My victory even got some coverage from Associated Press national political writer Liz Sidoti, who wrote, “A slew of cities selected mayors …”

A win-win all around!

No question it was an exciting campaign right up to the very end, what with David Byrne dropping out of the race just one day before the election. He said it was a show of solidarity with Afghanistan’s Abdullah Abdullah, another big fat quitter, but I think he just couldn’t take the heat.

Green Party candidate Bob Marley, on the other hand, was a cool customer, never raising his voice at any of the debates or even bothering to give a concession speech Tuesday night. Then again, he’s been dead since 1981. (In case you were wondering, the “green” his party represents isn’t exactly the kind Ralph Nader supports.)

And then there’s Matt Wardlaw. Poor, poor Matthew. He didn’t take his defeat very well. He must have still been drunk when he shot me this e-mail Wednesday morning: “You must not have seen the final poll results, and apparently the steel-toed boot that I hired to kick your sorry ass out of Bootleg City went AWOL.”

Sorry, Mr. Wardlaw, but the guys I hired from Afghanistan’s Independent Election Commission say I received 99.9 percent of the votes that were cast, compared to Mr. Marley’s 33.5 percent and your -32.5 percent, so don’t get your hopes up about a recount — numbers don’t lie. People do, but not the guys from the IEC. (They told me they used the metric system.)

Mr. Wardlaw went on (and on and on) in his e-mail to say, “Nevertheless, I will be saving Mr. Marley a spot in my cabinet, and we’ll be working together, along with Mr. Byrne, to deliver a newly improved Bootleg City that all of the citizens will be able to be proud of, at long last.”

You mean your kitchen cabinet, Matthew? Because that’s the only place you’ll be stuffing Jamaica’s most famous human export, though it’s obviously not a proper resting place for the country’s ambassador of reggae.

This week’s featured bootleg is James Brown & the Soul Generals with Maceo Parker, performing at Klein Auditorium in Bridgeport, Connecticut, on November 27, 1987. It was a charity concert to benefit disabled and handicapped children, and the Godfather of Soul donated his entire paycheck for the night to the cause.

That’s how we Georgia boys roll, you see. Not that I’ve ever donated any paycheck of mine to a worthy cause, unless you count Bootleg City’s Anti-Prostitution League. It’s run by former prostitutes, but I was under the impression that it was a “fight fire with fire” sort of deal. It turns out I was wrong. (The less said, the better.)

The J.B. bootleg comes from Matt Boles, who wrote me from somewhere in the Ozark Mountains on Wednesday to say, “Well, man, I checked out the CNN. They kept talking about some bullshit election in Virginia and another in South Canada or someplace like that. But I finally saw it along the scroll, dominating exit polling data that gave the experts the ability to call you the projected winner with 10 percent of the precincts reporting.” Wow, even more national coverage!

Matt B. added, “I realized I actually did some work with that very charity back when I was in high school. I was a freshman in college by the time this concert came around. I would like to think I could have been there. Small freakin’ world, huh?”

Yes, it is, Matt. And life is too short, which is why I’ve decided to take my vacation now. Election campaigns can really take it out of a mayor. Besides, the honeymoon always ends so quickly, which is right when the criticism begins. Who needs that kind of pressure? That’s why I’ve decided to spend my first 100 days in office out of the office this term. In my place you’ll be hearing from some other citizens of Bootleg City, like Mr. Wardlaw, as well as government-distrusting mountain man Matt Boles, the “self-proclaimed Minister of Entertainment and Fast Food” for our fair city. See you in January!

[opening jam]
[intro]
Give It Up or Turnit a Loose
Living in America
Doing It to Death
Georgia on My Mind
Get on the Good Foot
What My Mama Said
Make It Funky
There’s No Business Like Show Business
[civic announcement]
How Do You Stop
I Got the Feelin’
It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World
Super Bad
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
What My Mama Said [Pt. 2]
What My Mama Said [Pt. 3]
Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag
Please, Please, Please
I Got You (I Feel Good)
I Got You (I Feel Good) [Pt. 2]
Out of Sight
[outro]
[closing jam]

Before I leave the office without actually leaving office, I’ll leave you with a campaign contribution from the King of Grief. I was hoping he’d contribute cash, seeing as how he’s royalty and all, but instead he gave me a remix of Yes’s “Leave It,” as heard in the end credits of the band’s 9012Live concert:

Leave It [Hello, Goodbye Mix]

Everyone except the mayoral candidates whose asses I’m totally going to kick on November 3, that is. On that note, here’s my final attack ad of the campaign season:

Last summer Matt Wardlaw was quoted as saying, “Taco Bell and I have a relationship that dates back to an infamous church youth group trip in the late ’80s.”

