We Sat Down With the One Old Guy Who Sings “My Way” at Every Karaoke Night

Posted on by John Danek

If Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” were never played on the radio or in movies again, it would still live on eternally in the collective human consciousness. Why? Because you can guarantee its inclusion at every single karaoke night on the planet. And while I prefer Limp Bizkit’s “My Way”, Ol’ Blue Eyes’ version has its place I suppose.

There’s no one more insistent on performing the crooner classic than Morty Ivich, a regular at my neighborhood karaoke bar The Gadfly. We sat down with him to hear how he did it “his way.”

THE HARD TIMES: Morty, what is it about “My Way” that inspires you to sing it so frequently? To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing another song.

MORTY: Oh, it’s my absolute favorite. Just a classic. They don’t write songs like that anymore. I love singing it at The Gadfly and Tom’s Tavern.

Wait, don’t those two bars have karaoke on the same night? Do you go back and forth?

Heh, no, not exactly. I have a way of… bending… time and place around me.

Uhhhh… come again?

You see, I can exist in multiple places at once, as multiple different beings. You know me as Morty Ivich, an old Russian retiree. Tom’s Tavern knows me as Nikos Papadopoulous, owner of Nikos’ Gyros in Hampstead. The Singing Palace in Kyoto knows me as Kenichi Yamashita.

Ok, I really don’t follow. Are you fucking with me?

I am not fucking with you. My birth name was Jebediah Plimp and I died in 1969 in West Virginia. An old mountain crone placed a curse on me, damning my soul to an eternity of wandering the earth singing “My Way” slightly off-key at every single karaoke night worldwide.

That’s mind-blowing!

Oh, it gets crazier. You see I have become unstuck in time. I am currently singing “My Way” at every point in history simultaneously. I am singing it at the dawn of time. I am singing it at the Kennedy assassination. I am singing it at the heat-death of the universe.

That’s… horrifying.

And while crowds love it, it’s time for this curse to find a new host. Get over here, give me your wrist!

Woah Morty, get away from me. Ahh, what the hell? Ow!

AH HA HA! YES! AFTER YEARS OF RECREATING FRANK SINATRA’S MONOTONE TALK-SINGING, I AM FINALLY FREE TO ASCEND TO THE NEXT PLANE OF EXISTENCE. I AM FREE!

…

…

…

And now, the end is near…

Real Life Willy Wonka? This Man Gives Kids Chocolate Before Murdering Them

Posted on by Patrick Crooks

Well folks, there’s not been much good news going on in this once proud town of ours. Heck, last week when your trusty man about-town columnist was doing his rounds, I was violently assaulted by someone who just shot up meth laced with fentanyl. Also, did you know now they’re lacing the fentanyl with stuff that makes your arms fall off?

It almost made me want to tell my editor to stick his deadlines in a sack! There was just no good news in the community!

But wouldn’t you know it, I found the inspiration to tell my story – A real-life Willy Wonka!

I was at the laundromat and couldn’t help but notice a gentleman whose garments were coated with chocolate stains. He told me he made his own confectionaries at home. I said you better not tell my wife you can make your own chocolate at home. Well, we shared a laugh over that and I said “Nice meeting you Willy Wonka.”

And he looked at me and said “Buddy, you don’t know the half of it.”

The eccentric chocolatier went on to explain that he had an uncontrollable and insatiable urge to murder small children. He doesn’t want to, but he needs the blood of innocents to appease Ba’al. So he decided that if he was going to kill these kids, he’d at least make sure they’d enjoy a sweet treat first. Remind you of someone? Perhaps a certain character classically portrayed by Gene Wilder?

Apparently this man brings them over and shows them how to make their own candy and gives them as much chocolate as they want. Just like Willy Wonka! And just like Willy Wonka, at a certain point in the process, he kills them out of nowhere! Isn’t that something?

