{"id":807514,"date":"2020-05-16T12:00:33","date_gmt":"2020-05-16T18:00:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/uncategorized\/uncategorized-news\/the-14-craziest-musician-acting-cameos-97763\/"},"modified":"2020-05-16T12:00:33","modified_gmt":"2020-05-16T18:00:33","slug":"the-14-craziest-musician-acting-cameos","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/music-news\/the-14-craziest-musician-acting-cameos\/","title":{"rendered":"The 14 Craziest Musician Acting Cameos"},"content":{"rendered":"<div><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/rs-17774-bieber-624-1373563869.jpg\" class=\"ff-og-image-inserted\"><\/div>\n<p>Looking back at some of the strangest cameos in film and TV history, we were&nbsp;struck by how many of them were by musicians. It makes sense. After all, musicians are already out of place among actors on a TV or film set. What they bring to the table is different from what actors bring, in terms of star quality, charisma, self-expression and established personae. If you\u2019re familiar with both the musician\u2019s work and the characters in a movie or TV show (and the actors who play them), then it\u2019s fun to watch the discharge of weird energy that takes place in the pop star\u2019s fish-out-of-water encounters with fictional characters and the stars who portray them. Here, then, are 14 of our favorites from over the years.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/R_0E7x3Nqys?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span> <\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/tom-waits\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Tom Waits<\/a>, <em>Fernwood 2Night<\/em> (1977)<\/strong><br \/>The <em>faux<\/em> talk show hosted by Barth Gimble (Martin Mull) and Jerry Hubbard (Fred Willard) books Waits as a guest, since a tour bus breakdown has stranded the whiskey-voiced crooner in the Midwestern town of the title. It\u2019s weird to hear a laugh track over Waits\u2019 performance of \u201cThe Piano Has Been Drinking,\u201d with each of its wry little ironies prompting loud guffaws. And then Waits sits down for a surreal interview with the clueless small-town hosts. Mull and Willard are two of the funniest men in TV history, but they play it straight as city slicker Waits drops sly one-liners and cadges $20 from the pair. It\u2019s easy to imagine, back in 1977, an audience that was just as puzzled as the hosts were by Waits\u2019 shtick.<\/p>\n<p><a class=\"inStoryLink\" href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/movies\/movie-lists\/actors-who-rock-big-screen-stars-with-rock-star-chops-11230\/\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Actors Who Rock: Big-Screen Stars With Rock Star Chops<\/a><\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/y-LJ0_rOgd8?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/the-clash\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">The Clash<\/a>, <em>The King of Comedy<\/em> (1983)<\/strong><br \/>They\u2019re just billed in the movie as \u201cStreet Scum,\u201d but among the gang of New York City street-corner punks who make fun of Sandra Bernhard\u2019s character in one scene are Clash mainstays Mick Jones, Paul Simonon, and Joe Strummer. (Director Martin Scorsese was reportedly a fan of the British punk pioneers.) Also present are the band\u2019s manager, Kosmo Vinyl, filmmaker Don Letts, singer Pearl Harbour and singer-actress Ellen Foley (Meat Loaf\u2019s \u201cParadise By the Dashboard Light\u201d duet partner, and later a star of TV\u2019s <em>Night Court<\/em>).<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/jLo7tHDHgOc?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/bo-diddley\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Bo Diddley<\/a>, <em>Trading Places<\/em> (1983)<\/strong><br \/>The rock guitar pioneer shows up in this comedy classic as a Philadelphia pawnbroker who believes that down-and-out Dan Aykroyd is trying to sell him a stolen watch. The former commodities broker insists that the watch is worth thousands of dollars and tells time in several different world cities, including Gstaad. Diddley\u2019s delivery is priceless on the reply: \u201cIn Philadelphia, it\u2019s worth 50 bucks.\u201d The scene ends as the man behind the album <em>Bo Diddley Is a Gunslinger<\/em> sells Aykroyd a pistol.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/bUa_jge7Uq8?