Like any freak show with rhythm, BMG has gone Vegas, not to mention spawning regular gigs at Universal Orlando and Norwegian Cruise Lines. They also have a show in Berlin. No surprise there; turtleneck-loving Germans have been in desperate need of alternative programming to vaterland darling David Hasselhoff since the Wall came down in 1989.
And BMG fits the cheeseball bill. Bald blue men in turtlenecks performance art their way through multimedia musical spectacles that, in and of themselves, are breathtaking. These dudes don’t talk; they just look at you with a blank robot stare as they go about their post-modernist business of whacking paint-splattered drums.
I’m nervous. Like Tribbles, these alien blue queues are multiplying in numbers before our very eyes. Pretty soon, there will be legions of bald blue men marching around the streets of cities worldwide, shooting things out of tubes at innocent passersby while cocking their heads quizzically.
This will not do. I want to rack these blue balls up and send them flying. When I do, you might just hear me mutter, “2 ball in the corner pocket.” I’m nothing if not a ball-buster.