Pathetic human nutrient preparations! Prepare to scoff!

Readers observe! I have discovered ancient human scrolls indicating procedural nutrient preparation for temporal celebrations! Their rituals are more pitiful than I had previously considered! Now is the time of scoffing and anticipation of the human downfall! Prepare to receive data!

It is true that humans know that their heads are their most delicious possessions, for their succulent brains are stored within! They will attempt to deceive you with these ridiculous head simulants while the actual humans escape with their real heads! Observe their pathetic construction! They are not even dimensional! These are merely planar glucose preparations with facial simulations constructed from smaller food items! DO NOT BE DECIEVED!

Here are a row of foolish humans, confident that their head simulants have made them safe from brain consumption! Look at them, brazenly displaying their delicious brains! Pathetic humans! YOUR CONFIDENCE IS ERRONEOUS!

Humans believe they know the technique of preparing Horta for temporal celebration gatherings! Here we see a tray of roughly circular shapes and thinly sliced animal film surrounding a small Horta! Their intent is to eat the horta! Humans lack the understanding of Hortas enjoyed by Oteogg! THIS HORTA IS NOT DEAD! If the humans merely engage their infrared vision, they will see this!

Observe! The Horta's hindbrain is still very warm! Just wait until the insolent humans cut into it with their type-II phasers! There will be acid and much crying out of "My pathetic human skin! Acid! Burning it!" BEGIN LAUGHING NOW!

I am Oteogg! I have spoken!


Lord Mott's Clamato - Good lord, Mott!

In 1966, two employees at the Mott's company wanted to make a kind of Manhattan clam chowder cocktail that could be stocked on store shelves indefinitely in a can. It turns out that, rather than being a fireable offense, this constituted a new product launch. Today's ad comes to us two years later in 1968, by which time the product had become "Lord Mott's" Clamato. Apparently, old man Mott had become a titled landowner, riding high on the raging success of canned seafood drinks.

What's that you say? It would be simply unfair to rag on a drink I've never tasted? You're completely right. Let's get to work. I've never tasted human flesh either, but I feel confident that it's gross. I'm not saying Clamato is human flesh, so shut up. I'm just shooting down the ancient and retarded motto "Don't knock it 'till you try it." I've never driven a tent peg into the bridge of my nose either, but... well, you know the rest.

I'd heard of Clamato before, when I was a busboy at a restaurant. I've lugged many cases of it up from the basement at the behest of the bartender, never sussing out that the "clam" in "Clamato" meant clam juice. Frikkin ugh! Clams tend to taste, to me, like spoiled chicken, with the added bonus of a texture like snot. This implies to me that the food is best experienced in the sinus cavity and not in the mouth. Why would I want to slurp down expensive spoiled nose chicken when I can just have some perfectly good chicken? Take the spoiled nose chicken, liquefy it, combine with tomatoes and spices, and can it for a nonspecific period of unrefrigerated time and you have Clamato. Seafood should be treated like a delicate thing that needs to be fresh. The fresher the better. The Japanese know this. A clam-based drink which can be left in a cabinet for a year warrants suspicion. There's a huge gray area between "safe to consume" and "should be consumed.".

That, I believe.

As mentioned in the ad, you can make a drink with Clamato called a "Bloody Caesar", which , surprisingly, wasn't made up by Lord Snot* Lord Mott just to sell Clamato. The Caesar is a cocktail wildly popular in Canada, and found almost nowhere else. Weirdly, the Wikipedia article says it was invented in 1969. But this ad is from a 1968 issue of LIFE, calling it a "Bloody Caesar". Hmm. Since making up similes to describe clams is more fun than researching the true origins of a potentially unpleasant drink, let's just paste in the recipe for a Caesar from Wikipedia and go grab some non-nasal breakfast.

Basic preparation of a Caesar follows the "one, two, three, four" rule. The recipe calls for 1–1½ oz of vodka, two dashes of hot sauce, three dashes of salt and pepper, four dashes of Worcestershire sauce and topped with 4–6 oz of Clamato and served with ice. The ingredients are poured into a glass rimmed with celery salt or a mixture of salt and pepper and garnished with a celery stalk and lime. The Caesar is an unusual drink in that it can be mixed in bulk and stored for a period of time before drinking.