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span> <\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/lou-reed\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Lou Reed<\/a>, <em>Get Crazy<\/em> (1983)<\/strong><br \/>In this nearly forgotten comedy by Allan Arkush (<em>Rock \u2018n\u2019 Roll High School<\/em>) about a New Year\u2019s Eve all-star rock concert, Reed plays Auden, who\u2019s an apparent gloss on <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/bob-dylan\/\" id=\"auto-tag_bob-dylan\" data-tag=\"bob-dylan\">Bob Dylan<\/a>. It\u2019s an interesting casting idea \u2013 both Dylan and Reed were Sixties visionaries who expanded the artistic vocabulary of rock, then spent the rest of their careers exploring vastly different but occasionally overlapping territories. Still, given how much their paths diverged, Reed\u2019s take on Dylan seems surprisingly spot-on and hilarious. He\u2019s soft-spoken, deliberately obscure and enigmatic, endlessly fascinating, and (onstage) completely on fire.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/IzhRWExqLCM?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span> <\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/boy-george\/\" id=\"auto-tag_boy-george\" data-tag=\"boy-george\">Boy George<\/a>, <em>The A-Team<\/em> (1986)<\/strong><br \/>You probably never realized how much camp was behind the macho heroics of <em>The A-Team<\/em> until the flamboyant George O\u2019Dowd showed up. At a time when both Culture Club and the A-Team were getting a bit past their prime, they joined forces in an unlikely episode where Face (Dirk Benedict) hits a snag as a music promoter when he mistakenly books CC into a country-western nightspot full of homophobic cowpokes. (See, he thought he was getting an act called Cowboy George, not Boy George.) Still, the British new-wavers save the day, first when they win over the country crowd, and second, when they help the team foil a robbery of the venue\u2019s till. At a key moment, Boy George shows how butch he is by kicking in a door. (Then he cracks up, unable to keep from breaking character.) \u201cTotally awesome, Hannibal,\u201d George tells George Peppard. Indeed, totally awesome.<\/p>\n<p> <span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/4JfpdGJk5nc?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/miles-davis\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Miles Davis<\/a>, <em>Scrooged<\/em> (1988)<\/strong><br \/>The inventor of cool plays the leader of a band of street musicians performing Christmas carols in front of the midtown Manhattan office building where Bill Murray\u2019s bah-humbug TV executive rules with an iron fist. Davis and company (including fellow ringers Larry Carlton, David Sanborn and Paul Shaffer) barely get through a few bars of a muted, crackling, \u201cWe Three Kings of Orient Are\u201d before Murray lashes out at them, calling the buskers amateurs who must have just learned the tune yesterday and who ought to take their collected change and use it on music lessons. Offscreen, one can imagine the two Zen masters, Miles and Murray, either bonding over their shared bad attitudes or else avoiding each other completely out of mutual alpha-male respect. Onscreen, one simply gasps at Murray\u2019s chutzpah \u2013 though, really, who else would have the balls to dis Miles Davis to his face?<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/uJC6GWZGswY?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/the-flaming-lips\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">The Flaming Lips<\/a>, <em>Beverly Hills 90210<\/em> (1995)<\/strong><br \/>In the episode \u201cLove Hurts,\u201d the alt-rockers give a fairly straightforward performance (by their standards \u2013 no animal costumes, for instance) of their then-recent hit \u201cShe Don\u2019t Use Jelly.\u201d Nonetheless, the Fox drama\u2019s resolutely unhip teens and twentysomethings seem thoroughly bewildered, even disappointed. Well, not Steve Sanders (Ian Ziering), who admits that he\u2019s not much into alternative music, but these guys \u201crocked the house!\u201d His date, however, grumbles that the Lips are no Michael Bolton. Nope, they\u2019re not.<\/p>\n<p> <span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/vW-8-aIr00I?