Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

izzy's playlists!

Love Begins
Show & Tell
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Product Placement
sheepfilms

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

No title available
Cosimo Galluzzi
No title available

titsay
todays bird

oozey mess
Not today Justin

seen from North Macedonia

seen from North Macedonia
seen from France
seen from Lithuania
seen from Canada
seen from Netherlands
seen from Lithuania

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Philippines

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from North Macedonia

seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
@usmcmax
OP theaverycottage on TikTok ♡
...WOW. 🤩
Holy cow, that's amazing!
The Legend of the Skull & Bones
By the Jolly Rogers
The day was April First. The year was 1945. The place was Ready Room Three onboard USS Bunker HIll, on station one hundred miles off the coast of Okinawa. This day would mark the beginning of the invasion of Okinawa. Fighters Squadron SEVENTEEN would participate in the invasion, providing air support in the area. Fighter Squadron SEVENTEEN's reputation in the Pacific theater was well known, and Japanese pilots feared the sight of VF-17's Skull and Crossbones emblazoned F4U Corsairs.
Ensign Jack Ernie and the other squadron pilots completed their preflight briefings and headed to the flight deck of USS Bunker HIll to man their aircraft. Jack and his fellow pilots had already shot down over 100 Japanese aircraft, and anxiously awaited the day's opportunity to add more Japanese kills to their record.
stories-04-01Two hous later, however, over the skies of Okinawa, Ensign Jack Ernie began losing engine oil and in an attempt to disenage from the fight with his crippled Corsair, was attacked by two Japanese Zeroes. Without the full power of his engine available, Jack was at a disadvantage, but he fought valiantly, splashing one of the Zeroes before being overcome by the second. As his Corsair plummeted earthward he made two transmissions; "Skipper, I can't get out" followed by a short pause and then, "Remember me with the Jolly Rogers."
For his actions that day, Ensign Ernie was posthumously awared the Navy Cross. His remains were not recovered until many years later, after VF-17 had been decommissioned and the Skull and Crossbones insignia adopted by Fighter Squadron EIGHTY-FOUR. After its commissioning in 1955, in an attempt ot trace the history of its squadron insignia, the story of Ensign Jack Ernie was revealed to VF-84 by Jack's family and upon their suggestion and consent, Jack's skull and femurs were encased in glass and presented to the squadron, thereby fulfilling Jack's last request of being remember to the Jolly Rogers.
To this day, Ensign Jack Ernie is retained on the squadron rooster and his skull and bones go with the Jolly Rogers wherever they go, serving as a symbol of courage and heroism for all Jolly Rogers to follow.
@F14Association.com
If anyone think this is an exaggeration:
Oh, the list gets longer, bro!
So true ‼️‼️ http://www.facebook.com/pages/p/102416041800702
THAT THUG DIED OF AN OVERDOSE NOT BECAUSE A COP HAD HIS KNEE ON HIS NECK.
Typical ghetto trash.
Alfred E Newman. The good old days
She played bass on 10,000 songs, including the most-played track of the twentieth century. She was paid $55 per session. Her name never appeared on the albums.
Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles, 1964. A woman in a cardigan walks past the receptionist, a Fender Precision bass in her hand like a briefcase. She doesn’t sign autographs. She signs a timesheet.
Her name is Carol Kaye. In three hours, she will record what will become the most-played track of the twentieth century. She’ll pocket fifty-five dollars and head to another studio, on the other side of town, for the next session.
The record label will never put her name on the album.
Between 1957 and 1973, Carol Kaye took part in roughly 10,000 recording sessions. Not as the featured artist, not as a guest, but as a hired hand. She was part of an anonymous collective nicknamed The Wrecking Crew—elite studio musicians who actually played the instruments on your favorite records while the famous bands posed for promotional photos.
The work was relentless. Three albums before the day was over. Stale coffee in paper cups. No rehearsal. The charts arrived minutes before the tape rolled. If you couldn’t read a chart and nail the take in two tries, you didn’t get called for the next session.
Carol could do it on the first try.
She started playing guitar in grimy bars at fourteen because her family couldn’t pay the electric bill. Music wasn’t a romantic dream for her. It was survival. It was a job—factory work with better acoustics and lower pay.
But she was faster and sharper than almost everyone else. She corrected charts in pencil while the producer was still explaining what he wanted. In one session in 1968, she told a famous producer his arrangement sounded like a dying dog. She chose her own line. They kept her version.
That descending bass line that drives the Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”? Carol Kaye. The propulsive groove of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’”? Carol Kaye. The acoustic-guitar intro to “La Bamba”? Carol Kaye. The iconic theme from Mission: Impossible? Carol Kaye.
She invented techniques on the spot, out of sheer necessity. When the bass sound was too muddy for AM radio, she stuck felt under the strings and used a hard pick instead of her fingers. The tone cut through the static like a blade. It became the sonic signature that defined 1960s pop.
Bassists spent years—decades—trying to crack the secret of the Beach Boys’ gear to get that sound. They were studying the wrong people. They should have been studying Carol.
She received no royalties. No residuals. No gold-record ceremony. No credit on the album sleeves. When “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” hit number one, Carol was already back in a studio cutting a soap jingle.
The biggest bands mimed her bass lines on TV variety shows. New York marketing departments decided a mom in classic clothes didn’t fit the rebellious-youth image they were selling. So they simply left her name off the album credits.
For thirty years, almost no one cared. The truth only began to surface in the late 1990s, when music researchers found the same union contract numbers on thousands of hit records. The very documents meant to preserve studio musicians’ anonymity betrayed them.
Think about it. Every time you heard “Good Vibrations,” “River Deep – Mountain High,” the Righteous Brothers, Nancy Sinatra, or Sonny and Cher, you were hearing Carol Kaye. She composed the soundtrack of an entire generation’s youth.
And yet the records still say nothing. She’s now over eighty. She wrote instructional books. She trained countless bassists. She is finally starting to be recognized by music historians who uncovered the truth about The Wrecking Crew.
But she never got what she deserved: her name on those albums. Credit for the music that defined an era. Recognition that those bass lines everyone associates with the “Beach Boys” were, in fact, Carol Kaye’s.
Fifty-five dollars a session. Ten thousand sessions. The most-played track of the twentieth century.
And the world didn’t know her name.
She was admitted to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2025 but refused, fuck yeah, Carol. Her official website is incredible.
Carol Kaye is the bassist GOAT.
Respect.