Ever known an ass you really, really loved to an unimaginable degree -- a behind that spoke to you like no other? If so, Bob Log III has a doozy of a sales pitch for you. On his website, the semi-mysterious one-man band is now selling custom-written songs about butts, which come at $199.99 a pop (plus shipping for five CDs containing the track). "Shake your ass to a song about your own ass!" is one of the project's slogans, but why limit the possibilities? Send in a picture (clothed or naked) of the chosen buns -- yours, your girlfriend's, your boyfriend's, your mom's -- and Log will stare at the image until he's inspired to compose a song designed to make that particular derrière move. Ass aside, the customer picks a few song specifics: guitar or banjo, beat style, and tempo, whether the tune will have lyrics or not, and what the name of said ass might be.
Since starting the project around eight months ago, Log has received some 20 orders and is enjoying this challenge's unusual parameters. "It's actually kind of liberating when you only have so much information about something and you have to make the song about it," he says.
(A less-advertised option indicates that you also can purchase a song written about a pet, but what's a more entertaining object of affection: a poodle or a posterior?)
The butt-song project is a gimmick, yes, but it's an entertaining one that very much clicks with the guitarist/drummer/singer's lovably tacky aesthetic. Log, 44, alternates residences between Melbourne and Tucson. He is reportedly actually named Robert Logan Reynolds III, and he draws his loud, theatrical, rock 'n' roll-loving shtick from sorts like AC/DC's Angus Young, Elvis Presley, Peaches, and the Cramps. On stage, he dons a blue one-piece leotard and a motorcycle helmet with a rotary telephone receiver attached to its jaw, looking like the lighthearted, rock-themed, B-list superhero 1970s Marvel Comics never published.
Musically, he makes a cheerfully sweaty, unkempt blend of Delta blues and rockabilly that nods to AC/DC, Screamin' Jay Hawkins, and Hasil Adkins. It's a sound built to light up performances, and his live shows -- typically 150 a year -- are where he really thrills. If being a one-man band wasn't enough of a highlight, he uses tracks with audacious titles like "Land of a Thousand Swirling Asses" and "Clap Your Tits" to encourage crowds to go wild. During one song, he invites women from the audience up to sit on each knee while he plays the drums.
He's also a proponent of "Boob Scotch," a drink he invented after his song of that name. Its recipe calls for scotch and ice, plus a breast to mix them around. In a reoccurring (and successful) event, he will ask ladies to come up to help him make the drink. But even as Log spends so much time obsessing over anatomy, it's with a different and less sexualized tack than, say, Nicki Minaj discussing her own ass. He exalts the absurdity of bodies for the sake of the party.
It all speaks to the true joys of Log: the crudeness, the goofiness, the spectacle, the careless fun. Sometimes, things can go a bit overboard -- people can rush the stage or equipment can get disconnected -- but Log embraces the havoc for better and worse. "All my songs are basically trying to get people to dance, dance like they probably shouldn't dance," he says, later adding, "What I do is I go around and I make a guitar party every night. It's kind of like an un-birthday. It's for no reason."
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