So what else is Matt Wardlaw not telling us that he already did tell us but not without it being taken out of context?

For starters, just last week Mr. Wardlaw told Mayor Robert Cass, “Not if you were the last immigrant grocer on Earth!” But why does Mr. Wardlaw hate immigrant grocers? And does he plan to molest them the way he molested 14 innocent Mexican-American tacos in 20 minutes back when Republicans were still in the White House?

On November 3, don’t vote for a molester of tacos or any other foods made by hardworking, minimum wage-earning, American Dream-having immigrants. Vote for Robert Cass. Vote for him for Mayor.

Paid for by the Committee to Re-elect a Mayor Who Isn’t Addicted to Vinyl or Any Other Mind-Altering Substance.

Start packing up your campaign headquarters, Mr. Wardlaw, Mr. Marley, and Mr. Byrne. Just like my last four years in office, this one’s gonna be a no-brainer. (I should probably use my prize money to hire a new speechwriter. Come to think of it, why does my current speechwriter keep mentioning prize money in my speeches? Was I supposed to get a check back in 2005 when I won the first time? Ed McMahon’s dead, so now what? Of all the luck …)

Remember, vote for your mayor on Tuesday. Vote “Yes!”

And speaking of Yes, this week’s bootleg is an audio rip of the prog-rock band’s 9012Live concert film (1985), directed by Steven Soderbergh four years before he made his first feature film, Sex, Lies, and Videotape. And speaking of sex, lies, and videotape, I’ve heard there’s a spicy Mexican combination plate featuring all three in Matt Wardlaw’s sordid past, but why don’t you ask him yourself, voters — I’m not one to spread gossip.

Once again, vote “Yes!” on Tuesday. But not for Wardlaw. Even though he’s the one giving you Yes. Vote “No!” for the Yes guy. (Please, try to keep up.)

The footage on 9012Live was recorded September 28-29, 1984, at Northlands Coliseum in Edmonton, Canada. I’m pretty fond of “City of Love” myself, because that’s how I like to think of Bootleg City. Of course, there’s not enough love for everybody here, which is why Matt, Bob, and David will be owners of lonely hearts come Tuesday.

Cinema
Leave It
Hold On
I’ve Seen All Good People
Changes
Owner of a Lonely Heart
It Can Happen
City of Love
Starship Trooper [Pt. 1]
Starship Trooper [Pt. 2]
[end credits]

With four candidates vying to be this city’s next mayor — and each one of us drawing roughly 25 percent of the vote in the latest tracking polls — I had no choice but to create negative attack ads (as opposed to positive attack ads, which usually feature footage of me engaging in surprise tickle fights). They’ll begin airing next week, but because I like you so much and know you’ll vote for me simply because you need all the friends you can get (we’ll discuss your wardrobe later), I’d like to offer you a verbal preview of each ad.

First up, the most inspirational opponent of the bunch but also, oddly enough, the least lively:

Bob Marley wants to be your next mayor. If elected, he promises to “stir it up” at City Hall and restore “one love” to Bootleg City.

All he asks is that voters “get up, stand up” to elect Mayor Robert Cass out of office. But how can Mr. Marley get up or stand up when he’s been lying down … for the last 28 years?

Could you be loved by Bob Marley? Isn’t the more urgent question “Could you be dead, Bob Marley?”

The answer is yes. Because he is.

On November 3, vote for a candidate who’s still alive. Vote for Robert Cass for Mayor.

Paid for by the Committee to Re-elect a Mayor Who’s Never Shot a Sheriff.

Next up, the oh-so-worldly David Byrne:

Once in a lifetime, a mayoral candidate comes along who can truly make a difference.

David Byrne is not that candidate.

In 1977, during a failed bid for the office of county dogcatcher, Mr. Byrne told reporters, “It’s gonna make life easy for me … I will relax along with my loved ones … Don’t you worry ’bout me.”

Do you really want a mayor who expects to relax once he’s elected? A mayor who will spend more time in Africa pretending to care about their music than in the city he pretends to call home?

If David Byrne doesn’t worry about the government, who will?

Don’t let David Byrne build a road to nowhere. On November 3, take him to the river and drop him in the water. (Metaphorically speaking, of course. Don’t hurt the guy or anything. Mayor Robert Cass doesn’t need another martyr like Bob Marley on his hands.)

Paid for by the Committee to Re-elect a Mayor Who Isn’t a Psycho Killer. (Qu’est-ce que c’est?) A Mayor Who Won’t Kill You. (Merci beaucoup!)

