Audio Round: The Big Ending

Finally, as promised, the audio round from the last quiz, here, to play in the comfort of your home again and again. (Thanks to Lala, which is a fairly awesome service, I'm discovering.)

Name the artist and title behind each song clip—the big, exciting, climactic endings of celebrated pop songs from present and past. Need help? Hit the comments like a good Webgoer.

And hey, don't miss this Monday, back at Crash Mansion, where we celebrate the two Kings—Martin Luther (with the video round, "A Court of Kings"), and EP, honoring his would-be 75th birthday with "Maximum Elvis."

UPDATE: I've discovered that to listen to this, you must be logged in to Lala (of course). Don't panic: It's very easy, it's very free, and your computer can stay logged in forever. Hit up lala.com.

BQT 1-4-10 Audio Round

Jay Reatard, 1980–2010

As you fans are aware, I use the BQT as a forum to briefly (and trivially) remember departed celebrities, routinely throwing in a question or two about a recent deceased person's career. (Even if I'm not a particular fan, though I honored the great Rodney Dangerfield with a four-parter.) But sadly, Jay Reatard—who was found dead yesterday at the age of 29 (drugs, it seems)—is a little too obscure for our quiz purposes. So this is what he gets:

I came to NYC to be a music writer, having been a serious music geek in high school and college, but in recent years I've almost completely lost touch with new music. So it's very rare when a contemporary artist excites me beyond a buzzy single or two. Jay Reatard's 2006 release, Blood Visions—a loose concept album about a stalker—was an exception, and almost certainly my favorite release of the past decade. Reatard (Jimmy Lee Lindsey—it makes more sense when you know that he was once in a band called the Reatards) was a true garage rock dirtball, a high-school dropout loser from Memphis who began recording thousands of songs, and playing in dozens of sleazebag bands, at the age of 15, mainly because he was bored. But Reatard had a real gift, an incredible knack for writing bull's-eye melodies and framing them in potently cutting guitar-rock noise. I found this so rare in the '00s, as I found myself disappointed again and again by the noodly, self-involved obscurists who passed for innovative rock & roll through the decade (sorry, I can dig Animal Collective as artists, but whoever calls that "rock" needs to listen to another Chuck Berry record).

Reatard played live in NYC a lot—his shows were legendarily nuts—and I always put off seeing him, figuring there'd always be a next time; there's a lot on YouTube, but it's hardly the same.

Some music: The unrelentingly brilliant "My Shadow":



Here's a proper video he filmed last year, "It Ain't Gonna Save Me"—if you think the title is depressingly prophetic, just listen to the lyrics of the ending refrain:



You can hear more on his MySpace page; try "Oh, It's Such a Shame." It's also worth reading this article, to discover what a poetically fucked-up, yet totally unexceptional, life this man lived. Sorry, Mr. Reatard.

The best tool shed in Boston

In promoting the Big Quiz Thing's first Boston event (January 28!), I've run into a thorny predicament. The press seems receptive (we have a shot at some love from The Boston Phoenix), but as I try to use the newfangled Facespaces and Twittups to reach out to Beantown trivia hounds, I've been getting a particular brand of push-back, to the effect of, "Why would I pay to play trivia?"

Trivia is a somewhat bigger deal in Boston than here. Actually, scratch that—it's defiantly not a big deal there, it's just a more familiar presence in the hum of city life. There's a company called Stump Trivia that presents quiz events at many bars in the metropolitan Boston area, one of which I attended once, and it kind of sucked. Regardless, more than in NYC, everyone seems to know about "bar trivia," and everyone seems to assume Stump is the basic model: some guy on a microphone reading moderately interesting questions in a boilerplate Irish bar. No video, very little audio, no shiny jacket. And no cover charge.

All well and good. The city, I figured, is primed to experience something on a higher level. But habits are tough to break, especially when you're asking for a little money. Someone on Yelp, in referring to my show, said, "He's charging for trivia? What a tool shed." Which confuses me—is a "tool shed" the same as a "tool" (i.e., one who is used by others)? Aren't I the opposite of a tool if, according to this guy, I'm getting people to pay me for something that is usually given away for free? Or maybe being a tool shed means that my event is the ideal venue for tools, which I guess is more logically consistent with his apparent opinion. (Either way, I later discovered this guy is himself a Stump host. Ha ha.)

I've run into this quandary before. My usual reply is, you get what you pay for. You probably wouldn't hesitate to pay, say, $15 to see a great rock band at a good club, even though some guy is playing guitar at the bar down the street from you for nothing (and the rock band doesn't even give you a chance to win back your cover charge). Standard bar trivia nights can be great fun—one of the best nights of my life involved winning a quiz at an Irish pub, followed by making out with a teammate—but I think we provide a lot more. Besides, we've proved it for years in New York, where we consistently outdraw the various free quiz events.

So here's my task for you, BQT fans: Think of your pals/associates/Facebook friends in the Boston area. No doubt, some of them have the trivia bug, or at least an appreciation for quality live entertainment. Forward them this link, and let them know it's worth every penny. Once we've conquered the globe, you can have a warm feeling knowing it was partially—and vitally—thanks to you.