It seems like most of the time when you hear about serial killers, they make their victims suffer. I know I would! But this guy goes out of his way to ensure that his innocent victims have the time of their lives that are soon to be cut tragically short.

“I feel better smothering them knowing they’re happy,” he explained.

Isn’t that what binds us together as a community? Doing things for our neighbor to lift them up. I can sleep better knowing there are still people like that out there.

Ghost Intern Has Trouble Identifying Nameless Ghouls Lunch Orders

Posted on by Jose Balderas

LINKÖPING, SWEDEN — Local college student Lufsig Nilsson once again screwed up the lunch orders for the Group of Nameless Ghouls who play in Ghost and abruptly quit his internship out of frustration, sources who didn’t even notice his absence confirm.

“I knew I would have to do a lot of grunt work like dry cleaning robes, and refilling their personal buckers of white face paint, but lunch is just chaos. Even with a detailed list it’s impossible to figure out who’s sandwich belonged to who because they are all just silent weirdos,” explained the exasperated Nilsson. “I’d call out an order and they would stare at me and just point to their patches. As much as I love Ghost lore, I don’t have time to figure out if that’s Water or Air or Aether or whatever. Imagine spending an hour and a half at Subway trying to make sure every Ghoul has the correct toppings on their sandwich and then being met with blank stares.”

Band member Multi-Ghoul offered to clarify the situation from a different perspective.

“This isn’t a job for the weak. It’s a demanding role in our un-holy mission. This was the third intern we’ve lost in the last two months. And yeah, our orders are complicated, because we all have different tastes and some Ghouls also have allergies,” said the theatrical musician. “Fire Ghoul can’t have pepperoncinis, ironically, and Water Ghoul really hates onions. If either of those orders are not right, our rehearsals are ruined. That intern got the job because they were dedicated to our cause, but if they can’t tell us apart, it’s just offensive and dangerous, really.”

Frontman Cardinal Copia, who hired the intern initially, gave his experienced opinion on the matter.

“It’s not an easy process whittling down hundreds of applications and finding the right candidates, but we also have to find the best of the best, and I believe we will get there. Though I must say, our previous gopher was amazing at cleaning the glass stained studio windows,, desecrating the eucharists, and making sure none of our hotel rooms had a Bible, but lunch orders are just as important. And if we can’t have well-fed Ghouls, we won’t have a good performance,” explained Copia. “It’s a long road to paying your Satanic dues, but once you do, the gates of Hell welcome you with the most rewarding prize– free entry to our shows and first dibs on shirts.”

As of press time, Ghost is operating with borrowed interns from GWAR.

5 Hyperpop Artists To Play if You’re Trying To Kill MeeMaw

Posted on by Jus Kaplan

So you think it might be time for dear old MeeMaw to head to the pearly gates. She’s like 103, after all! Not to mention she’s been begging for the sweet embrace of death for over a decade. It’s clear she’s ready to move on but just needs that extra push. Our simple solution: Hyperpop!

With its super-processed vocals, pitchy synths, and distorted, glitchy vibes, hyperpop has all the tools required to make an elderly brain explode. It’s a painless death too, given how overwhelmed their neurons will be trying to figure out what the hell is going on. I’m no doctor, but I’d bet my forged medical degree that a typical centenarian will be gone before they can even say, “who uses this much flanger?”

Here are 5 hyperpop artists that will help your MeeMaw meet PeePaw again in heaven.

100 Gecs
This iconic hyperpop duo makes music that is so chaotic, they have been banned from performing within a 100 mile radius of all nursing homes. Hell, even having MeeMaw read song names like “xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx” could be enough.

Kim Petras
MeeMaw grew up in a different time. When she was coming of age, nobody had ever released a song called “Treat Me Like A Slut.” The idea of someone taking pride in being a “Throat Goat” was unheard of! The sheer shock of hearing Kim’s lyrics will likely cause MeeMaw to enter a fugue-like state from which she will never return.