I also have an attack ad for my third and final opponent, Matt Wardlaw, but I’ll save it for next week just to keep him in suspense, not to mention awake and paranoid at all hours so he can tire himself out before the final push. Besides, I’m already showcasing one of his many donated bootlegs this week: Bad Company, performing at Hard Rock Live in Orlando, Florida, on May 21, 1999. Hmm … Matt Wardlaw … bad company … These attack ads pretty much write themselves, as you can see.

A supergroup formed in the early ’70s by members of Free, King Crimson, and Mott the Hoople, Bad Company took their name from director Robert Benton’s 1972 Western, which stars a fresh-faced Jeff Bridges. (The band also named one of their songs after themselves. Or they named it after the movie as well. Which leads me to wonder if Jeff Bridges has an unreleased pet project called “Living in a Box” sitting in a studio vault somewhere in Hollywood.)

I suggested to Mr. Wardlaw that he take his new campaign slogan from the title of another film starring “the Dude.” But which one? The Last American Hero? The Contender? Iron Man? What about Stay Hungry? Against All Odds? Fearless?

Or how about 1982’s Kiss Me Goodbye? I’ll take a rain check on the kiss, Matthew, but on Tuesday, November 3, it will be time for you, Bob, and David to say goodbye to your political hopes and dreams in Bootleg City. (I love being a politician. It’s like a free pass to be the cattiest bitch the world has ever known.)

Can’t Get Enough
Honey Child
Rock Steady
Ready for Love
Tracking Down a Runaway
Shooting Star
Seagull
Soul of Love
Movin’ On
Hammer of Love
Young Blood
Hey Hey
Feel Like Makin’ Love
Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy
Run With the Pack
Bad Company
Live for the Music

I’m relieved, of course, that the children are back safe and sound — as is my official hagiographer, who was still working off his hangover a couple hours ago — but I can’t help but be disappointed in Mr. Anderson’s timing. Sorry to nitpick, but if you’re going to steal a town’s entire tween-and-under population in an election year, it makes more sense to return them the day after Halloween, right?

That way there are only a few days left until the election, the whole abduction can be blamed on a combination of evil spirits and a Sweet Tarts sugar high, and the incumbent mayor can look like a hero for never giving up hope that the children would be returned, even if, technically, he gave up hope a half hour after they disappeared. Besides, with 18 days left until the election, there are countless ways my opponents or random circumstance could force me to screw up again through no fault of my own.

Speaking of Halloween, I’ve picked up another celebrity endorsement! It’s a … well, it’s a puppet. A 12-year-old boy puppet named Spook House Dave, to be exact.

Look, I know he’s not exactly Miss Piggy, but he’s a sweet, funny kid, and besides, do you know how hard it is to even get Miss Piggy on the phone? She’s like the Oprah of felt-and-foam-based endorsements. Ain’t gonna happen, no matter how many strings I pull.

This week’s bootleg comes to you courtesy of Matthew Boles — it’s Motörhead performing at Pontushallen in Luleå, Sweden, on November 27, 2000. Fans of umlauts and “angel As,” this is your week! Typography fans who are still angry about Ikea changing its font from Futura to Verdana, this is your week too! And fans of frontmen who are even scarier than Ian Anderson at first sight, you can’t go wrong with Lemmy Kilmister. Just keep him away from the children of Bootleg City, please.

By the way, I’d like to dedicate Motörhead’s song “No Class” to my opponent Matt Wardlaw, who will no doubt dedicate “Shoot You in the Back” to me. (No surprise there.) I’d also like to dedicate “Over Your Shoulder” to my opponent Bob Marley, who’s run a truly inspirational campaign this fall, especially when you consider the fact that he’s dead. (Medicinal marijuana really can work some minor miracles, folks.) I’ll certainly be looking over my shoulder for him on election day.

I’m just kidding — he doesn’t stand a chance. (I would say “He’s a dead man,” but really, what’s the point?) I’m sure Mr. Wardlaw would like to dedicate “Killed by Death” to Mr. Marley, but that doesn’t sound very sportsmanlike, now does it?

As for our other opponent, David Byrne, he’s no doubt a fan of “Going to Brazil,” since that’s where his head’s been this entire campaign. Voters, do you really want a mayor who always thinks global, never local? After all, if you throw me out of office on November 3, you’ll be doing yourselves and the environment a disservice. I mean, why add to Bootleg City’s waste management problem when you can simply recycle?

We Are Motörhead
Bomber
No Class
I’m So Bad (Baby I Don’t Care)
Over Your Shoulder
Civil War
Metropolis
Shoot You in the Back
God Save the Queen
Born to Raise Hell
Damage Case
Going to Brazil
Iron Fist
Killed by Death
Ace of Spades

… My sources have just informed me that Mr. Rooney is still alive. I’m sure they’re wrong, but I don’t want to embarrass them, so I’ll check Wikipedia after I get home.

