We never thought the Original Dirty Rapper would meet the Old Gray Lady, but there it is: a proper Times obituary for Clarence Reid, the singer-songwriter better known as Blowfly. Reid, of course, is the other musical genius we lost to liver cancer this month. His puerile parodies of soul, disco, punk, and rap songs may not have been as universally loved and lauded as Bowie’s tunes, but it’s safe to say the masked musician’s stage get-up was just as out there as Ziggy’s. Hell, some of Blowfly’s caped costumes made Sun Ra look normcore.
Blowfly’s breakthrough early-’70s album, The Weird World of Blowfly, consisted of covers such as “Shitting On The Dock Of The Bay,” in which he crooned about “watching my great big turds float away.” Basically, what Weird Al is to food, Blowfly was to sex and bodily functions. Which is why we weren’t surprised to learn, from the Times, the title of his forthcoming album.