
It's Episode 93. Hey, just like 1993 — the last year Chris Crofton was truly engaged with the world. It's The Chris Crofton Show, and you can click through after the jump.
Oh behold!
The most bizarre
Is not the freakiest haircut
But no haircut at all
Knowing
In form and function
That no thought's at all
Gone into its construction
So what then
Is on his mind?
For a perfectly good reason, we're bringing this one to you via Dropbox. So click through, don't right-click. You've been warned. It's a Civil War widow, creepin' up your backstairs. It's 92. Episode 92 of The Chris Crofton Show, to be precise. Get it after the jump.
He had a haircut that was an idea,
And parked in front of a fire hydrant.
I didn’t use gloves when I made his sandwich,
And I didn’t try to not stare at his processed bosom.
His manicured and feminine body language
Ghoulishly masked an unaware, negligent, and complex cruelty.
Impermeably more self-conscious than self-aware,
I was a minor character in a story more complicated than interesting.

Regardless, folks like Frank Zappa, Sun Ra, Lou Reed, Prince, John Cale and the like were all examined, listened to and found to be more than qualified. There's a lot of music out there, and I'm not so sure I want to spend my life preparing to discuss the complete works of Rod Stewart on my deathbed. So here they are: five more of the most intimidating discographies in music.
Guess who's back! It's the long-awaited 91st episode of The Chris Crofton Show. Welcome back, Croftonians. Your dreams were your ticket out. Now shut those kids up, or I'll make them mow the lawn with their teeth. Hear No. 91 after the jump. It's via Dropbox this time. Deal with it.
Some kind of
Wild
Swirling
Frustration
Woolied beneath a Mercy Blanket
Of implied consent to nothing
Being
Remotely
Accountable
To the legend of its Christian Name:
Even though we're still right in the middle of our Jack White ticket giveaway, Lucero's people offered us a pair of guest-list spots to their May 11 show at Cannery Ballroom, and that certainly isn't the sort of offer we're about to turn down. As contributor Lee Stabert put it last time the 'Cero breezed through Nashville, "This Memphis quartet might not be the most virtuosic band or the most inventive, but they write tremendously moving songs. In fact, that band-next-door quality is part of the appeal." And you're not calling Lee a liar, are you?
So, once again, you oughtta know the rules by now. Come up with the most side-splitting, awe-inspiring or otherwise interesting caption for the image you see above, and leave it in the comments section. Remember to include your email address in the appropriate field. We won't publish it, but we'll need it in order to contact our winner. We'll call this one on Friday morning — that's the day of the show — so be sure to keep a close eye on your email around then. All right, everybody ready? Go!
Update: We have our winner. Thanks for playing!
Hey, have you guys ever heard of this hot, young, under-the-radar local artist by the name of Jack White? Apparently he has an innovative record label/shop here in town, and his debut solo album recently hit No. 1 on Billboard. Weird!
But seriously, by now, you're likely aware that Nashville's most internationally lauded rock 'n' roll superstar will play The Ryman on May 15 and 16 with Alabama Shakes. You're probably also aware that tickets sold out about as quickly as you can say "Blunderbuss" — that is, if you have a speech impediment that forces you to take, like, 10 minutes to say words like "Blunderbuss." So if you didn't get tickets, what then? You're shit out of luck? You'll just have to sit at home alone on May 15 and 16, darning your socks and reading our coverage of JW's performance at his own Third Man Records anniversary show back in March?
Come on, guys. By now, you should know two things about the Cream: 1) We're not going to let a show like this pass without giving you a shot at winning some tickets, and 2) we don't know what "darning socks" means. Same rules as usual apply: Come up with the most gut-busting, inspiring or somehow otherwise entertaining caption for the image you see above (courtesy of fellow Scenester Steve Haruch; thanks, Steve), and leave it in the comments section. Remember to include your email address in the appropriate field. We won't publish it, but we'll need it in order to contact our winner. I think we'll pick our favorite caption at some point on Friday, so keep an eye on your email. Any questions? All right ... go!
Update: We have our winner. Thanks for playing!

But there are also some great (and not as great) bands that not only come with plenty of a records to keep you busy indefinitely, but their discographies are also so massive that they inspire fear in the hearts of even the most hardcore of audiophiles. These are bands who’ve spent decades amassing a body of work so large, I can only pray there’s a box set or double-disc greatest hits to help me get started. If I’m lucky, I’ve got a friend who’s a a big enough fan to make me a 100-track data disc mix of his or her personal faves. Because, let’s face it, the thought of actually listening to ALL this shit (as much as I can actually find) — in a series of sequential sittings, no less — seems downright preposterous. Or is it? Here are 10 of the most intimidating, exhausting discographies I’m daring you to truthfully tell the world you’ve experienced.