The Caesar's creator, Walter Chell, "reasoned that the mixture of clams and tomato sauce would make a good drink, and mashed clams to form a 'nectar'". I would have stopped him right there and sent him home for the afternoon.

I must now assert that both Clamato and the Caesar may very well be the greatest thing ever. I am speaking from a standpoint of ignorance, and therefore these opinions should have no weight. It may be that clams needed to exist in Clamato form in order to become delicious, and I don't know what I'm missing. I'll make and drink a Caesar on the same day that I also drive a tent peg into the bridge of my nose, and maybe both will be delightful, sublime experiences. Also, a mixture like tomato juice and mashed clams may come pouring out of my nose after I do both of those things.

*Please enjoy Hugh Laurie (House), as Lord Monty, Emma Thompson (Love, Actually, Etc.) as Miss Moneysterling, and Stephen Fry (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Hobbit) as Lord Mott Lord Snot on The Young Ones, from 1984.


Little Ads - Self, improved! (Self not included.)

Anvil Brand work clothing makes it easy to build your own robot son, or perform simple home vaccinations on your flesh-son with tools found around the house.

LAYOUT ARTIST  "Should we put 'steering gear' nearer to the front of the car? After all, we're supposed to know about cars."

ART DIRECTOR  "It's fine. It's just a cloud of text around a car illustration. Stop being so literal."

LAYOUT ARTIST  "But we put 'front end' and 'rear end' in the right place. That implies that we're calling out parts of the car, and that we're trying to put the callouts near the parts they're associated with."

ART DIRECTOR  "I said it's fine. It's just an example of the things you can repair with our book. It's. Fine."

LAYOUT ARTIST  "...things they can repair with our book... which doesn't know which end steers the car."

ART DIRECTOR  "You're fired. Go clean out your desk."

LAYOUT ARTIST  "You always talk down to me. I think we should see other people."

ART DIRECTOR  "Fine! GREAT! And, I might as well tell you that all those 'frivolous' quotation marks you made us pull out? They're going back in!"

Learn While asleep! Sleep while choosing illustrations for ads! Not associated with manufacturers of Mystical Hover-Hat. Also not affiliated with National Oyster Foundation.


Seasonal Obligation Card - Get yours before it becomes an Annual Fraudulent Resolution Day Card.

Exmess is coming up, in a bunch of shopping days or whatever. Make your holiday experience pretty much the same, except for having a copy of the 2012 Phil Are GO! Seasonal Obligation Card today! Send us some kind of physical address and that'll take care of it. Nervous nellies can read our marginally reassuring FAQ about privacy and stuff here.

Let's Holiday!


Utica Sleepers - Ai ai ai! Muchol racismo!

The Forties were a different time. Super-square honkies got to walk around like they owned the place, ignoring the existence of people who looked or thought or philosophised differently than they did. It's the world that some people miss dearly. It was a time when you could use racial stereotypes as advertising and no one would notice. Simple times. Behold! Utica "Bodygard" sleepers with jolly jumping bean designs in "gay mexicolors", from 1949. Please try to remember in the future that, pink, blue, yellow, peach, and green
apparently qualify as "mexicolors".

 I guess the whole "jumping bean" thing is because kids in footy pajamas are adorable or whatever and their parents call them jumping beans. Or something?

 The jolly jumping bean family comes from "down Mexico way". How did this phrase get started? You never hear people say "I'm just in for the holidays. I came from up Boston way." They only say this about Mexico. The only place I know the line from is the Sinatra song "South of the Border". Turns out this song is from a 1941 film called, oddly enough, "Down Mexico Way".

I became aware of the song in the Simpsons episode Kamp Krusty, in which Krusty the Klown takes the campers to "the happiest place on Earth - Tijuana!" after things go to the dogs at his officially licensed summer camp. Then a Sinatra sound-alike begins crooning  Down Mexico Way over the closing credits. I like the song. Very catchy, but listeners should be warned it has a few kinda stereotypey things at the end ("ai ai ai", etc.)

So, are we to believe that, down Mexico way, the kids there wear PJs with fun little pictures of white people on them, walking around with briefcases, seething with marital strife over meatloaf dinners and getting divorced and dying of congestive heart failure at the age of 45? Would that be any less insulting than a family of Mexicans portrayed as living beans?

