MUSIC YOU’LL NEVER LISTEN TO/TV YOU’LL NEVER WATCH REVIEW

by James MacLaren

Strauss Gala/Univision

Wiener Philharmoniker/Your Livingroom tv

Willi Boskovsky/Unknown and or Various

London (PolyGram)/The Usual Suspects (Soap, Soda, Suchlike)</b>

So of course it’s the middle of the day on Saturday and you’ve only been awake

for just a little while but you’re already bored. The X-Games are on ESPN, but

how many times can you watch some guy on a skateboard take a bone-breaking fall

before that wears a little thin?

Idea.

Go get the cd’s and dig out the Strauss Gala. All three brothers. Joseph,

Johann, and Edward. In the liner notes there’s a little woodcut-looking

illustration of the trio, doing some kind of Teutonic boogie, arm in arm on top

of a large, recumbent fiddle, with a swarm of exotic musical notes flying in the

air around their heads. That’s pretty much all you need to know right there.

Flick the tv to Univision. Saturday mornings and afternoons are especially good

on Univision. Be sure and mute the sonofabitch. You can’t understand what

they’re dancing around and singing about anyway, so it’s not like you’re missing

anything.

Turn on the cd player and sit back and listen to the Strauss boys give it the

business.

Now we’re getting somewhere.

A comparison and contrast essay, if you will.

When Germans (Austrians, Germans, it’s all the same) decide to have a little

musical disvertissment, they do it in their own inimitable style. The Strauss

boys typify this peculiarly rigid method of doing the fandango as well as

anybody. Everything is all tightly controlled and reined in while simultaneously

there’s a certain madness that underlies the whole operation at all times.

On Univision it’s almost the exact opposite. Nothing is reined in or controlled.

Loony color schemes and bizarre costumery compete with one another to see which

can give you a headache first. And yet, underneath it all, there’s a pattern, an

order. But it’s well hidden and you have to look for it.

The two go together exceptionally well.

While Strauss is doing a polka (no, not the Myron Florin kind) and the orchestra

is blazing away like crazed gerbils on every instrument you’ve ever heard of and

a few you haven’t (up to and including the odd blast or two from a hunting

rifle), there’s a lady on Univision sashaying around in some kind of evening

gown that looks like it was designed jointly by Larry Flynt and NASA.

Madam Gown is singing. On a stage that looks like it wishes it was the sign in

front of some gaudy Las Vegas casino. Lotsa lights. Extremely saturated primary

(for the most part) colors.

Strauss is banging on a piece of railroad track, among other things.

Madam Gown gestures extravagantly to her audience. The audience gestures back.

With brightly-colored pompons. Somebody handing out pompons at the door? What’s

up with that?

Strauss shifts gears and swoons through a syrupy mix of strings and muted french

horns.

Madam Gown flounces to the back of the stage and makes eyes at her backup band.

The boys in the band are dressed just as flamboyantly as can be and eyeball Miss

Gown right back. Leers all around. No shortage of silk, kerchiefs, or sequins

here. Nice hats, too. Even the conga drums are dressed up for the occasion.

Down in the fundament of my loins, I can feel the kidney stone that I was afraid

I might pass with great pain, shuddering and dissolving under the onslaught of

this cultural bouillabaisse. This is powerful stuff. Better take it easy and lay

off here pretty soon. Don’t wanna overdo it.

Strauss has found the fowling piece once again and is using it with abandon.

Madam Gown has been replaced by some huckster extolling the virtues of some damn

thing or other, mike in hand.

Time to cut the power and maybe go check the surf.