Lil Mariko
MeeMaw doesn’t know where your JUUL is or even what a JUUL is. But that doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate Lil Mariko and Full Tac’s viral hyperpop classic, “Where’s my JUUL??” In fact, she might just love it to death.

Charlie XCX
Vroom, vroom! Did someone order MeeMaw a ride to Xanadu? Well, her driver Charlie XCX is out front, blasting “Unlock It.”

SOPHIE
SOPHIE was a true pioneer of hyperpop. A legend whose experimental sound helped shape the entire genre. It would be an honor for MeeMaw to pass listening to “Faceshopping” or “Ponyboy.” And if it turns out the Garden of Eden is real, SOPHIE will be there DJing. MeeMaw and PeePaw can roll together clad in nothing but fig leaves.

Depressed Black Metal Musician at Rock Bottom Has “Come to Satan” Moment

Posted on by John Danek

DALLAS — Despondent black metal bedroom musician Dale “Vaxxix” Houlihan recently came to the sudden realization that the spiritual void in his life is best filled by Satan, adversary of God, much to the chagrin of family and friends.

“Before I heard the call of Satan, I was a sad, lonely alcoholic. Nowadays, I still am but I do it for Lucifer, provider of all sin,” explained Houlihan, who had the 332nd most popular black metal EP on Bandcamp last week. “My lyrics are now focused on praise & worship of the dark lord. Ever since I began sharing the bad news of Satan in my music, my life has become much more meaningful. My cat died. I got diagnosed with gout. I’ve been banned from the nearest Guitar Center. None of this would be possible without Satan.”

Houlihan’s family members were initially optimistic about his new life path, but the reality is far less positive than expected.

“Dale is so goddamned preachy now, I can’t take it. He tried to make everyone pray to Satan before Thanksgiving dinner,” said cousin Lawrence Houlihan, who plays Jars of Clay and Switchfoot around Dale every chance he gets. “I’m not religious but normally I don’t mind when others are unless it’s getting shoved in my face. Dale has taken to standing on busy Dallas intersections and preaching the words of Satan. It’s pretty embarrassing for our whole family. You don’t wanna be related to the Satan Freak guy.”

Satan, enemy of all righteousness and purveyor of evil and pain, expressed ambivalence over his new diehard fan.

“It’s apparently impossible for me to find one cool, chill follower. They all go way overboard and start infringing on other peoples’ peace and happiness like some dang Christian,” lamented the devil between shifts of advising Jeff Bezos. “You’d think my acolytes were allergic to showers. And don’t get me started on the music. Satanists always make the worst songs imaginable. Black metal? I don’t see why we can’t get some dancey music sometimes. I’m more of a reggaeton fan myself.”

Sources confirm that Houlihan is no longer speaking to any members of his family, after they refused to attend Black Mass with him on Friday night.

How To Intervene When Your Bassist Thinks They Might Need More Than Four Strings

Posted on by Dustin Newman

You may think it won’t happen to you, but no band is safe. At any moment your bassist could receive a Musician’s Friend catalog in the mail or a promotional email from Sweetwater and the next thing you know they get a dangerous idea in their head. That idea being that they could, and possibly even should try playing the bass guitar with more than four strings.

So let’s say this happens to you and your band, here are some ways you can do everyone a favor and stop these unhealthy inclinations before things get out of hand:

Remind them what happened when they tried slap bass
Every bassist has had the idea that maybe they’re the one other bassist besides Flea that can make this work. We have to remind them of these past mistakes to ensure they don’t get their hopes up about going outside their lane in the future.

Tell them statistics show experimenting with five-string basses can lead to wanting a six-string bass or worse
A five-string bass is a gateway drug. Once the high of a five-string bass wears off, they’ll look for an even bigger score. This effect isn’t limited to adding strings, soon an oversized fretless upright bass will become irresistible. It’ll look even more ridiculous and you do not want to be stuck helping carry that thing to the gig.