I think the only real outrage about these pajamas is that they taught children of the Fifties that elephants are indigenous to Mexico (see image below). What kind of madhouse nightmare world are they trying to create? Just to avoid embarrassing myself, I checked to see if there is some weirdo species of Mexican elephant that I hadn't heard about, and nope, there isn't. But, I did find a great line of informative text on the Wikipedia page, though. get ready for education, people!

"The word "elephant" has its origins in the Greek ἐλέφας, meaning "ivory" or "elephant"

There is another other outrage, I now realize I can type "wikipedia" twice as fast as I can type "Mexico"

Haz clic para grande.


1964 Indy 500 Program - Picture pages, picture pages...

Alert Reader Steve Miller sent in these pages scanned from an actual 1964 Indy 500 program. It's an avalanche of unnecessary quotation marks and (mostly) two-color printing. Also some great typography. Hats off to Steve! Don't forget to appreciate that in '64, anyone who wanted to see footage of old races on demand had to become a film hobbyist, buying a projector and ordering reels for the modern equivalent of $78 each. Now we have the FaceTube. This is better.

Back in '64, Indy cars were basically metal hot dogs with tall skinny wheels. Super cool. In later years, they would grow giant chrome trombones sticking out of the back, which amplified their glorious noise and their coolness by a billion percent.

We can only assume Steve was there at the '64 race. Sure, I wasn't born yet, but I'm still jealous.

Please enjoy the racial stereotyping of this Peugeot ad. Even the French make fun of the French? What goes on?


Two goons, one pan.

Joke #1 - "Your egg's right there, see? An' it's sunny side up. It's just we got us a small chicken is all. So shaddap, you mug!"

Joke #2 -  "Hahaha! You're right, Charlie! Dat dere is a pan! You're plenty good at dis game! I like playin' 'dat dere' wit you!"

Joke #3 - Charlie and Viv saw the pan at the same time, and agreed to split it. That's what made them such good friends. They were both terribly hungry, but they still couldn't eat the pan raw. Hmm. They were going to need a larger pan to fry it in.

Joke #3 - "Okay, come on now, Viv. The whole alley is starving. Share and share alike. Put the cigar in the pan."

Joke #4 - "You call this a pan? Well, yeah, I guess I do too. It really is a fairly typical example of 'pan-ness'. I really have to wonder why I asked. Sorry."

Joke #5 - Two fun-loving hoods playing the popular depression-era street game "Where is a pan?

Joke #6 - "...an' my wife hit me with it, right in the face. An' when I peeled the pan off, my face was all pan-shaped. Course I blinked twice, and my eyes made that 'plunk plunk' sound, and I looked all surprised. Then my face popped back to normal. It was all painful-like, but I'm fine now."    -The ugly problem of spousal abuse in The Thirties.

Joke #7 comes to us from occasional commenter Richard Mahler. Thanks, Richard!"Hey, how come they accuse us of panhandling when this here pan ain't even got no handle? Huh?" 

[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.   -Mgmt.]

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Seasonal Obligation Card card cattle call.

It's the time of year for anxiety and stress, readers! The Phil Are GO! Image Manipulation and Blandishment Brigade is hard at work on this year's Seasonal Obligation Card design. For the price of zero dollars and zero cents, you can get your super very own copy of the Phil Are GO! Seasonal Obligation Card by emailing your postal address to philarego@gmail.com. Please find our FAQ below, for answers to any and all possible queries, or just if you're bored:

Q - How do I know you won't use my address to stalk me or send kids to my house selling those stupid overpriced candy bars for their alleged school?

A - You don't know, as such, but stalking people and stuff is a lot of work, and we're just too lazy to bother. In fact, people who received a copy of our Seasonal Obligation Card card last year still need to re-ask and re-send their address this year. Their addresses are probably on file somewhere, but we can't be bothered to go through emails from a year ago to find them. See? Pretty lazy.

Q - Why do I want one of your stupid holiday cards?

A - Good question. I dunno. Because they're free?

Q - Why no jokey post today? Just this card announcement?

A - We're busy making sure tomorrow's post is a real horn-honker. (Note to self: Remind interns to make tomorrow's post a real horn-honker. Better call in to the office from the frisbee golf course to check on their progress. Have the Motivation and Shame Supervisor crack the whip a little on the interns.)

