T&A; or, What Were They Thinking?

Like Santa at Christmastime, Thee Tourettes have once again amassed an overflowing bag of lively correspondence, with the contents proving conclusively that their fans are an insatiably curious lot. Given the bandmember’s hectic schedules, they have tasked me, Pinky Tourette, with responding to the tidal wave of questions that pour over the transom on a daily basis. They have also asked me to call the plumber and have the transom fixed.

For the benefit of Thee Tourettes’ global army of loyal acolytes, and to save me the trouble of answering each missive in longhand on parchment with a feather quill and inkpad, I’m hereby inaugurating a new, semi-regular feature of this blog: The T&A. Send in your questions and I will endeavor to answer each and every one to the least of my ability.

Don D. of Madison Ave., NYC asks: Considering their vast back catalog of smash hits, why is it that Thee Tourettes have never featured in a movie soundtrack or a commercial?

An excellent and most astute question, Don. Thee Tourettes resolutely believe that songs are timeless works of art, and that as such they have an innate meaning and integrity unto themselves. Just recently, I personally saw Sneezy Tourette burst into tears upon hearing Nazareth’s version of “Love Hurts” playing during a commercial for Preparation H. To Thee Tourettes, selling one of the songs that they have meticulously crafted and constructed note by note, word by word, filling it with their collective heart and soul and instilling it almost mystically with their own essence and values and visions and deep-seated morality would only buy into the crass commercialism that underpins the worst aspects of dog-eat-dog capitalism. In other words, nobody has asked.

Axl R. from Malibu, CA asks: What singers most influenced you?

The list is endless and limitless, Axl. The best singers are well-nigh otherworldly in their ability to create a universe unto themselves, rendering them more inspirational than influential, if you grok my meta. Think of the human theremin, Yma Sumac. Or David Surkamp of Pavlov’s Dog, the Alvin and the Chipmunks of the hard rock world. Think of the human hangover, Tom Waits, with his staggering (in all senses) ability to merge singing, indulgence, and desperation into one woozily dissipated enterprise. But personally, Dopey hereby reveals, for the first time ever, that her primary influence is none other than… Colin Crest. Who? you ask. Colin’s matchless infusion of melodrama, pathos, mawkishness, hyperbole, schmaltz, banality, and insidious earworminess into every whisper and syllable of his breakout hit has implanted him in your cranium whether you know his name or not. In fact, I’ll bet you’re humming it now, and if not you soon will be: “1-877 Kars 4 Kidz…” Yes indeed, that’s the kind of savage infectiousness Dopey strives for. Going forward, please imagine Colin Crest singing whenever you hear a song by Thee Tourettes. Backing vocals by the Kars 4 Kids Khorus.

Benjamin F. of Philadelphia asks: Why haven’t you ever written a song about reincarnation?

Doc responds that it would be redundant after writing about the subject so extensively in their prior lives.

Bill C. of Washington, DC writes: Please settle a bet between me and George W. I’ve got a case of Rheingold Extra Dry and a carton of Lucky Strikes riding on this. Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin?

Is this a trick question? Sabbath, obviously. Next question.

Fyodor D. of St. Petersburg asks: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Your query, dear Fyodor, hearkens back to the age-old philosophical question, raised at many a bar mitzvah: Which comes first, the chicken salad or the egg salad? The answer, and I hope you’re sitting down, is that they should come simultaneously. Which is the same answer to the question from William M. & Virginia J. about sex.

And I’m afraid that’s all we have space for right now. Tune in next time for additional T&A with the best band ever to have their genetic material flash-frozen and entombed next to Walt Disney’s head deep below Area 51 for eventual revivification into a world devoid of war, crime, poverty, racism, and Kardashians.