Appeal to aesthetics
Is there some rule that says these things have to be this ugly? Why does every five-string bass guitar look like it was ergonomically designed for an alien species? Not only that, the color schemes look like they were inspired by a gas station beverage section.

Fall back on genre norms
Now this will depend on what genre of music your band plays. If you play punk or shoegaze or something along those lines, you obviously can’t roll up on stage and have a guy with a five-string bass. Hell having less than four strings would be ideal. If you play nu-metal or prog then you’re likely beyond saving and probably didn’t see what the problem was, to begin with.

Man Sneaks Thermos of Sleepytime Tea Into Grouper Show

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

RICHMOND, Va. — Local indie pop fan Damon Thomson successfully snuck a contraband thermos of Celestial Seasonings’ Sleepytime Tea past venue security to enjoy during a Grouper show, increasingly drowsy sources confirmed.

“Check this shit out. 32 ounces of chamomile, tilia flowers, lemongrass. Pure, uncut. Everything you need to take you sky high to dream land,” said Thomson while unfurling his nightgown and putting on his nightcap. “I thought I was made when the door guy spotted the goose down pillow stuffed in my pants, but I convinced him I had elephantiasis and he let it slide. See, the droning ambient pop of Grouper is the only cure for my insomnia, so I’ve been following her on tour for years. And apparently I’m not the only one, because I’ve been supporting myself by selling fellow concertgoers shots of the ‘cozy teddy bear juice.’”

Venue owner Ava Martinez was shocked upon seeing the majority of patrons at the show had been lulled into a gentle slumber.

“Everyone in the club was passed out on the floor, and I panicked thinking I waited too long to take care of that gas leak. Luckily someone started stirring before pulling out a sleep mask,” said Martinez. “I wasn’t sure how the band would react to dozens of tattooed and beanie-adorned young adults taking a group nap on a beer-soaked venue floor in the middle of their show. But then for the encore Liz Harris just went around and gave all her fans gentle little forehead kisses before tiptoeing out of the place.”

Citing a financial opportunity, Grouper’s manager Ewan Harrison chose to capitalize on the group’s lethargic sound.

“Guns N’ Roses, Morrissey, Weezer. There’s no shortage of bands with live shows that will put you to sleep. But Grouper is the only one intentionally helping their fans catch some zzzs,” said Harrison. “This is why we are proud to announce the band’s upcoming tour, exclusively at Mattress Firm locations throughout the Northeast corridor. Our VIP package will include your very own Sealy Posturepedic mattress and two green tea drink tickets to enjoy during the show.”

More recently, a double bill of Grouper and Cat Power caused a medical emergency after dozens of concert attendees were lulled into weeks-long comas.

Total Showoff Doing Dry January Without Court Ordered Supervision

Posted on by Tim Sheard

SEATTLE — Ostentatious little showboat David Farrow is spending all of January completely abstinent from alcohol without the looming threat of incarceration, vexed sources confirmed.

“I’m doing a cleanse, so no booze this month,” said software engineer Farrow. “We were overdoing it during Christmas break. I know going through a fifth of Johnnie Walker before lunch is a really unhealthy way to cope, but you try spending a week with my brother-in-law. He’s into wine and is a Tool fan, so he never shuts the fuck up about how geometric abstraction influenced Maynard’s approach to winemaking. Listening to that bullshit for hours has made me never want to drink again, so I guess that’s made Dry January easier. I actually like how sobriety feels, so I might stick with it. If I can go all year, I might barely be able to afford Blink-182 tickets.”

Other Dry January participants were less enthusiastic about Farrow’s approach.

“I’m not drinking this month, but only because I got put on Antabuse after my latest DUI,” reported machinist Rob Hendricks. “There’s a trick to drinking over that stuff, but I still haven’t figured out how to hack this dumb alcohol monitoring bracelet. Besides, the high-handed authoritarian judge in charge of my case said he’ll revoke my bail if I get caught in a bar again. And he had the audacity to lecture me about going to treatment, but he wouldn’t even listen when I tried explaining that a case of beer is like a hundred times cheaper than my insurance deductible for shit like that.”

