07/30/2025

Another Thursday evening come and gone, Gentle Reader(s), another Matador Playlist for the ages. This week’s installment makes no uncertain recognition of the momentous passing of John Michael Osbourne—heavy metal founding father and reality teevee pioneer known popularly as ‘Ozzy.’ I will admit, I was never much of a Black Sabbath fan or a fan of the metal genre in general, but if there was one outfit I could claim some abiding affection for it was Ozzy, Tommy, Geezer and Bill. My brother had a couple of early Sabbath records when we was kids and those thick, sludgy Iommi riffs became embedded deep in my adolescent psyche. I can definitely say that I prefer Black Sabbath to much/most of what followed their in their trailblazing footsteps: Iron Maiden, Deep Purple, Metallica, Judas Priest, Slayer, the Crüe, etc, etc—sure, there are some great songs here and there but for the most part, I got no use for ‘em, thank you very much. These artistes do indeed reside in the DJ Inky music library and I’ll play them at Ye Olde Matador Bar & Lounge without a moment’s hesitation, but the likes of it will enjoy scant air time in the sacred confines of my own home. As a fan of America’s Pastime (aka, the Beisbol), and of the Chicago Cubs in particular, it is with pleasure that I will steer you to Ozzy’s rather, uhh, idiosyncratic rendition of ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’ as guest conductor for the 7th inning stretch at Wrigley Field back on August 17, 2003. Appearing a bit unsteady on his feet and uncertain of the song’s lyrics, Ozzy improvised some shambolic scat singing of a sort to make it a highly memorable occasion. In the final reckoning, as the toll of 76 years of the rock & roll lifestyle finally caught up with him, Ozzy held on just long enough to make it through the all-star tribute/Sabbath farewell concert extravaganza on July 5th before shuffling along off this mortal coil just over two weeks later. Now that's impeccable timing.
07/13/2025

Let us have one other gaudy night. Call to me all my sad captains; fill our bowls once more. Let us mock the midnight bell.

W. Shakespeare - Antony & Cleopatra

Welcome back, Gentle Reader(s), to that perennial classic, that itch you just can't quite scratch, that musical pebble in your shoe—another Matador Playlist from the DJ Who Wouldn’t Go Away. Actually, I did go away for a bit but, whether for ill or gain, I have returned. Whenst and wherefore you ask? Well you might. Off to the Great North Woods I have been—to the land of pernicious ticks, lurking bratwurst (or vice versa), Great Lakes, Good Lakes, So-So Lakes, an abundance of puffy white people, and lingon berry pancakes at Al Johnson’s restaurant in Sister Bay. All was well and good and Inky Mum abides still, her 97th birthday forthcoming in just over one month’s time. 'Amazing!' you say—'Astounding and unprecedented!' and right you are. Having returned I took up the gauntlet once again and ventured down down down to the Cimmerian lurkage of Ye Olde Matador Bar & Lounge for yet another gaudy Thursday night session. Few of my captains, sad or otherwise, were in attendance but the midnight bell was well mocked regardless. The fruits of my nocturnal labors are presented here below for your delectation and edification.