“If you grow up with nothing but a steady diet of polka, guess what? Problems with the performance of musical rhythm.”
oh... my first band died a horrible death due to that. We were terrible to start with and one of the mom’s at a party suggested that she send over her son who was a phenomenal musician. We were excited when we heard the news.
Cut to the next rehearsal. A guy walks in with an accordion and begins to play polka. That is all he could play. Polka music.
You haven’t lived until you have heard the “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction Polka”. Reports of our rehearsal reached the parents ears and we suddenly found ourselves scheduled for every sport known to man. A game every night.
My dad told me later that the parents had agreed that if we ever did get a gig they would immediately move out of state in the dead of night.
My later bands were much more successful but the one cardinal rule was “No accordion players”.
Robin Williams doing Lawrence Welk years ago. Imagine the North Dakota German accent, now:
Tankyou, tankyou, tankyou.
Daht wass a bitchin' boss song...let's hear it for de boyss in de bandt...effry vun uff dem is a bad mothher in hiss own riight.
Now let's hear it for de luffly Lennon Sisterss, as dey sing for you "I Cand Ged No Sadisfacshunn."