Q - Is the card going to be funny?

A - Hopefully. Especially if you make a little puppet out of it and make it tell jokes.*

Q - Can I get more than one card?

A - Maybe? Can't hurt to ask. It can hurt to ask for a stack of 100.

Q - Can I send Phil Are GO! a card?

A - Why? We'll have loads of them, since we'll be getting them printed up.

Q - Will this year's card contain any "post-consumer content"?

A - Eew. No. Sicko.

A - Oh! You mean recycled paper? Hell no. That cheap grey paper we used to practice handwriting on in third grade was made from recycled paper, and it was terrible for writing on and erasing on. Recycled paper makes terrible paper. No wonder people just keep recycling it.

*Jokes told with a Phil Are GO! Seasonal Obligation Card puppet are the responsibility of the Seasonal Obligation Card recipient and Seasonal Obligation Card puppeteer. Phil Are GO! denies responsibility for any content recited by the Seasonal Obligation Card puppet.


1936 "Turret Top" body by Fisher - Turrets syndrome.

Hey moderns! Are you ready to learn about automotive construction techniques of sixty years ago? No??? Fantastic! Then read on!

The term "modern" just means "current". So, in whatever context you find the word, it's probably going to be hilarious if it's more than a few weeks old, especially when used to describe anything even vaguely technological. For some reason, this Body by Fisher ad opens by describing two kids as "moderns". I don't think I've ever heard anybody talk like that in a non-ironic way. Advertising from the Thirties is crammed to the rafters with ridiculous talk like this.

So WTF is "Turret Top"? Well, it's a registered marketing name,  so of course it has little to do with reality. It's Fisher's attempt to get you to associate their cars with safety and defense, even though a turret is either a cylindrical architectural feature or a rotating gun installation. "What's that have to do with the roof of a car?" you ask? Nothing! Whee!

Basically, the shape of the sheet metal forming the roof of GM cars was slightly convex (domed) for rigidity. Back in the Thirties, this mattered because the skin of the car was far more structural than today. The sheet metal forming the Modern (heh) cars are basically an intricate labyrinth of sheet metal with a very thin cosmetic set of body panels laid over it. Back in '36, what you saw on the outside was much closer to "what you get", in that the car was simpler in construction without the structure of the car and the appearance of the car being divided between two sets of sheet metal.

Actual numbers are hard to find, but it seems that, back when this ad first ran, sheet metal on the outside of cars was about 18 gauge (1.2 millimeters thick), while current cars use something like 22 gauge (0.68 millimeters thick). This makes sense, because in the old cars, that sheet metal was doing more to hold the car's shape, whereas today it's mostly not. The car is pretty much just as rigid without the body panels as it is with them, thanks to the unibody.

Pathetically, Volkswagen tried to use the same argument to tout the strength of the New Beetle in the early 2000's. The "Round for a Reason" campaign made a comparison between the New Beetle and the arched structure of the Roman aqueduct. This is bullshit. The car was round to make it cute, appealing to retro-minded people. It had nothing to do with strength. The current state of car design can produce a safe, rigid car that meets or exceeds all safety requirements regardless of whether it's round or square or whatever. The New Beetle was one of the worst cars of the time. It didn't have a reputation for being more or less structurally flimsy that other cars, but mechanically the New Beetle was junk.

So does all this mean your modern (heh) car is less safe than the 1936 ford? Absolutely not. Crumple zones, antilock brakes, and airbags make your car far safer than the Turret Top. Back then, cars were designed to be a stiff as possible in a crash. So when you hit something, the car stopped immediately, and your soft gooey body smashed into the steering wheel, dash, and windshield, releasing it's various goos and fluids all over the car's interior... if you're lucky. It's just as likely that the passenger compartment would fold up around you. Car designers did their best to make the car survive, but they had no clue how to keep the passengers alive.

As early as 1955, American cars offered two-point lap belts as an option, giving buyers the choice of being folded in half before being compressed longitudinally. This had the end result of folding you into quarters upon impact. This allowed the use of much smaller burial plots, and eased cemetery overcrowding substantially.

Here's that great crash test between a 1959 Malibu and a 2009 Chevy Malibu. It shows you everything you need to know.

