MacDaddy

How much did he pay?

There is now

? Allegedly!

It's been more than a couple of years, so has it?

And?

If the sh1t fits...

This is my first attempt, could probably get it better if I spent more time on it. I used the free version of DeepAI, this was the prompt; Highly detailed illustration of two legendary bass players, Bootsy Collins and Donald 'Duck' Dunn, standing side by side on a stage. Bootsy Collins is wearing a vibrant, glittery outfit with his iconic star-shaped sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, and holding a futuristic, star-themed bass guitar. Donald 'Duck' Dunn is depicted in a casual 1970s outfit: a button-up shirt, jeans, and a pipe in his mouth, holding a classic Fender Precision Bass. The scene includes realistic lighting with stage spotlights and a subtle audience in the background. Focus on accurate facial features and distinctive styles for both musicians.

The fail is possibly in the prompt and not the output. GIGO.

Finally got some pics

Yup, I asked AI (not ChatGPT) for the most popular work of each.

Certainly very talented, but if we accept Beethoven is a musical genius can we say that "You Belong With Me" compares to "Symphony No. 9 ("Ode to Joy") "?

The following is a true story. I put the details in to an AI (not ChatGPT!) and told it to write the post in the manner of a raconteur. Here's what it came up with: The night was electric, the air thick with the rumble of engines and the scent of beer-soaked revelry. Our band had just wrapped up our set at a biker rally, the kind of gig where leather jackets outnumber smiles, and the headlining act was ready to take the stage. We were tight with them, so we stuck around to watch the chaos unfold. The bassist of the headlining band—a man who lived like his strings, taut and unpredictable—had won a bottle of Jack Daniels in a raffle earlier that evening. With a swagger only a bassist could muster, he brought it on stage. By the second or third song, half the bottle was gone, a feat impressive even by biker rally standards. This was on top of an all-day beer marathon that would have felled lesser mortals. Then came the moment: mid-set, still cradling his bass (thankfully wireless), he wandered off stage. At first, we thought it was some avant-garde performance art. But no—he plopped himself into a front-row seat, clutching that £20 bottle of Jack like it was Excalibur, and promptly passed out cold. Attempts to wake him were futile; he was in a whiskey-induced slumber so deep it might as well have been mythological. The kicker? While he clung to that bottle for dear life, his £2000+ Rickenbacker bass—a gleaming piece of rock history—was left unattended. I had to step in, pick up his instrument, and finish the gig for him while he snored away in blissful ignorance. It was rock 'n' roll distilled into one perfect moment: absurdity, camaraderie, and a touch of chaos. And yes, we made sure he got his bass back—eventually.

The one when the vocalists mother dragged him off stage, drove him straight to a mental health facility and had him sectioned.

Load in at one particular venue was via the back entrance, through the kitchen and down various corridors. Cue many random shouts of "Hello Cleveland!".