So far the only endorsement I’ve gotten is from Jethro Tull frontman Ian Anderson, who made the trip to Bootleg City only after I convinced him that I’d gotten my hands on the world’s oldest instrument, a 35,000-year-old flute discovered by archaeologists in Germany last year. Once he arrived, I explained that my e-mail contained a few extra zeros, not to mention a gratuitous three and five.

Mr. Anderson wasn’t thrilled about traveling thousands of miles to receive a brand-new flute made in the Little Germany neighborhood of Bootleg City, but he did seem to enjoy the flute whipping he gave me, which was apparently a first. I was inspired to create a new tourism campaign with the following tag line: “Bootleg City: Experience the Unexpected (Just Be Prepared for Some Violence).”

I convinced Mr. Anderson to stay and give a talk to all the children of our city about the consequences a rock musician faces when he continues to play flute solos into his 60s. I left the City Auditorium during his speech so I could send my condolences to all the former Mrs. Mickey Rooneys of the world, but when I returned, the children were gone.

Some of these kids’ parents are still waking up from that disastrous Wizard of Oz screening. What am I going to tell them? “Sorry, folks, but a modern-day Pied Piper whose band won a Grammy in 1989 for Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance, Vocal or Instrumental, has run off and taken every child in the city with him. It’s a mystery as to why. I mean, everybody knows that award should’ve gone to Metallica.”

My opponents are going to have a field day with this one, especially Matt Wardlaw. He didn’t provide me with today’s bootleg — which was recorded for WMMR 93.3 FM at the Tower Theater in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania, on November 25, 1987 — but I’m sure he’ll get a good laugh at my expense from the second song on Jethro Tull’s set list.

Then again, I’ve gotten lots of good laughs from the fact that Mr. Wardlaw’s sole celebrity endorsement, Simon Le Bon, ran off to Rio last week for some easy Olympics tie-in money as soon as the IOC made its decision about the 2016 Summer Games.

So sad, Matthew. Maybe Warren Cuccurullo is looking for someone to get behind this fall? It never hurts to ask, you know.

Songs From the Wood
Thick as a Brick
Steel Monkey
Farm on the Freeway
Heavy Horses
Living in the Past
Serenade to a Cuckoo
Budapest
[instrumental]
Wond’ring Aloud
Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Day
Jump Start
Too Old to Rock ‘n’ Roll: Too Young to Die!
Aqualung
Locomotive Breath
Wind Up

First there was the August catnapping that turned out not to be a catnapping. (Cats who take naps don’t make me paranoid, hence the use of the compound word. Nevertheless, they’re always watching. Don’t forget that.) But then came September’s disastrous outdoor screening of The Wizard of Oz and those particularly potent poppies planted purposely in front of the screen.

You could chalk that one up to garden-variety stupidity on my part since I’m the one who ordered the poppies, but let the records and tapes and whatnot show that I’ve never tried to hide that stupidity from my constituents, nor have I ever been smart enough to know where to hide it in the first place. But what if the poppies were switched out by one of my opponents in the upcoming mayoral race to make me look bad?

What if it was a dirty trick played by David Byrne, the talking head who impresses everyone with his inhumanly broad shoulders and worldly knowledge of worldly music? (Remind me to throw some money the anti-birthers’ way so they can do a background check.) Or what if Bob Marley’s trying to take my job from beyond the grave? If former attorney general John Ashcroft could lose a Senate seat to a nonbreather in 2000, what chance would I have in a town like Bootleg City against a pro-marijuana candidate? The man even has a self-penned campaign song called “Legalize It.” (Check yo’ self before you check my facts, Marley fans.)

Or what if it was Matt Wardlaw, the upstart candidate who entered the race this week? Isn’t it an odd coincidence that he’s the one who provides me with new bootlegs week after week? None of these “donations” were really for “the people,” were they, Citizen Wardlaw? I think this guy’s trying to sabotage my campaign so voters will give me the boot on November 3! Just take a look at the compilation he sent me this week — it’s volume three of Y100 Sonic Sessions, taken from live-in-the-studio recordings made  for WPLY 100.3 FM in Philadelphia in 1999.

I mean, for the love of Christ 2.0, a.k.a. Scott Stapp, Creed’s on this thing! Creed! The first band in rock history to actually be sued for sucking! Art is subjective, but apparently some fans at Creed’s concert in Rosemont, Illinois, on December 29, 2002, decided, “Nope, nothing subjective about this. Tonight’s performance just flat-out suuuuuuucks. And now you’re going to pay for it, Creed.”