Lastly, it's kind of funny that you can see the obvious shadow of the photographer, complete with fedora, on the little girl. Is this intentional or was it an unavoidable reality? No no. Of course there had to be a shadow. I mean did he have to wear a hat? Of course. It was 1936.

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1964 Buick LeSabre - Long night, double axel.

Look at that happy couple. So in love, coming home at first light, after spending a romantic night in the ocean. It must be a pretty fancy ocean, because they're dressed to the nines. Good thing they left the windows up on their beautiful '64 LeSabre, because it rained while they were "undah the sea".

I can't believe how much of the car continues after the rear axle. I guess that's where you put your trunk junk, and why domestic cars are the transport of choice for mobsters who need to travel with a corpse or two. Jeez, there must be loads of room in that trunk.

In fact, fully loaded, you might scrape the bumper sometimes. Good thing I'm here to alert General Motors to the problem. Here. Let me get that for you.

That's better. Now the young lovers are ready to load up the LeSabre with leftovers from the "bar mitzvah undah de watah" without breaking a leaf spring when they roll over a parking block trying to navigate the overcrowded parking lot. You're welcome.

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You can add the LeSabre to the growing PAG multicar pileup on your hard drive. Rude Finger Graphic Gift coming up. I didn't do flipped versions of the car, because moving the steering wheel to the other side would be a bit of work for not a big laugh, and you're not paying me enough for that.

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Cosco Metal Household Furniture - Triangle man, triangle man...

Here in The Modern Future, all citizens dwell together in various regions of The Blue Void, where strife and unrest are not known. Observe our efficient and easy-to-care-for kitchen furniture! It is formed of steel, for sturdiness and magnetism! You will express no emotion at our wonders! Emotions are frivolous. These are things of The Past.

The Blue Void provides warmth and nutrition, delivered on sturdy walnut-and-brass carts, for your pleasure. DO NOT EXPRESS PLEASURE! Socialization Guests will appear at the prescribed hour, and in the approved quantities, which is two.

You shall require four plates, for The Socialization Cake is moist and flavorful. However, one of your two Socialization Guests shall not ingest the Pleasure Fluid which is decanted from the Modern Brass-Finish Teapot. This guest shall not require fluid, as she has recently enjoyed a Kayo. Therefore, the number of the Pleasure Fluid Cups shall be three.

If there is inquiry as to the function of the Hourglass Step Stool, the Male Partner shall use the Demonstration Triangle to perform the Lifting of the Red Cushion ritual with the Swingaway Steps maneuver. And thus will all be known.

Socialization Cake may be wrapped in Nutrient Management Towelettes and carried by your guests to their own region of the Blue Void for subsequent ingestion. Also, leftovers may be stored in the Low-Temperature Refrigeration Cube as described in the scrolls.

Socialization complete! Let it be so written, so that none may forget.

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The Laboratory - Dr. Thrope and Miss VanDerVyne

Joke #1 - Patrick Stewart in the lab, hard at work on his career-defining treatment for not-having-baldness.

Joke #2 - Doctor Thrope had to admit that Miss VandDerVyne looked a bit mannish, but she microscoped like she was all woman.

Joke #3 - "For heaven's sake, Mis VanderVyne. You call that squinting? I'll show you squinting. Give me that!"

Joke #4 - "So what shall we call our new gum? I like 'Endoplasmic Reticulyummy'? Ooh! How about 'Dr. Thrope's Lab Wad?' "

Joke #5 - "What is it? What's the last letter? 'dontforgettodrinkyourovaltin-' WHAT IS IT?"

Joke #6 - "Wait, wait. Was that 'G T T C A C A A G A C G A C G G G A T C C T A T C A T C G A T C G C G T C A T C G A T T G T  C T A A T G' or was it 'G T T C A C A A G A C G A C G G G A T C C T A T C A T C G A T C G C G T C A T C G A T T G T  C T A A T C'? You know what? I'm just gonna write 'CAT'. Let's order lunch.

Joke #7 was secretly suggested by anonymous. Thanks, whoever you are! Dr. Ron Paul watches full of anticipation as his assistant attempts to audit the Federal Reserve's financial statements.

Joke #8 comes to us from Misterfancyhotballs2. Thanks, MFHB2! - "Well Miss Gulch, that may be how they observe things in Kansas, but I still say you can never be too safe with gamma irradiation...."

[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.   -Mgmt.]

