Everyone’s e-mailing me about this Polka Floyd nonsense. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when accordian bands go viral as much as the next guy, but I don’t think there’s a damn thing in the world that will ever make the music of Pink Floyd appealing to me. Overblown 1970s druggie concept rock will never have a place in my heart (or my butt, for that matter). G.G. Allin could rise from the grave and perform The Wall in its entirety with the cast of “Sesame Street” and I’d still puke up a Cosby kid. Sorry, Polka Floyd. You should have done Ozzy tunes and called yourselves Welk Sabbath.
I can’t hear you over that whistling sound.
Previously: Deadboy: No Aardvarking, But Still Good