When I shake my pants you know I'm dressed to kill

I bring this to you as a tribute to drummers who sing* and possibly, subliminally because I've been watching men in spandex unitards on television for the last two weeks, and definitely because I heard it on Joe Soto's "Back in the Day" show on V103 in the car tonight.



Also, you might recognize the opening measures of this song.

One more thing: what is the silver vase thing dude in purple unitard on the right is playing?

Oh, and I swear they're singing "and we'll sexalate til the time is right, not "sex away," as all six lyrics sites I have consulted put forth.

*ahem, Levon should be number one.

We don't have the time for psychological romance

Oh man, this is so that time. SO that time. Huge, boxy snare drums and clavichordy keys. But that bass is the anchor for your booty and the reminder that, before their mid-80s peak, Cameo was a funkstravaganza in the mold of Parliament-Funkadelic and most definitely the Ohio Players.



I'm mostly tickled by Cameo because it reminds me of my friends' wedding reception, which was one of those that featured separate entrances into the Italian restaurant banquet hall (yes, this was Milwaukee, how did you guess) by the male and female halves of the wedding party. The guys trotted in to "Word Up." It was 1995, so in our ironic distance from high school and all things not involving two shitheads on guitars in flannel, we were all OH NO YOU DIDN'T. Except no one said OH NO YOU DIDN'T in '95, I think.

We said, OW. WORD UP.