Why are you dropping this A-bomb on me, Matt? What did I ever do to you? Look, if you want to play rough, we can play rough. But let me warn you, sir — if you have any Sanford or McGreevey or Letterman-type skeletons in your closet, you’d better bring them out now, because my team will find them. And if there are any Polanski-type skeletons in there, you might as well leave town immediately. For the next 30 days the gloves are off, Mr. Rock and Roll Hall of Shame! (Matt’s from Cleveland. He’ll never recover from that attack.)

I Alone (Live)
Malibu (Hole)
Kickin’ My Heart Around (The Black Crowes)
So Pure (Alanis Morissette)
Ana’s Song (Open Fire) (Silverchair)
Only Happy When It Rains (Garbage)
Our House (Madness)
Concertina (Tori Amos)
The Way (Fastball)
Kind & Generous (Natalie Merchant)
What’s This Life For (Creed)
All for You (Sister Hazel)
Someone’s Daughter (Beth Orton)
Don’t Drink the Water (Dave Matthews)

Me: You two have been making music together for nearly 40 years. What do you consider to be the secret to your success?

Oates: Well, Daryl and I have a healthy balance of give and—

Hall: (interrupting) Take one-fourth of John and three-fourths of me and you’ve got the winning formula. We’re the Beatles of the post-Woodstock generation, no question. It was the same with them in their day: three-fourths Lennon and McCartney, one-fourth George, and one-fourth Ringo.

Oates: I’m pretty sure that adds up to—

Hall: The most successful rock ‘n’ soul group of all time, right after the Beatles. Exactly.

Me: Alright … well, speaking of the Beatles, they achieved quite a lot in the ten years they were together, but you get a sense that after a while they felt overwhelmed by the whole aura of “the Beatles.” Did you two ever consider breaking up so you could establish your own musical identities?

Oates: Well, again, there’s the balance—

Hall: (interrupting again) Like tires, you know? Balancing tires. Some people say John’s the third wheel in this group, but he’s the fourth — because I’m three-fourths of the winning formula, right? We’re not a bicycle, we’re a … Well, I guess you need four tires for a car … and I don’t think of us as a tricycle, so … Okay, here’s the new formula — I’m four-fourths of why we’re successful, and John’s one.

Oates: That still equals five-fourths.

Hall: Hey, how ’bout that — just like the Beatles!

Oates: We’re not the Beatles. Please, just— … For the record, I don’t think we’re the Beatles.

Hall: Confidence, John, confidence! So what if no one buys your solo albums? You’ve always got us. And the sound I created for us. Hey, Mr. Mayor, did you know that? That I created the Philly soul sound? [Philadelphia International Records founders Kenneth] Gamble and [Leon] Huff came first, but my spiritualist says there’s a strong chance I was their great-great-grandmother in a previous life, so in a way I gave birth to them, and then they gave birth to my sound before John and I got the chance to—

Oates: (screaming) Enough! For God’s sake, what the hell is wrong with you?!

Hall: What? What’d I say?

Oates: I can’t do this anymore.

(Oates yanked off his lapel mike and stormed out of the room.)

Hall: I’m really sorry about that, Mr. Mayor. That was uncalled for.

Me: It certainly was. (screaming) Where do you get off treating a beautiful, sensitive artist like that?

Hall: Man, what is with you short people today?

Me: That’s what I’m talking about — you have a partner who’s on the small side who doesn’t have a Napoleon complex and this is how you treat him?

Hall: Hey, he knows where his bread’s buttered.

Me: He told you that?

Hall: Well … not in so many words.

Me: Daryl, I’m about to administer some tough love to you. Can you handle it?

Hall: Of course I can. As four-fourths of the most successful rock ‘n’ soul—

Me: Stop. Stop it. Stop talking. Stop bragging. And for God’s sake, stop using terms like “rock ‘n’ soul.” Look, everybody knows you’re a terrific singer and a talented musician. No one’s questioning that. So cut it out with the ego trips. You’ve accomplished a lot. Your legacy is secure.

Hall: What do you mean, “accomplished”? Why the past tense?

Me: Oh, c’mon, you don’t really think–

Hall: You’re not going to call us “1980s pop superstars” in the intro of this thing when it goes online, are you?

Me: No. Why would– … No, of course not.

Hall: (screaming) I knew it! How am I supposed to gain any traction as Hall & Oates– I mean, how can John and I gain any traction when people keep dwelling on the past? Yeah, the past was great. We were bigger than the Beatles and Jesus combined. But this thing is just beginning. The best is yet to come! Why can’t you see that?

