Director: Closing shot, "Don't Soot Minnesota" public service announcement, take two.

Paul Bunyan: Hiya, kids. I'm Paul Bunyan. I wanted to remind everyone that only you can prevent forest fires. Please don't make Paul cry... Oh, and if I can throw in one last recommendation...

Director: What the...?! Cut! Cut!

Producer: No, Toby, let's hear what he has to say.

Director: This better be good... keep rolling.

Paul Bunyan: Now, kids, I don't get around to listening to much music. All this forest fire-preventing and defending America from Canadians keeps me pretty busy. But I happened upon this band called Babe the Blue Ox.

Babe the Blue Ox: Moo?!

Paul Bunyan: Ho ho! No, silly, not you! Babe the Blue Ox is a funky little indie band from Brooklyn. Although I can't for the life of me see why they're still considered "indie." I took notice of them when my lawyer...

[Paul's lawyer walks on set]

Lawyer: Hiya!

Paul Bunyan: ...when ol' Barry here came to me saying that some little band from the Big Apple wanted the rights to use my pet cow's name. I'm not one to stop kids from dreaming, so I said, "Ho ho! Sure!" Now, I kept up with this trio for years, and I'm proud to say they've just released another album, The Way We Were. They effortlessly shift from butt-funky grooves to delicate melodies.

Hanna and Rosalee are the best all-female rhythm section I've ever come across. They lock that shit down. It's so deep and nasty at times that it makes me want to run away, become a gymnosophist, and get sweaty. They're as colorful and scrumptious as a bowl full of Skittles and Starburst. I wanna put 'em all in my mouth at once until I can't chew and rainbow drool runs down my chin.

Tim Thomas, the singer and guitarist, has a penchant for packing a melody, hook, and groove into a deceptively simple package. His playing can morph from feather-light picking to wah-wah shake to stocky assault. And when one of the girls chimes in to back up Tim's pipes... why, it's just sour cream frosting.

The Way We Were offers 14 unique nuggets of sweet songs. It's a total blast! On "Basketball," in particular, they pull it all together into a breezy playground anthem. It's not deep. It's not groundbreaking. It's just a quick blast-- the gush of a fire hydrant in the sweltering summer.

It's also possible that The Way We Were is a light concept album about bein' in a band in a big city. It's best listened to on public transportation with headphones. A soundtrack to anonymity and motion in the big city. It's hard to hate that, kids. This is the sound of a veteran band having a ball and being in-the-zone. So, remember-- number one, only you can prevent forest fires. And, number two, go out and buy Babe the Blue Ox's The Way We Were for a fresh blast of outside air in the claustrophobic subway tunnels of modern rock. Please don't make Paul cry... okay, scratch that. Number one, buy the new Babe the Blue Ox record, then, number two, that forest fire crap.

[Paul, his Lawyer, and Babe hold hands and hooves, singing the candy chorus of "Basketball," as the camera pulls back to reveal postcard-esque Minnesota wilderness.]

Paul, Laywer, and Babe: "Pass it to me, I am free/ Look, there's no one guarding me/ Never gonna be/ Never gonna be/ Ten feet tall...

Director: Goddamn, that's beautiful!

-Brent DiCrescenzo