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The HeadFest Comedic Can-Opera

post #1 of 13
Thread Starter 
So, seventeen hours of driving and thinking about the just-completed HeadFest can make a body a little loony. So I wrote this little ditty...OK, big ditty:

HeadFest Comic Can-Opera
Largely inspired by coastally displaced Floridian misadventure.

(Unless otherwise noted, the music is the theme song from “The Three Stooges,” you know it, “Three Blind Mice.” During performance it is customary that the parts be sung by constituent groups with audience participation by the contingents present.)

Head-Fi Meet, Head-Fi Meet
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da
We schlep our gear to the conference room,
We do it so we can share our tunes,
We’re just a big bunch of headphone goons, we’re
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da.

Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da
Head-Fi Meet, Head-Fi Meet
This morning our breath smelled like hotel eggs,
At noon cables dangled between our legs,
Tonight we’ll eat Sushi and drink from kegs, we’re
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da

Meet is done, meet is done,
Now for some fun, now for some fun
We coil up our cables and close the meet.
Put boxes in cars and head into the heat.
We giddily waddle our flatland streets, we’re
Flor – i – da, flor – i – da

HEY! You guys. Hey, you guys!
What a big surprise. What a big surprise.
You’ve piles of gear and cables by yards
You normally post like hard-core bards
Get onto your laptops, unload those cards, cuz
WE WANT PIX! WE WANT PIX!

(The all goes quiet and we hear a tympany roll. Still “Three Blind Mice” but in the style of a basso sea shanty.)

New York lurks. New York lurks.
Darn those Florida jerks, darn those Florida jerks.
We’ll post in the morning and by week’s end
The line’s out the door and around the bend,
And soon we’lll have meets that never end, cuz
New York works, New York works.

(Then the music changes. After a short namby-pamby flute and harp introduction, we hear a light and meaningless refrain of Elizabethan parlor dance music. Think tall white wigs and 50 pound hoop dresses, and people doing a stately square-dancing-like thing.)

Weeeest Coast dudes like driving near the beach - and – oc - eans, (ting)
Waaaalking pace with bursts of fury calmed by our I – E – Ms. (honk)
Meeeeets so cool and joy - ous fill our Kar - ma a - gain. (Budhist gong)
Duuuude, please watch your yooo - gurt near my brand new R-10s. (splat!)

(Back to “Three Blind Mice”)

Our meets are big. Our meets are big.
Red Sox Rule! Red Socks Rule!
(then the next two lines in a heavy Boston accent.)
We live near the harbor and up down-east,
We slurp on our chowder and have a feast,
But our members are winners no doubt in the least, ‘cuz
Our meets are big. And Red Socks Rule!

What about us? What about us?
Fly over states. Fly over states.
Your sirens and traffic and stadium cheers,
Have gunked up your triodes and rattled your gear.
Look down from your planes and you’ll see we have ears.
Fly over states. Fly over states.

(Then the changes tune. The rhythm section slides in with a slow Chicago shuffle, think a mixture of “Peter Gun” and stripper music.)

Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Driving to meets we dodge the troopers and the stiiiiink of Gary … of Gary

(Side note: Gary is not a guy, but an Indiana industrial hell hole that you have to drive through between Chicago and Detroit.)

Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Next HeadFest here. Billy’s the man. We’ll all have fun. It’s going to be quite hairy… quite hairy.

(back to “Three Blind Mice” but in a very dumdy-diddly way.)

We are the mods. We are the mods.
Culturally sensitive squads. Culturally sensitive squads.
We’ll ban the trolls and axe dirty pix.
We’ll fill all your curse-words with asterisks.
We’ll lash you with lessons in Head-Fi civics. We’re
Head-Fi Mods. Head-Fi Mods.

(Now a drumroll quickly turns into a hard rock drum solo intro, and the “three Blind Mice” refrain begins ala AC/DC.)

TURN IT UP! TURN IT UP!
HEAD-FI ROCKS! HEAD-FI ROCKS!
(in a whisper) Then we’ll turn it down to save our ears.
(little louder) No brew will be spoiled by our salty tears.
(full-on sing) And we’ll keep our hearing for years and years. Cuz’
(Angus Young) HEAD-FI ROCKS! HEAD-FI ROCKS!

(Now the music completely changes to a big band hop sung like the Lennon Sisters)

Hey! Lookie there, no avatar, a post count of one.
The newb has no i-de-a that they’re in for some fun.
We’ll wrap our cans around their head and then they’ll be stung!
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

Back again with place of birth and postcount of two.
The box is in the corner and it’s covered with drool.
The disc is in, the tubes aglow, a grin like a fool,
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

A gear list in the signature and post count of three.
Photos of the pile of gear are posted with glee.
They’re staying up till 3 AM a tapping at keys.
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

An avatar, opinions, and a post count of four,
Go ahead and post again, we’ll roll on the floor,
It’s obvious that they don’t need reminding once more,
Sorry about your wallet!