Me: What I see is a man who should be proud of all he’s done. A man who shouldn’t let the critics get to him.

Hall: Wait, the critics don’t like me?

Me: No, no, I meant the old critics, not the new ones. Not the ones who discovered you through Chromeo or, like, the Death Cab for Cutie guy’s semi-ironic appreciation.

Hall: “Semi-ironic”? That’s not what [Death Cab's Ben] Gibbard said to me!

Me: What I read on Pitchfork a few years ago sounded semi-ironic, but maybe it was just me. Forget I said it, okay? Bottom line is, people love Hall & Oates, even if they don’t know it. C’mon, let’s stay focused here. We’re starting to make a dent.

Hall: Says you!

Me: Yeah, that’s right! Says me! And me also says you need to go find John and apologize for treating him like he’s a second-class citizen. Because as I recall, nobody’s bought your solo albums recently, either.

Hall: Whoa. That’s low, Mr. Mayor.

Me: No. That’s life, Daryl.

(I then put my hand on an adult-education textbook for emphasis. Daryl acted like he wasn’t impressed, but he totally was. Right then Oates walked back into the room.)

Oates: I, uh … I think my comb fell out of my back pocket. You guys didn’t see it, did you?

Me: Daryl, now that John’s back, why don’t you tell him what you just told me?

Hall: What, about us being bigger than Jesus and the Beatles? That’s old news to John, but if you want, here’s the backstory: see, in 1984 Jesus visited me in a dream and said, “I’ve decided to pass the torch to–”

Me: No! John, Daryl’s really sorry for the way he acted.

Oates: No, he’s not.

Me: Yes. He is. Tell him, Daryl.

Hall: Hey, he’s the one who interrupted a great interview.

Me: It wasn’t that great. Tell him!

Hall: John … I’m … I’m sorry, you know.

Me: And nobody cares about Hall if there’s no Oates.

Hall: Well, I don’t know about–

Me: You don’t know what you’d do without him? Neither do I. Because you guys are a team. You need each other. And people still need your music in their lives. Your music — the music you made together.

Hall: Yeah … yeah, he’s right … just like my great-great-grandchildren, Gamble and Huff. It’s written in the stars!

Me: Sure, whatever makes you understand the yin-and-yang concept.

Hall: Funny story — the drawing of yin and yang came from a cocktail napkin I scribbled some lyrics on in 1971.

Me: Aaaaagggghhh!!!!! I will not let you break my brain, lion face!

Oates: Hey, put the letter opener down!

(I re-sheathed the letter opener and backed away from Hall’s jugular.)

Oates: Look, it’s cool, Mr. Mayor. The truth is, my book agent loves these stories, and I got a good advance on my memoirs thanks to those Jesus bits. So keep ‘em coming, Daryl.

Hall: You mean it?

Oates: Yeah, brother. I do.

(Hall and Oates grabbed each other’s right hand as if they were about to arm wrestle, just like on the cover of their Rock ‘n Soul Part 1 LP. Then they stared at each other and began to sweat profusely, just like on the back cover of their H2O LP. I got the impression that they always make up this way.)

Me: Woo-hoo! I feel like Bill Clinton negotiating peace between Israel and Palestine.

Oates: Yeah, ’cause that solved everything.

Hall: Mr. Mayor, did you know Private Eyes was Arafat’s favorite album? …

… And so it went. But the fact that Daryl mentioned Private Eyes, one of the albums he made with John, instead of 3 Hearts in the Happy Ending Machine, his 1986 solo album, showed real progress on his part. I was proud of what we accomplished that day in Bootleg City, and what H2O will continue to accomplish as partners.

This week’s featured bootleg, courtesy of Addicted to Vinyl’s Matt Wardlaw once again, is an audio rip of Hall & Oates’s Rock ‘n Soul Live DVD, which also contains their 1985 Live at the Apollo performance, featuring David Ruffin and Eddie Kendrick(s) of the Temptations. The Rock ‘n Soul Live concert was recorded in March of ‘83 at the Montreal Forum, and the Apollo Theater set was taped on May 23, 1985.

Rock ‘n Soul Live
Family Man
Diddy Doo Wop
Italian Girls
Kiss on My List
She’s Gone
Art of a Heartbreak
One on One
You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling
I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do)
Sara Smile
Wait for Me
Maneater
Private Eyes
Open All Night
You Make My Dreams
Room to Breathe

Live at the Apollo
[introduction]
You Make My Dreams
Get Ready (with Eddie Kendrick)
Ain’t Too Proud to Beg (with David Ruffin)
The Way You Do the Things You Do (with David Ruffin and Eddie Kendrick)
My Girl (with David Ruffin and Eddie Kendrick)
Everytime You Go Away
When Something Is Wrong With My Baby

Last week in Bootleg City, to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the classic MGM film about a girl named Dorothy and her three bachelor uncles, I put together a special outdoor screening in MacArthur Park. To make it even more special, I trucked in a bunch of poppies and planted them right in front of the screen.