Anheuser-Busch consultant Beth Wainwright shared her views as an alcohol industry insider.

“This month is so long,” complained a buzzed Wainwright. “We’d prefer Dry February, or better yet, just Dry February first. We typically roll out aggressive marketing in January to remind everyone partaking in this silly fad what they get to drink next month, or even next week if the ads work as intended. The growth of Dry January proves that anyone can stop drinking on their own whenever they want, and that is one thing we cannot tolerate. If gun manufacturers aren’t being held responsible for kids getting shot in classrooms, legally speaking, we have nothing to do with people drinking themselves to death and running over pedestrians.”

At press time, Farrow was considering working mindfulness and meditation into his increasingly insufferable and probably healthier lifestyle.

How I Got To Open for a Wildly Successful Band by Producing the Show and Paying Them To Play

Posted on by Jay Wells L'Ecuyer

Well, my dream came true last night! After over a decade of shitty shows in shitty clubs, my band finally opened for our idols, “Ms. Chanandler Bong.” They’re the band that inspired us to play music in the first place. Plus, they draw a ton of people and will give our band some serious credibility. We’re so proud of earning this opportunity. Sure, I produced the show myself and paid them five grand to play. But it still counts!

My dad didn’t get how big of an opportunity for us when I was asking him to borrow the money, but five grand is nothing to my family so one mowed lawn and a couple loads of laundry later, my band had finally booked the show of our lives.

Sometimes you just gotta take the world by the balls and make your dreams a reality. Your band can’t get booked? Make your own show! Your band can’t draw? Pay a bigger band to do that for you! It’s incredible what you can accomplish with just a little bit of gumption and an unlimited bank account.

Last night I soaked up the fact that the whole scene saw my band sharing a stage with an actual successful band. Plus, none of them know the behind-the-scenes details. For all they know, Ms. Chanandler Bong dipped off their tour to play with us because we’re old pals or they’re fans of ours or some shit.

I was a little disappointed they left the second their set was over. I thought stocking the shit out of their green room would convince them to stay, but they just took it all to their tour bus and drove off. Maybe they’ll want us on their next tour. I’ll follow up next week.

Either way, If I can somehow make these local shows profitable, I’ll come up with a business proposal to show father. Then I can pay to open for all kinds of bands!

Review: Melvins “Gluey Porch Treatments”

Posted on by James Knapp

Each week The Hard Times looks back on a classic album from punk history. This week we listened to “Gluey Porch Treatments,” the only Melvins album ever.

Yeah we know it’s crazy, but we looked into it, and apparently, this is the only album the band ever released. It seems really strange that such a talented band with a career spanning thirty long years would choose to only put out one record but, well, there it is: “Gluey Porch Treatments.”

In a way we kind of understand it, as we are aware that the band almost never gets together to write new material or even practice their old stuff – their only old stuff. And additionally, they have a firm stance never to collaborate or record outside the band, so that really limits their ability as far as having split records or even being featured artists on a song or two.

And jeesh, they almost never go on tour. Really what’s the point with only one album’s worth of material and absolutely no plan or inclination to write or record more music for decades? It just makes sense for that the Melvins have garnered a reputation as one of the slowest and least consistent touring acts in the history of live music.

But still, in interview after interview that we poured over doing research for this review we cannot find a single reference to any other album they ever even thought about making. Like, not once. Which in a way makes “Gluey Porch Treatments” a one-of-a-kind piece of punk history.

The fact that there will never be a second Melvins record is a sad one, but at least we can all take solace in the notion that the band put out one great record and then ended things on a high note. It’s a nice thought, isn’t it.

SCORE: 1 out of 1 album – because that’s all ya need sometimes.

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