Kids, as a business entity

Remember this?



Wow, that is just unbelievably cheesy. Pretty much the most '80s thing you can imagine, apart from Tron or a pack of Pac-Man scratch-off cards. I was reminded of Kids Incorporated recently when I was searching Songza for Foreigner songs (seriously), and I was confronted by a Kids Inc. version rather than the magic of Lou Gramm. For the uninformed: Kids Incorporated was essentially a sitcom about a teenage band in Fort Greene, Brooklyn; intermittent musical numbers featured the colorfully wholesome, leg-warmered and MJ-jacketed band rocking out to mostly contemporary hit songs. K! I! D! S!

This show is perhaps best remembered today as the teenage proving ground for several current celebrities of various import. Fergie--Stacy Ferguson, at the time--was in fact the longest-serving cast member. Here, she does an extremely unconvincing impression of both Elvis Presley and a prison inmate:



(And no, this rendition will not be included in the next BQT audio round, "Maximum Elvis.")

Perhaps the second most celebrated KI alum is Jennifer Love Hewitt, who was merely "Love Hewitt" in those days (cool!). Here, she majorly fucks with my psyche by covering the theme song of my age-13 black-wearing depression phase, Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up":



There are a few other honored alumni, People magazine minor-leaguers, not worth discussing here (try Wikipedia if you're curious). These clips are kind of embarrassing, but I find it hard to hate on KI. Those kids are giving a couple thousand percent out there, and the performances have a kind of guileless charm that's easy to admire, if not to tolerate. True, it viciously sands down any and all edges of the source material, but Kids Incorporated was merely one of many, many culprits in that regard in the 1980s. Besides, you cannot tell me that the music is any less insipid than most of American Idol (and it doesn't have the overpowering, rancid stink of desperation).
Also, if I am to be honest, a few of my prepubescent fantasies were about actually being on the show myself. My mom and dad were a couple million miles away from showbiz parents, but as the dork who sang along to American Top 40, I dreamed about doing so on TV, for the supposed admiration of millions of fellow kids. In hindsight, I would've been a better fit for You Can't Do That on Television, since I was a smart-ass who couldn't dance and wasn't cute. But I can thank Kids Incorporated for my current love of karaoke. And yes, that is worth offering thanks for.

Rebus in Peace 2009

And here you go, last Monday's video round, "Rebus in Peace 2009." E-mail info@bigquizthing.com for answers.

And hey, I'm going to try to upload the audio round here soon; stay tuned.

Recap: Viva '10!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the ridiculously large turnout at last night's Big Quiz Thing: 33 teams. The newly redesigned answer pads save paper, so Al Gore owes me one. I credit some of the impressive crowd to the Gray Lady, who gave us a little cyberlove yesterday.

First, venue notes: We were back at (Le) Poisson Rouge last night, of course. Many of you might remember the big 200th Episode show last August, a roaring success; scheduling difficulties delayed our return, but after a second big show there, we're looking to come back more often
(Cash Cab for Cutie has given their blanket vote for returning, for one). News will be here ASAP.

Yes, the Fantastic Fournicators won, their premiere victory in the era of our big Three-Way Finale: FF up against the long-suffering Jefferson Davis Starship and the Fat Kids, and lordy, was it a nail-biter. The final question—"54th Street between Eighth Avenue and Broadway is honorarily named after what ventriloquist who frequently appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show?"—was won on a steal: Not Edgar Bergen, but this guy.

Otherwise, I was wildly impressed with how many teams aced "Rebus in Peace", and yes, "According to the old Chiquita Banana commercial jingle, where should you never put bananas?" prompts some extremely obvious Smart-Ass Point answers ("up the wazoo" was my favorite). Finally, why is "Sarah Jessica Parker" a funnier answer than "Alanis Morissette" when I ask you who won last year's Kentucky Derby? I will never understand you people.

Slightly personal note: I asked, "There’s a sign in the typical MTA subway car that says 'Please,' above three pictures, each in a circle with a line through it. What are the pictures of?" No one got all three correct: cigarette, person littering, boom box. But in the face of so many "wrong" answers (food and drink?), I began doubting that I had the correct answers on my magic clipboard. I questioned the clipboard, my rigorous fact-checking system, and my own memory. But a trip on the 2 train this morning brought me blessed confirmation.


Always trust yourself, friends.

The standings…

1. Fantastic Fourincators — well earned this time
2. Fat Kids Dream Big/Jefferson Davis Starship (tie)
4. Sugah Titz/Cash Cab for Cutie (tie)

NEXT SHOW: MLK Day back at Crash Mansion. We're sticking with the theme, featuring "A Court of Kings" and the audio round: "Maximum Elvis" (he would've been 75 next week, no lie).

PLUS: We head up to the Boston area, January 28. Tell all your friends who copped out and left NYC to go to grad school.

Tonight's NOT-SO-SECRET SECRET CLUE

All right, get excited. Tonight's Not-So-Secret Secret Clue is…

First half French, second half German

Got it? Good. Use it at tonight's quiz when I give the word (and we play the clever new video intro). And don't forget that we're at (Le) Poisson Rouge tonight, 7:30pm. May luck be yours.