an inappropriate application of glamour - and I still don't have my sunglasses

As an architect, Rose receives catalogs at work from any number of suppliers - including Kohler, the cover of whose latest catalog features this image:

It may not be immediately apparent to the casual viewer, but the object upon which our model is seated is, in fact, a toilet.

Now, someone at Kohler clearly decided hey, we've got a model, we'd better use her...but really, you'd think the absurdity of this perfectly (if bizarrely) coiffed, little-black-dressed woman casually seated atop a strangely plumbing-free toilet in an empty silver-white wilderness (practical me notes also the absence of any sort of hygienic appurtenances that might be necessary should the toilet actually be used) would've struck at least someone. Unless they're going for comedy (cuz, you know, toilets are always funny, at least to one's inner twelve-year-old).

The toilet itself is rather odd, being so stylized from its usual form (they call it a "hatbox toilet" - rather a metaphorically unpleasant name, doncha think?) that it takes a second to realize what it is...a delay that only makes the image's absurdity register more strongly. Oh - and in the catalog, the toilet is also depicted with its lid up, multiply exposed in three near-matching positions to suggest the idea of motion. Reading the copy, you discover this is meant to convey the "soft-touch" closing mechanism, a feature presumably added to the "hatbox" lest the unpleasant clang of porcelain remind denizens of Silver-White Surrealia that the toilet is, in fact, a physical object. But before you read the copy, you get the disturbing impression that the lid is, like so many other items of modern bathroom paraphernalia, motion-sensitive...and that at some level, it has an ass-sensor that allows it to open its maw when a likely user approaches. This, too, is disturbing on several levels.

Anyway, in a desperate bid to connect the toilet-advertising critique above with the musical component of this page, I note that the Australian label Lexicon Devil (mail-order here) has reissued Oil Tasters' 1981 self-titled LP, which contains the immortal "Get Out of the Bathroom." Oil Tasters were a three-piece featuring bass, drums, and sax - but (a) years before Morphine was a glimmer in Mark Sandman's eyes, and (b) despite what all the press says, not at all jazz-like. (Some critics apparently think "jazz" is a musical state conjured up exclusively, and universally, by the presence of a saxophone.) The LP was originally released (if I remember right) on a short-lived Alternative Tentacles subsidiary called Thermidor Records. The compilers of the CD issue have thoughtfully included a few bonus tracks from the two singles that preceded the LP, but they omitted "Let Me Sleep on Your Couch," an otherwise unreleased track from the LP sessions that showed up a few years back on the excellent double-disc compilation of early Milwaukee punk and new-wave bands, History in 3 Chords (theoretically available here). I'm not sure, but perhaps Richard LaValliere, who wrote the Oil Tasters' songs, was planning an entire suite based on different parts of the house.

Oil Tasters "Get Out of the Bathroom"
Oil Tasters "Let Me Sleep on Your Couch"