on the topic of songs about food, that are or are not about food, i recently picked up She’s Your Cook, But She Burns My Bread Sometimes, volume 14 of the Saga Blues collection, which if you’re not familiar with, and you like rhythm and/the, blues, you should definitely check out. if you live in Montréal, i suggest your local national library. if you don’t, i suppose i suggest the internet.
anyway, it’s great, and i’m not that sharp, as evidenced by me being like “Hey [my roommate], i got this awesome compilation of food-themed blues songs, but you know, i’m listening to them and i’m pretty sure these songs are mostly just about sex,” and then actually reading the damn liner notes and noticing that the tracks are divided up into “PART ONE: LEMON SQUEEZERS” and “PART TWO: GRINDERS AND OTHER SEX METAPHORS.” right, check.
highlights include the title track, by Bo Carter, Lil Johnson’s “You’ll Never Miss Your Jelly Till Your Jelly Roller’s Gone,” and Maggie Jones’ “Anybody Here Want To Try My Cabbage?” which i’ve just discovered has a 23-year-old Satchmo blowing cornet on. how about that? one of these days i swear i’m going to sit down and write something concerted and interesting about the history and ambiguous oversignification of the “jelly roll,” but i know that when it happens, it inevitably will result in me being like “you know, this actually doesn’t have ANYTHING to do with food.”
there’s something very satisfying, though, about that sort of cryptic suggestiveness, the imprecision and esoteric quality of which calls to mind the of Monty Python’s “Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink,” and my favourite, from Wet Hot American Summer:
Gary: McKinley needs to experience “The Ultimate”!
JJ: You mean, penis-in-vagina?
Gary: No, dickhead. Sex.
seriously, happy Valentine’s Day.
i don’t know why i said that. i don’t mean it at all.