The Brass Menagerie.

A bit belatedly, I realized that in my post from Saturday, I may have suggested that I am the fairer partner in our marriage union. Not so. We each pulled the same-sized straw. While he does set our table with some mystifying preferences, so do I.

I may have forgotten to mention that I went through a period from about 1996-2001 during which the entire Ultra Lounge Series was the only item on the menu: Yma Sumac, Martin Denny, Les Baxter, Joao Gilberto, Stan Getz, Julie London, and Sergio Mendes…just to give you an idea. So Nice was our wedding song, and we even took dance lessons so we could properly swing it.

  
I do seem to have phases, and a few more oddities passed our ears before settling on the current, which is about 1:1 arabic belly dance grooves and high energy gypsy horns. In both cases, the better to shake it.

For me. For Ben, I suspect he wishes I would please shake the addiction.

The Arabian beats are so entwined with my dancing that there is little to explain. The Gypsy brass bands are just a progression of that sound that unexpectedly pitched a tent in my consciousness.

Once, during a road trip to our friends' wedding, this song was playing at the precise time that we were so lost that we actually missed the ceremony. Ben claimed it sounded like music in the waiting room of hell.

The good new is that, like Witchcraft and others for me, Ben has also found a sound from my collection that doesn't feel like aural water boarding. Meet LaBrassBanda:

Autobahn is actually their killer song, but this one has more visual energy. Enjoy!

(I hope.)