Jason: Jeff, we’ve covered so many tracks for Mellowmas.
Jeff: It sure does feel that way.
Jason: At the very least, we’ve covered 87 tracks over the past four editions. But we’ve also done doubles and triples on some days. So I’m guessing we’re nearing the 100-song mark.
Jeff: I hadn’t thought of that, but I guess we are. It’s a huge, crappy milestone!
Jason: I’d hug you if I didn’t feel so sick to my stomach right now. But you know what?
Jeff: I’m going to hate myself for asking, but…what?
Jason: I think we’ve neglected a very special type of Christmas track.
Jeff: No, we did three Very Special tracks a few days ago. I remember. shiver
Jason: No, not that type of Very Special. I’m talking about spoken-word tracks.
Jeff: You wouldn’t.
Jason: Oh, I sure as hell would, pal.
Jeff: SPOKEN WORD MELLOWMAS?
Jason: Spoken. Word. Mellowmas. Spokenmas.
Jeff: You’re like the Karl Rove of made-up holidays!
Jason: I’m glad you brought him up.
Jeff: Oh, shit.
Jason: I know you know what I’m talking about. Because you were the one who sent it to me in the first place.
Jeff: Shit, shit, shit.
Jason: That’s right, folks: in his Christmas collection, Jeff has none other than…RUSH LIMBAUGH.
Jeff: I can explain! Actually, no, I can’t.
Jason: Don’t even bother. Everybody’s left. Jon Cummings just had a seizure.
Jeff: Poor Jon.
Jason: Poor Jon? He hasn’t even heard it yet! Poor US! I’ve had this track since 2006!
Jeff: I’ve had it since at least 1993. It was part of one of those Stars Come Out for Christmas compilations that Taco Bell sold. You remember the ones.
Jason: I do. I believe that’s how we started linking Christopher Cross to chalupas.
Jeff: The CDs that included such luminaries as Kathie Lee Gifford, the Bellamy Brothers, and, yes, Christopher Cross.
Jason: There’s a lot of inherent humor in tying Rush Limbaugh to Taco Bell, too. Man, what I wouldn’t give to tie Rush Limbaugh to a Taco Bell.
Jeff: He’d eat the whole building. And then he’d just go home, like nothing happened.
Jason: I’d be shoving bricks in his mouth.
Jeff: If there’s a happy side to this story, it’s that, from what I’ve read, the guy who put these compilations together — I think his name was Steve Vaus — didn’t pay any of the artists.
Jason: There is no happy side to this story, Jeff. You have a CD with Rush Limbaugh on it.
Jeff: Well, at least Rush Limbaugh at least didn’t make any money from this.
Jason: That’s such a small consolation, I don’t even know what to do with it.
Jeff: Spread it over your chalupa.
Jason: I spread it over your mom’s chalupa last night.
Jeff: Choke it down along with Rush Limbaugh’s version of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
Jason: I’m looking forward to sharing this one with everybody. They’re all going to be so angry.
Jeff: “I spread my small consolation over your mom’s chalupa last night.” –Jason Hare, 2009
Jason: Somewhere, my aunt’s ears are burning.
Jeff: Good. That’ll make three of us.
Jason: Are you ready to listen to Rush Limbaugh spread some holiday cheer?
Jeff: I refuse to say I am. Let’s just…get this over with.
Jason: Ready?
Jeff: I won’t say it!
Jason: Go!
(more…)
Two years later, armed with a new vision of an R&B/rap hybrid that could take over the pop charts, Farian assembled a crack lineup of expatriate-American vocalists in his studio outside Frankfurt. He named his new act Milli Vanilli, and later claimed the phrase meant “positive energy” in Turkish. (In fact, the phrase translates directly as “National Vanilli.”) Forsaking glamour in his search for the ideal marriage of voices and songs — he even released the group’s album in a plain black-and-white sleeve, to preserve an air of mystique — Farian emerged with an irresistible sound that dominated first the European charts, and then American pop radio for much of 1989.