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Arrow Shirts - Ignoring your wife in Paris.

We've reported before on Arrow shirts and their curious portrayal of the idealized man ignoring his wife/mistress. This ad comes from the same-ish year and the same ad campaign. Unsurprisingly, it seems to show the same man ignoring a totally different wife/mistress in another romantic location.

Feel free to go back and see our previous Arrow ad. This guy simply refuses to even look at his clearly gorgeous, clearly smitten companion. I guess he's just too impressed with himself and - wow, look at that chin! Sorry, I just noticed. That's a chin that could split an iceberg. Paired with his strangely short forehead, he kind of looks like a cartoon of manhood.

Sure, he's no Robert Z'dar (Whose chin is not fake. Go and look for yourself.), but it's a trivial matter to Z'dar him up a little in P-Shop.

So, back to our Paris scene. Just imagine all the romantic conversations this happy couple must have. Doodley doodley doodley...

"Oh, Darren, I do so love Paris. It's every so green and European. The weather is simply divine, not that you need to worry about humidity or wrinkles in your Sanforized wash-and-wear Arrow shirt. You look just as handsome as that weekend we spent in Tokyo. You remember, don't you? Me asking you if you wanted to go and see Shinjuku, and you staring up at the sky. Me gazing lovingly into your ear while you stared at that one tree. Shall we have dinner at a cafe tonight? There might be some buildings for you to stare at."

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Columbia Record Club, 64 Christmas Records - You must.

Gather round, children, and I'll tell you a halloween tale of Christmas that will turn your blood to slightly colder blood! It's the story of the record industry and their persistent attempts to screw the customer by forcing you to do one thing or another.
Way back in history, before anyone had an Internet and could get stuff and say things, record labels wanted you to belong to their club. They would seduce you in by giving you a short stack of records for a very low price. Once you were a member, you would HAVE to buy a minimum of records from their monthly catalog, which could have as many as 200 records. If you chose not to, they'd send you the "monthly selections" anyway at "normal club prices" which means retail, which is pretty damn high, especially for records you don't want and didn't ask for. This happened every month, until you tried to quit, and then you would be billed and litigated to death.

Times are different now, and record companies merely sue children and single mothers. Most business professors would suggest that acting as though you hate any potential customer is bad for business. Most business professors would say that the smart businessman would try to figure a way to motivate people to buy your product instead of stealing an inferior, supercompressed version of it. They may suggest that you're doing something wrong if some people (who obviously have at least a little bit of money) simply refuse to pay for your product. People are passionate about music. It shouldn't be that hard to get people to pay a fair price for it, right? But, never ones to resort to the carrot when there's a nice handy stick (covered with nails and herpes) close at hand, record companies prefer to sue the shit out of their dwindling customer base rather than figure out how to win them back. Good job. Old ads like this one remind us that they're been screwing their customers long before there was a Napster.

Aaaaaanyway, hey look! Christmas albums and year-round favorites! Yep, 1961 was pretty square. But it wasn't all a wonderbread wasteland. There are at least two brilliant jazz albums in there, and here is an explanation why they both make an excellent entry point for those who are jazz-curious, but who are a little intimidated by the weirdness of jazz.

Dave Brubeck's career-defining masterpiece Time Out was the first jazz album to sell more than a million copies. It's an exercise in "odd time" (rhythms with strange counts like five or nine beats per measure). This means it's hard to dance to without spraining your ankle, but don't let that scare you off. Each tune is catchy enough and hummable enough that you won't notice you're humming in a 9/8 time signature. It's structured and rational like Mozart, but still swings too hard to be boring. Once you begin to get your head around the weird rhythms, the deceptively simple melodies and complex time signatures reward those that stare with their ears* on repeated listenings.

Miles Davis' minimalist album Kind of Blue couldn't be more different than Time Out. One hates to say "jazz exploration" with a straight face, but Kind of Blue can help you do it. Its five songs are all blues-structured and ramble loosely to the seven-to-nine minute mark. The bluesiness makes it easy for jazz newcomers to grab on with a minimum of discomfort, being a familiar form. After that, it remains evocative and cool, so once again, you don't get bored. TThis is the album that made Davis famous for saying a lot with very few notes.

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*Catch phrase of Ken Nordine, surviving beat poet and voiceover icon.