikings.
• Fading into the Next Song: The entire fourth side is gapless, mostly linked with Studio Chatter. Apart from this, "It Takes Two to Tango" fades into "Sweeter Memories" and "Intro" fades into "Breathless".
• Friends with Benefits: The most popular interpretation of "Hello It's Me".
• Genre Roulette/Genre-Busting: Like many of Rundgren's other albums, Something/Anything? covers a wide range of musical territory.
• I Am the Band/Self-Backing Vocalist: As lampshaded in the album's artwork◊, on the first three sides of the album, Rundgren is the only featured performer, and also produced everything himself (the majority of them were recorded with the assistance of James Lowe and John Lee, though he recorded some of the songs himself at his home studio). He initially intended to do the same for the fourth side, but after an earthquake struck his studio in Los Angeles he decided to take a different approach and performed the songs in New York City with anyone who showed up to the sessions.
• I Want My Beloved to Be Happy: "Hello It's Me" has a narrator stuck in a Relationship Revolving Door telling his partner that he's content to keep things that way because "it's important to me that you know you are free."
• Instrumentals: "Breathless" features only drums, piano, a Moog synthesizer, and a small amount of Scatting.
• Intentionally Awkward Title: "Piss Aaron" and "Slut"
• Last Note Nightmare: "The Night the Carousel Burnt Down". "Saving Grace" is an inversion, being a standard soft-rock song other than starting off with a creepy bass note and unintelligible Black Speech.
• Medium Awareness: In "Intro", he invites the listener to search records for mastering gaffes — hiss, hum, popping P's, bad editing — whoever finds the most, wins!
• Mohs Scale of Rock and Metal Hardness - spans from 1 to 5. Examples:
  • 1 - "Hello It's Me", "It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference"
  • 2 - "Saving Grace", "You Left Me Sore"
  • 3 - "I Saw the Light", "It Takes Two to Tango"
  • 4 - "Couldn't I Just Tell You", "Wolfman Jack"
  • 5 - "Black Maria", "Little Red Lights"
• Musical Pastiche/In the Style of...: "I Saw the Light" for Carole King, "Wolfman Jack" for Motown, "Song of the Viking" for Gilbert and Sullivan, "Little Red Lights" for Jimi Hendrix, "Slut" for The Rolling Stones.
• My Girl Is a Slut: "Slut", of course.
• One-Man Song: "Wolfman Jack" and "Piss Aaron".
• One-Woman Song: "Black Maria" and "Marlene".
• One-Word Title: "Intro", "Breathless", "Marlene", and "Slut".
• Power Pop: Despite scraping the bottom of the charts as a single, "Couldn't I Just Tell You" is one of the most influential songs in the genre as a whole, often cited or covered by other artists.
• Protest Song: "Some Folks Is Even Whiter Than Me", supposedly.
• Record Needle Scratch: How "Intro" ends.
• Rock Opera: Side four.
• Shout-Out: "Wolfman Jack" is a shout-out to the legendary radio DJ of the same name.
• Silly Love Songs/Real Life Writes the Plot: Several songs are about one of Rundgren's botched high school relationships, which in turn led to mild Creator Backlash.
• The Something Song: "Song of the Viking", "Torch Song"
• Song Style Shift: "Hello It's Me" starts out as soft-rock before the horns and chorus drag it into Soul territory.
• Spelling Song: "Slut".
• Spoken Word in Music: On "Intro", Rundgren creates makes a game of spotting potential production errors on any album, maybe even your favorite album! Then he gets cut off and "Breathless" starts up.
• Studio Chatter/Throw It In!: All over the record, most famously the botched drum take and "Mother of Goooddddddd!" introducing "Couldn't I Just Tell You".
• Stylistic Suck: On "Intro", the award-winning Record Producer demonstrates what poor production sounds like. Spot examples on your favorite album - whoever finds the most, wins! This qualifies as an arguable In-Universe example of Self-Demonstrating Article: Rundgren invites listeners to find them on "any record, including this one", and of course, there they are, right where he's demonstrating them.
• Wanderlust Song: "Little Red Lights":
  But once I hit the open road
  I'll be sailing off and on my own.