π‘ƒπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘ƒπ‘œπ‘ π‘Šπ‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘šπ‘’π‘›π‘‘, π‘£π‘œπ‘™ 1.

An ever-so-haphazard collection of songs/performances which bring one to the trancelike state of what is called Pure Pop Wonderment. These things avoid syzygy. It’s not an excuse; it’s a vigorously researched excuse. Linear-ness is overrated. Most of these you’ll know, but perhaps not these versions. Maybe 1 or 2 that are new, to, say, the likes of you. Enjoy.

π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘ƒπ‘’π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘β„Žπ‘¦: π‘‰π‘Žπ‘šπ‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘¦-π‘ƒπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘–π‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘‘ 𝐷𝑒𝑖𝑑𝑦.

In re: the above, and the below: One of those riveting performances Peter Murphy has been known to deliver, the kind that provokes ponderings such as “Hmm. Is P.M. the greatest person to ever draw breath? Oh, right. He’s probably *not* a person, as such…”. I’m sure you have entertained such mysteries. Still emphatically vampiric, all the more impressive given the attire; Bela, say, would not be caught dead, undead, or in some interstitial state about which we know little {OK; nothing}, in such garb. But, yep; vampiric as they come. He is in full command of his towering vocal abilities, as per. A mesmerist is in the house. And, *you* let him in!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Cuts You Up {1992, on D. Miller} vid has become somewhat, oh, infamous, due to Murphy’s {elegant} gesture (which was *not* “giving {Miller} the finger”, as the rattled, indignant, incorrect host proclaimed…’twas a nose-thumbing, a snook-cocking); it was a perfect moment in time, making crystal clear that some people are human {Miller, for example: and a jackass to boot. He had just finished offering forth banal, insulting words about his Guest, then plays the Innocent…}, and some are more of the god-like/vampiric/undefinable/ambiguously-formatted persuasion.

{above prose appended 8/8/2019; I’d already referenced this topic in post originale, below, but I feel a need to avoid revising/excising. And, you cannot make me.}

The ever enigmatic and other-worldly Peter Murphy still presents an imposing, daunting figure, one who seems unlacking in self-assurance. And, if anything, his *astonishing* vocal talents are fully—possibly more than fully—intact. Like unto a god. Or whatever he is.

His immense powers, presence, and unearthly priest-like {Ambiguously Benevolence’d Category} attributes are all on display in these videos; and, for the connoisseurs, the Great Man delivers (whilst exiting the stage, post “Cuts You Up”) unto host and mere mortal Dennis Miller a profound gesture, one flawless, snook-cocking nose thumb, with all the impeccable style and ease that would be expected.

To reiterate: I am *not* removing, now, or ever, the Miller quasi-debacle bit here, addenda or no addenda.

π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘…π‘œπ‘”π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Šβ„Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ πΈπ‘₯π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘π‘’.

whittaker on ice I

{Festival.}

Begins with “Mexican Whistler”….
Great version.
Claude FranΓ§ois with a brief showing…
He Starts Below.
Good Morning, Starshine.
Those Were The Days.
Don’t Let ‘Em Change.
Candy Cloud.
Pretty Bird.
Mistral. Bilingual.
Mistral. More Whistling.
Flap Flap.
Emily. {English}
Mexican Whistler.
Calypso!
Festival. {!!}
Swaggy. Australian Whistler. {alt version}
Swaggy. True Version.

The supremely talented, somewhat offbeat {esp. back in the day…} whistling mΓ¦stro , composer, and smooth, rich baritone vocalist Roger Whittaker. The man can just plain deliver a song; very gifted with phrasing, etc.