Unfortunately, almost as soon as Leo the Lion finished roaring, people started passing out left and right. It turns out those poppies were opium poppies, just like in the movie. But can you really blame me for thinking sleep-inducing flowers were a fictional device created specifically for the film? Honestly! Munchkins? Flying monkeys? A land where gay men are granted basic human rights? All that stuff is make-believe!

But opium poppies, as it turns out, are real. And now I’ve accidentally put 2,000 taxpayers in a coma. And when they wake up, most of them will be opium addicts.

Hmm … I wonder if I can keep them asleep until after November 3. I have a feeling a few of them might not vote for me if they wake up in time for the election.

Posies don’t have opium in them, do they? Good. Because this week the featured bootleg is “The Last Show,” a document of the Posies’ farewell performance on September 19, 1998, at San Francisco’s Bottom of the Hill. Of course, the Seattle power-pop group then reunited in 1999, 2000, 2001, and every year after that, culminating in 2005 with the release of their first album in seven years, Every Kind of Light.

That same year the Posies’ two core members, Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow, teamed up with Alex Chilton and Jody Stephens for Big Star’s reunion album, In Space. Surprise, surprise, that lackluster fourth LP isn’t part of Rhino’s new Big Star box set, Keep an Eye on the Sky, which came out on Tuesday. But Auer and Stringfellow have been performing with Big Star for 16 years now, more than five times as long as original members Chris Bell and Andy Hummel. They may not have written the songs that children by the millions fall in love with whenever they hear #1 Record (1972), Radio City (1974), and Third/Sister Lovers (1978) for the first time, but they’ve clearly made their mark as latter-day members of the group.

Apology
Love Letter Boxes
Throwaway
Please Return It
Somehow Everything
Any Other Way
World
You’re the Beautiful One
Suddenly Mary
Terrorized
Dream All Day
Precious Moments
Hate Song
Flavor of the Month
Solar Sister
Grant Hart
Surrender
Daily Mutilation
Ontario
Flood of Sunshine

The loss of that online income has to be taking its toll on the two surviving Beatles, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, especially in this economy, which is why I extended an invitation to both of them to stay on my couch until the global recession is over. Each one responded by sending me a $10,000 couch. Spending money you don’t have — it’s a real sickness. And where the hell am I going to put these gigantic couches in my one-bedroom apartment?

The following tracks come from the bootleg “Rarer Than Rare,” with information about recording dates, concert locations, and other assorted Beatlemania minutiae included in the comments section of each MP3 file. Audio quality varies from track to track, but it’s the Beatles — what have you ever done for them?

More to the point, what have you ever done for me? Oh, by the way, I’ve got a couple of couches I need to unload. Each one costs $20,000. (You heard me …) And don’t say you can’t afford it, because those credit-card companies wouldn’t send you all those offers if they didn’t want you to use their money. Think about it. I haven’t.

Some Other Guy
Things We Said Today
From Us to You
I Should Have Known Better
If I Fell
Kansas City/Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey
I’ll Follow the Sun
Help!
I’m Down
Magical Mystery Tour
It’s All Too Much
The Fool on the Hill
I Am the Walrus
Piggies
Maxwell’s Silver Hammer
The Walk
You Never Give Me Your Money
Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight
Oh! Darling
Step Inside Love (Paul McCartney)
Blackbird (Paul McCartney with Donovan)
Act Naturally (Cilla Black and Ringo Starr)
Slippin’ and Slidin’ (John Lennon)
Stand by Me (John Lennon)
Imagine (John Lennon)
Bye Bye Love (Paul Simon and George Harrison)
“My Sweet Lord, He’s So Fine” [George Harrison interview]
“Farewell to Miami” [radio interview]
The Concert for Bangladesh radio ad
Band on the Run radio ad
“Decade: 1964-1974″ radio ad

In August of ‘07 Ringo was interviewed by the Associated Press while promoting his new best-of compilation, Photograph: The Very Best of Ringo Starr. The Beatles’ music has lost none of its charm in the past 45 years, and neither has its drummer’s sense of humor.

AP: So, Ringo, you’re 67 this summer.
Starr: You’ll have to speak up (laughs).

