I popped into the local used CD emporium, and there in the racks was Beat Farmers' TPOH, for $6. My eyes bugged and I snatched that bastard. I came home, and the only copy I can find (cursory search) online is at Djangos (used) for $40. Damn. Only tapes on eBay.

This brings my BF collection up to 3. I also have: and

Any other BF fans out there? Want to do some trading? I'd really like a copy of Tales Of The New West.

And yes, I've seen them live. This guy drank about as much as me & my friends put together.

You don't have a copy of Van Go? It's available used everywhere for cheap and is highly recommended.

You want a real copy of Tales of the New West you mean? Why didn't you buy the Rhino reissue when it came out?

I was unawares.

Nope, no gots. Let's just say they weren't a real high priority. I've just been collecting them as they came along.

I've always considered Pursuit of Happiness to be either the worst of the Beat Farmers releases or the beginning of the end. It was the first album they put out after the departure of Buddy Blue, and his replacement was Joey Harris (previously known from the pedestrian noo wave power pop band Joey Harris and the Speedsters). Harris may have been a good addition to the party, but he didn't help the music. "Hollywood Hills" is the only good song on TPOH, although an appreciation of it requires a tolerance for Harris' power pop Springsteenisms.

The CD reissue of Tales of the New West came as a two-fer with the Glad 'n' Greasy ep - it's easily the best place to start in the Beat Farmers discography.

Also look for Live at the Spring Valley Inn, 1983, a live recording made before the debut album that documented the band before it had developed into any kind of comedy skit. It's an amazing album, filled with great songs (originals and covers alike) and the raw arrogance of a young band that just KNEW it was destined for immortality and fame... funny how that sort of thing is so hard to predict.

Also, after Country Dick's death up in Whistler, the surviving members Jerry Raney, Joey Harris, and Rolle Dexter reunited with Buddy Blue and put out an album as the Farmers. I haven't heard it, so I can't say if it's any good or not.

Buddy Blue died a couple years ago. He put out a bunch of solo stuff over the years, with Guttersnipes and Zealots being the most sonically similar to the Beat Farmers (it even included a new version of "Gun Sale At The Church"). He then veered off into big band jazz/ R & B and stayed there - with Pretend It's Okay and Dipsomania being the highlights IMO.

These days Joey Harris and Jerry Raney are in a band called Powerthud.

Wow, thanks for the great info. I'll keep an eye peeled for Tales, but it may be a while before it turns up somewhere.

Did Blue die of alcoholism, I wonder?

Answers should be in this thread: Buddy Blue RIP

OMFG.

FOR OC WEEKLY'S SEX ISSUE:

By Buddy Blue

Through nearly a half-century of intensive, first-hand study and application, I've come to consider myself an authority on the art of repulsing fellow human beings with my body, and of all the parts from which to glean junior hi-jinks gratification, the scrotum is unquestionably both the most useful and versatile. While it doesn't lend itself to snot-cannon competition like the venerable meat whistle; cannot clear a room as swiftly and comprehensively when exhibited and/or employed as the coughing purple starfish; doesn't present prospects for hours of rewarding excavation as do the nosary-snouffers and can't produce a functionally practical substance such as otic polish or optic glue, the chicken-skinned sheathing of man's crotch-potatoes nonetheless provides an inexhaustible wealth of mirth and merriment for all who come to appreciate its winsome wonders.

While space limitations preclude a comprehensive discussion of the yocks and chortles potentially yielded by the variety of scrotal stunts a professional sac-manipulator such as myself has learned to terrorize the citizenry with,* consider the following a primer for gonadal greenhorns. Be patient, work hard and your body too, can be transformed into a veritable temple of disgust!

Jim Rose, call me. I'm ready to go to work.

1.) BUBBLEGUM ON THE BARBERSHOP FLOOR
This one's a cinch, even for beginners: simply unzip the fly, dive in and pull out a length of man-taffy. Stretch the bolus as far as possible (really, its marvelously lithe) and display to horrified onlookers. The title of this trick, along with your lovely pink coloration and wealth of southern whiskers, will put witnesses off Bazooka-chewing for weeks, guaranteed.

2.) THE PRESSED FRUITBOWL
Another relatively easy one, but this can present logistical difficulties for fat guys such as myself, for whom torsal bloat can impede 100% success. Anyway, get a friend to drive you around a heavily-populated quarter, then simply drop trou and squash the silly putty against a window. Voila! Spectators will never look at citrus produce quite the same ever again.

3.) THE COIN PURSE
Potentially painful but ultimately well-worth the discomfort, this one is for intermediately-skilled plum-pranksters. Unzip thyself and hang the full quivering jello district from your pants. Zip back up as tightly as possible until the parcel is throbbing and pulsating like a baby's brain (this works to best effect in cold climates). Strut the streets nonchalantly, and be sure to have a co-conspirator on hand to videotape the stunned reactions of innocent bystanders.

4.) FRUMUNDA CHEESE
A classic! Aggressively scrape the 'taint with your fingernail and squeeze the collected personal residue from under the nail onto your fingertip; spread about liberally, activating aromatic oils. Walk up behind an unsuspecting Republican and place "tainted" finger directly beneath their nose. When they turn around and scream "What the fuck?!?!" emit a triumphant yell of "Frumunda Cheese!" and launch into gales of satisfied guffaws as the prey launches their lunch into orbit.

5.) THE VIRTUAL VAGINA
Long a fave among amateur high school athletes and professional trannies the world over, this can also be learned by any patient male willing to endure hours of intensive practice and resultant regional tenderness. Get naked and tuck your entire package -- Mr. Johnson and all -- between the thighs; close the legs as tightly as possible; parade about while effecting exaggerated drag queen mannerisms. Richard Simmons taught me this one back in 1978, and my wife still hates his guts for it.

* DISCLAIMERS:
1.) Don't try any of these tricks in Red States or you may be subject by law to being dragged from the back of pick-up trucks.

2.) If you're a Negro, the title of stunts one, two and three must be changed to "Grape Gum On The Barbershop Floor," "Kiwi Harvest Time" and "Coconut Grove," respectively.

3.) When applied in the presence of homosexuals, reactions to stunts may vary from mere annoyance or boredom to actual pleasure; however, when practiced in the presence of lesbians, beware of incoming boots, fists and knives.

NEXT TIME:
"Eggs Over Easy," "Rutabaga-Flossing," "Peach Souffle," "Poodle In My Pants" and "Play-Doh Surprise."