The TV ads are horrific, promising contests, parties, and the opportunity to "fly your freak flag." Can you imagine the geriatric idiots who'll be dressing up in bell bottoms, or tie-dyed muu-muus?
The usual suspects are here, like whatever's left of Three Dog Night and the Lovin' Spoonful (to mention two of the most obnoxious group names this side of the Strawberry Alarm Clock). The idea is HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY.
It's a bit of a surprise that the cruise will include some variation of The Yardbirds. What's so joyful about THAT? Especially since it's not likely to include a familiar face or anyone who can sing?
Even worse, the cruise is promoting Mr. Downer himself, Barry Grooker's nasty and sour cousin, Wreck Burden. Gee, nothing says HAPPY FLOWER POWER like "We Gotta Get Out Of this Place." I'm sure when he sings it, a lot of seasick miserables will be agreeing.
Give Grooker credit: he has never stooped to the oldies circuit. Just why, I have no idea. It's probably that at this point, he can't handle being a drunk and falling on his face anymore, and since he's basically a prick, he wouldn't want to mingle with absolute assholes. And cruises are big on absolute assholes. The plumbers, accountants, teachers and other nitwits who would think a CRUISE is fun, and affordable, ARE assholes. What's the price, PER PERSON, and not including a whole lot of extras?
An article in one of the business mags mentioned that CRUISES are, like memorabilia conventions, growing bigger. Why go to a concert and see one or two idiot groups, when you can make a weekend of it (or a whole week), indulge in COSPLAY, and actually pester the people you grew up with?
60's hippies and 70's ookies certainly didn't think CRUISES were hip. They were for ridiculous old people. But now that THEY are ridiculous old people, it's ok: "Say, this isn't bad. We sit in the sun. We drink and eat. We get to Hoobastank neat guys like Icky Doleful for a meet-and-greet photo opportunity."
Yes, the cool generation has morphed into their grandparents. The laugh of Carnival Cruises and the Queen Mary is now a loud "Flower Power" and "End of the Earth" fart. Overweight morons waddle around the deck unashamedly breaking wind, which sounds louder than a foghorn, and arrogantly have pride in their excess, and in the money they can waste in order to put an arm around Spencer Davis.
Jesus, I know idiots who keep coming BACK again. They're happy that Icky Doleful or some other clown recognizes them. They pay for yet another photo op. They're proud of being "old-timers" who know their way around, and have remembered to bring the suntan lotion.
According to trade journals, Norwegian Cruise and others are competing to build the biggest, most garish boats possible...Titanics just waiting for an Isis bomb or an Iranian or Somalian takeover.
These soggy, humid, bakingly hot examples of escapist nostalgia, are going to get worse and worse, as they become more and more tailored to certain types of idiots. "Flower Power" obviously is aimed at happy saps. But the YES cruise seems to dangerously want to encourage skeevy con artists, hardcore drug users, and guys with dyed hair looking for risky business. It's scraping the barnacles at the bottom of the barrel. There are way too many nasty rock bands aboard.
There was vague nostalgia for me on a few of the milder names. I covered the Kansas guys as a photographer (oh, the immortal, heavy "Dust in the Wind"), interviewed Renaissance (but not Annie...after all, I wasn't with Rolling Stone and she was SO hot at the time) and also spent an hour chatting and photographing Hackett. The guy was not all that nostalgic about Genesis at the time, but at this point, he'll do what it takes. Just how the fuck he performs any Genesis material I can't imagine. He gargles with cat piss so he can croak like Pete the Jew-Hater?
So many other names are, indeed, unknown to anyone but a retard like Christer the Blister.
Except...yeah, if you CLOSE YOUR EYES, you won't see how a certain obese woman is curving the air with a distorted un-funhouse mirror version of herself. She's a lovely soul, but yes, what IS the point? Her voice is all right but it's coming out of an ice cream truck with garish drapery all over it. Once in a while I listen to a few old tracks of hers, but that brand of mostly pretentious progrock has little to say to me except nostalgia: "remember when you smoked dope?"
When she, or Tull or Boko Haram put out a new album (thankfully rare) you just think, "Well, isn't it nice you've stayed the same after 30 or 40 years. It's not a sign of artistic growth, but some retards are impressed. Some are so addled they'll even say, "You're better than ever!"
The funny thing about Obese Woman is that on Farcebook she rarely writes anything original or offers a personal photo; she likes to re-post memes from Julian Lennon! Christ, if she played some small club where Wendy James had failed to sell out, fine. Get in cheap, buy a CD off her and have her sign it, and maybe even take a selfie with her (if you've got a wide angle lens). But to suffer a fucking cruise that is really like being aboard a floating prison?
No, don't wanna see Chad & Jeremy looking like fodder for Burke & Hare. Don't want to see Burden looking like the angry grandpa yelling "You kids, get off my lawn." Don't want to squint and try and figure out if there are ANY original members in the group that no longer sounds like it once did.
This kind of cruise would give any normal rock fan a sinking feeling.
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