Like most people, I was initially confused by EMI’s decision to release remastered versions of all 13 albums by the Liverpool pop group Beatles, a 1960s band so obscure that their music is not even available on iTunes. The entire proposition seems like a boondoggle. I mean, who is interested in old music? And who would want to listen to anything so inconveniently delivered on massive four-inch metal discs with sharp, dangerous edges? The answer: no one. When the box arrived in the mail, I briefly considered smashing the entire unopened collection with a ball-peen hammer and throwing it into the mouth of a lion. But then, against my better judgment, I arbitrarily decided to give this hippie shit an informal listen. And I gotta admit—I’m impressed. This band was mad prolific.
Scorch Ironic is my name and my 2 son's names gone through an anagram maker. Super points if you can guess our names. I'll give you one hint: I have a son named Roc. San Francisco and Barcelona. I love random irony and sink my teeth into things too fast... I survived cancer and addiction. I am too sensitive for my own good, and too good for your own sensitivity. FOLLOW ME.