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since I last talked to y’all on Popdoze so Bobby C. could have another week off. I’m a big fan of Sugar Water (Stop it, you’re embarrassing me! —Ed.), so I was sad to see it move from entree to after-dinner mint on Bobby’s menu when he became mayor of Bootleg City last fall. But we all have to make sacrifices when we take on new responsibilities, don’t we?

Take me, for example — my son, Levi, is almost 14 months old. Can y’all believe that? Crazy. I can’t even remember life before he was born. Part of that’s because of the weed, but life really does change once you’re a daddy. And my wife, Camila, is expecting our second one by the end of the year.

Whoa, did I just say “wife”? Back up, y’all — that was a slip of the tongue. Camila’s my partner. My main squeeze. My colleague in baby raisin’. But not my wife. Neither of us are into that right now. Maybe one day, but we’re not like normal people — we don’t need the tax breaks, know what I mean? When you’re rich, money has no effect on love.

Of course, the language barrier can be a problem. Camila’s from Brazil, and I’ve been tryin’ real hard in these online Spanish classes I’m takin’, but nothing seems to work. Three of our nannies are Mexican, and even they don’t understand her. I think it’s because she talks so fast. I tried slowin’ her down with some ‘ritas, but now she’s got another little McConaughey inside her, so she can’t drink. I never had this much trouble with Penelope when we were goin’ out, but her English kept gettin’ better, at least until she dumped me, and suddenly it was all “How you say, ‘Javier Bardem has substance’?” Did you see him in that Coen brothers movie? Awful hair. Hey, I just call it as I see it, y’all. And like my daddy always said, “People who have substance are bound to abuse it.” Remember that.

Yeah, life’s pretty good right now. Levi’s a little scoundrel, still tryin’ to breast-feed eight months after Camila cut him off. Fight the power, little man! And Camila and I still find plenty of time to exercise and hit the beach while Levi’s bein’ watched by the nanny army. So I guess there really aren’t that many sacrifices for family life when you’re a rich movie star like me. Hell, I can’t even spell “re-sesh-un.”

Yeeeeee-hawwww! Texas style!

But seriously, y’all — stay in school.

I gotta hit the beach, but before I go, let me ask y’all something: Do y’all remember the late ’90s? It’s hazy for me because of all the partyin’ I did, but I seem to recall Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the Spanish-American War, ragtime music, Grover Cleveland’s second nonconsecutive term as president …

Wait, that’s the late 1890s. Hold on, let me take my shirt off so I can think better. I don’t know why I ever put these things on in the first place.

Okay, now I can breathe.

Let’s see, the late 1990s — according to Wikipedia, there was Bill Clinton, Bob Dole, Monica Lewinsky, the Y2K panic, a John Grisham movie I was in where I solved racism long before Barack Obama came along (he got elected on my 39th birthday — that was no coincidence, y’all), a Steven Spielberg movie where I cured slavery, every other song on the radio talkin’ about the millennium, Columbine, Princess Diana, me gettin’ arrested for nothing more than playin’ the bongos naked in my apartment with a buddy of mine, and a Robert Zemeckis movie where I tried real hard to make Jodie Foster sleep with me, but she just wasn’t havin’ it. Threw me for a loop, y’all. She seemed kinda stuck-up, if you wanna know the truth.

Maybe you’ll recognize some of the songs below. They’re from Y100 Sonic Sessions, Vol. 2, and they’re brought to you by another cool customer named Matthew — Wardlaw’s the name, and he’ll be providin’ another six volumes in the Sonic Sessions series before all is said and done. These aren’t my favorite songs of the late ’90s, but Mayor Casserole said, “I need a hook. Please allow me to exploit your fame.” What can I say, y’all? I’m honored. (Matthew’s manager would now like me to remind you that you can pick up a copy of Ghosts of Girlfriends Past on Blu-ray or DVD Tuesday, September 22. –Ed.)

Remember, no labor this weekend — unless you’re havin’ a baby. And even then, what’s the rush? That little baby’s got all the time in the world. Alright alright alright …

Later, taters.

The Old Apartment (Barenaked Ladies)
You & Me & the Bottle Makes 3 Tonight (Baby) (Big Bad Voodoo Daddy)
Inside Out (Eve 6)
Jumper (Third Eye Blind)
Brimful of Asha (Cornershop)
Let’s Forget About It (Lisa Loeb)
Save Tonight (Eagle-Eye Cherry)
Kate (Ben Folds Five)
In Your Eyes (Jeffrey Gaines)
Walkin’ on the Sun (Smash Mouth)
Barely Breathing (Duncan Sheik)
Shimmer (Fuel)
Never Is a Promise (Fiona Apple)
Closing Time (Semisonic)
No Woman, No Cry (Wyclef Jean)
Never Tear Us Apart (INXS)