(Back to “Three Blind Mice” but this time like the oppressing drumbeat of the guardsmen’s march in the wizard of OZ. You know: Oooo – eeeeee – um. EE – oooooooo – um.)

We’re the trade. We’re the trade.
You think we’ve got it made. You think we’ve got it made.
But we stand all day as we talk and greet,
We get out of bed and pain shoots from our feet.
But HeadFest is different and, oh, so sweet.
We’re the trade. We’re the trade.

(Back to a happy full-on Three Stooges version of the tune)

Thank you Jude. Thank you Jude.
You’re such a helpful dude. You’re such a helpful dude.
You tweak our servers to make them fast.
You’ve handled the traffic that we’ve amassed,
A now you’re the anchor of our Podcast.
Thank you Jude. Thank You Jude.

(Finally, at a gleeful shouting romp)

Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
Come in and have a seat. Come in and have a seat.
If you like music and sporty gear,
Then we’ve got the stuff you’ll like to hear,
And we’re ready to show it year after year, at
Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
YEAH!

I propose we take a page out of "The Little Rascal's" book and carve a chunk of time out of the festivities next HeadFest and perform it. Whadda ya say!?
post #2 of 13
"New York lurks. New York lurks.
Darn those Florida jerks, darn those Florida jerks.
We’ll post in the morning and by week’s end
The line’s out the door and around the bend,
And soon we’lll have meets that never end, cuz
New York works, New York works."

So sad, but that DOES sound like us. Nice Epic Ditty, Tyll! The best tunes are the ones hummin' in your head!
post #3 of 13
BRAVO!!

Epic work Tyll! That was really something. Who's going to put it to music and sing it first?! Billy? Patrick82? Ray? Can't wait...
post #4 of 13
Quote:
Originally Posted by Tyll Hertsens View Post
So, seventeen hours of driving and thinking about the just-completed HeadFest can make a body a little loony. So I wrote this little ditty...OK, big ditty:

HeadFest Comic Can-Opera
Largely inspired by coastally displaced Floridian misadventure.

(Unless otherwise noted, the music is the theme song from “The Three Stooges,” you know it, “Three Blind Mice.” During performance it is customary that the parts also be sung with audience participation by the contingents present.)

Head-Fi Meet, Head-Fi Meet
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da
We schlep our gear to the conference room,
We do it so we can share our tunes,
We’re just a big bunch of headphone goons, we’re
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da.

Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da
Head-Fi Meet, Head-Fi Meet
This morning our breath smelled like hotel eggs,
At noon cables dangled between our legs,
Tonight we’ll eat Sushi and drink from kegs, we’re
Flor – i – da, Flor – i – da

Meet is done, meet is done,
Now for some fun, now for some fun
We coil up our cables and close the meet.
Put boxes in cars and head into the heat.
We giddily waddle our flatland streets, we’re
Flor – i – da, flor – i – da

HEY! You guys. Hey, you guys!
What a big surprise. What a big surprise.
You’ve piles of gear and cables by yards
You normally post like hard-core bards
Get onto your laptops, unload those cards, cuz
WE WANT PIX! WE WANT PIX!

(The all goes quiet and we hear a tympany roll. Still “Three Blind Mice” but in the style of a basso sea shanty.)

New York lurks. New York lurks.
Darn those Florida jerks, darn those Florida jerks.
We’ll post in the morning and by week’s end
The line’s out the door and around the bend,
And soon we’lll have meets that never end, cuz
New York works, New York works.

(Then the music changes. After a short namby-pamby flute and harp introduction, we hear a light and meaningless refrain of Elizabethan parlor dance music. Think tall white wigs and 50 pound hoop dresses, and people doing a stately square-dancing-like thing.)

Weeeest Coast dudes like driving near the beach - and – oc - eans, (ting)
Waaaalking pace with bursts of fury calmed by our I – E – Ms. (honk)
Meeeeets so cool and joy - ous fill our Kar - ma a - gain. (Budhist gong)
Duuuude, please watch your yooo - gurt near my brand new R-10s. (splat!)

(Back to “Three Blind Mice”)

Our meets are big. Our meets are big.
Red Sox Rule! Red Socks Rule!
(then the next two lines in a heavy Boston accent.)
We live near the harbor and up down-east,
We slurp on our chowder and have a feast,
But our members are winners no doubt in the least, ‘cuz
Our meets are big. And Red Socks Rule!

What about us? What about us?
Fly over states. Fly over states.
Your sirens and traffic and stadium cheers,
Have gunked up your triodes and rattled your gear.
Look down from your planes and you’ll see we have ears.
Fly over states. Fly over states.

(Then the changes tune. The rhythm section slides in with a slow Chicago shuffle, think a mixture of “Peter Gun” and stripper music.)

Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Driving to meets we dodge the troopers and the stiiiiink of Gary … of Gary

(Side note: Gary is not a guy, but an Indiana industrial hell hole that you have to drive through between Chicago and Detroit.)

Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii- town. And De-troit.
Next HeadFest here. Billy’s the man. We’ll all have fun. It’s going to be quite hairy… quite hairy.

(back to “Three Blind Mice” but in a very dumdy-diddly way.)

We are the mods. We are the mods.
Culturally sensitive squads. Culturally sensitive squads.
We’ll ban the trolls, axe dirty pix.
We’ll fill all your curse-words with asterisks.
We’ll lash you with lessons in Head-Fi civics. We’re
Head-Fi Mods. Head-Fi Mods.

(Now a drumroll quickly turns into a hard rock drum solo intro, and the “three Blind Mice” refrain begins ala AC/DC.)

TURN IT UP! TURN IT UP!
HEAD-FI ROCKS! HEAD-FI ROCKS!
(in a whisper) Then we’ll turn it down to save our ears.
(little louder) No brew will be spoiled by our salty tears.
(full-on sing) And we’ll keep our hearing for years and years. Cuz’
(Angus Young) HEAD-FI ROCKS! HEAD-FI ROCKS!

(Now the music completely changes to a big band hop sung like the Lennon Sisters)

Hey! Lookie there, no avatar, a post count of one.
The newb has no i-de-a that they’re in for some fun.
We’ll wrap our cans around their head and then they’ll be stung!
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

Back again with place of birth and postcount of two.
The box is in the corner and it’s covered with drool.
The disc is in, the tubes aglow, a grin like a fool,
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

A gear list in the signature and post count of three.
Photos of the pile of gear are posted with glee.
They’re staying up till 3 AM a tapping at keys.
Sorry a-booouuut your wallet!

An avatar, opinions, and a post count of four,
Go ahead and post again, we’ll roll on the floor,
It’s obvious that they don’t need reminding once more,
Sorry about your wallet!

(Back to “Three Blind Mice” but this time like the oppressing drumbeat of the guardsmen’s march in the wizard of OZ. You know: Oooo – eeeeee – um. EE – oooooooo – um.)

We’re the trade. We’re the trade.
You think we’ve got it made. You think we’ve got it made.
But we stand all day as we talk and greet,
We get out of bed and pain shoots from our feet.
But HeadFest is different and, oh, so sweet.
We’re the trade. We’re the trade.

(Back to a happy full-on Three Stooges version of the tune)

Thank you Jude. Thank you Jude.
You’re such a helpful dude. You’re such a helpful dude.
You tweak our servers to make them fast.
You’ve handled the traffic that we’ve amassed,
A now you’re the anchor of our Podcast.
Thank you Jude. Thank You Jude.

(Finally, at a gleeful shouting romp)

Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
Come in and have a seat. Come in and have a seat.
If you like music and sporty gear,
Then we’ve got the stuff you’ll like to hear,
And we’re ready to show it year after year, at
Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
Head-Fi Meets. Head-Fi Meets.
YEAH!

I propose we take a page out of "The Little Rascal's" book and carve a chunk of time out of the festivities next HeadFest and perform it. Whadda ya say!?
noooooooo ... this is not the one you told me. sorry only between me and Tyll, due to some adult content prohibited by Head-Fi.
post #5 of 13
Thread Starter 
I'll try to sing and record it so someone can get it written down. That's going to maybe a week, and it'll be a pretty sad recording. But I demand that they write a rythm ukulele part for me. I can play any jazz cord, but NO solos. And there's gotta be lots of folks up on the stage singing the parts or I won't go up there.
post #6 of 13
Uke with Hawaiian Shirt combo. That'll work!
post #7 of 13
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jahn View Post
Uke with Hawaiian Shirt combo. That'll work!
Too bad Don Ho just recently passed away. Could have been perfect.
post #8 of 13
This is hilarious. So who gets to be the fat lady?
post #9 of 13
Thread Starter 
Quote:
Originally Posted by GlendaleViper View Post
This is hilarious. So who gets to be the fat lady?
Oh! Maybe I'm hogging the stage but, I'd like that part!
post #10 of 13
Because it just ain't over until the fat *ahem* "Lady" plays the euke!
post #11 of 13
I see someone has quite alot of time on their hands now that their new product line has been rolled out.

Quite nice of a song. However it needs a Tyll-themed music videos à la 1970/1980s style like Earth, Wind and Fire's. I'm thinking crazy spin+blur effects and star wipes. That'd be sweet.
post #12 of 13

That's just so awesome. You need a verse of your own

Troubadour Tyll, Troubadour Tyll
Hertsens rocks, Hertsens rocks
On the long boring ride back to Montana
Inspired from smoking some <havana>
When Head-Fi's got Tyll, who needs Nirvana
Troubadour Tyll, Troubadour Tyll
post #13 of 13
Genius!
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