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/iggy-pop\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Iggy Pop<\/a>, <em>The Adventures of Pete &amp; Pete<\/em> (1995)<\/strong><br \/>The Artist Formerly Known as James Osterberg appeared on five episodes of the Nineties kidcom, playing James Mecklenberg, overprotective father to Nona (Michelle Trachtenberg), the sometime love interest of Little Pete (Danny Tamberelli). In the episode \u201cDance Fever,\u201d the Stooges frontman comes along to the school dance and embarrasses his daughter with a sung request (in that singular Iggy Pop baritone croon) to have the last dance, but Little Pete slides in and Pop-blocks him, much to Nona\u2019s relief.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/9z1wX69Swqk?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/tom-jones\/\" id=\"auto-tag_tom-jones\" data-tag=\"tom-jones\">Tom Jones<\/a>, <em>Mars Attack<\/em>s (1996)<\/strong><br \/>Your great-aunt\u2019s favorite Vegas heartthrob crooner plays himself in Tim Burton\u2019s alien invasion spoof. Not surprisingly, the ageless, virile Welshman proves his indestructibility as a survivalist hero after the vicious Martians all but level the gambling Mecca. (Still, it\u2019s another singer, the recently deceased country yodeler Slim Whitman, whose high-pitched vocals prove fatal to the sensitive-eared Martians.)<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/AYIUBV6wJt8?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span> <\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/t\/aimee-mann\/\" id=\"auto-tag_aimee-mann\" data-tag=\"aimee-mann\">Aimee Mann<\/a>, <em>The Big Lebowski<\/em> (1997)<\/strong><br \/>Pop thrush Mann has a blink-and-you\u2019ll-miss-it cameo in the Joel and Ethan Coen comedy cult favorite as one of the German nihilists. Specifically, she\u2019s the one who sacrifices her green-nail-polish-adorned toe for the cause. (Also part of the group is Red Hot Chili Peppers exhibitionist Flea.) It\u2019s one of the former \u2018Til Tuesday singer\u2019s few acting performances. She\u2019s slightly more vocal in an appearance as herself, performing at the Bronze nightclub on <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer<\/em> in a 2002 episode, where she gets to say, \u201cMan, I hate playing vampire towns.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/6Ix5Hn_NaTM?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/bob-dylan#timeline\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Bob Dylan<\/a>, <em>Dharma &amp; Greg<\/em> (1999)<\/strong><br \/>Wacky hippie-chick Dharma (Jenna Elfman) auditions to play drums for Dylan\u2019s band. At least for a few minutes of sitcom time, the music icon proves unexpectedly tolerant of her mugging, spotlight-hogging and lack of rhythmic diversity. The band (ncluding such aces as T Bone Burnett and Joe Henry) manage to follow her lead for a few numbers, but even after Bob tries tactfully to give her the brush-off, she still has the chutzpah to ask if Dylan and his pros will help her load her drum set into her van. Dylan has the grace to find her more amusing than insulting.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/DZE7OchG3DY?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/bruce-springsteen#timeline\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Bruce Springsteen<\/a>, <em>High Fidelity<\/em> (2000)<\/strong><br \/>The Boss has dispensed a lot of advice over the years, but he\u2019s acted in only one movie. Here, he appears as himself, rock icon, moral exemplar and guru to John Cusack\u2019s music-store geek. The vignette has its roots in Nick Hornby\u2019s novel, and Cusack\u2019s real-life acquaintance with Springsteen made the cameo a reality. Bruce tosses off a few guitar licks and words of wisdom about women, but what he says is of less consequence than the surprising fact that he\u2019s there at all.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/0nS7qpH89hY?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/elvis-costello\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Elvis Costello<\/a> (with Sean Penn and Harry Dean Stanton), <em>Two and a Half Men<\/em> (2004)<\/strong><br \/>In the Season Two premiere, boozy jingle writer Charlie Harper (Charlie Sheen) invites a few pals over for a night of cigars, Scotch and male bonding. The pals just happen to be an Oscar-winning movie star, a legendary pop songwriter and a veteran character actor. It\u2019s odd to see such celebrated talents used as props to throw into sharp relief the ongoing tensions between Charlie and his dweeby brother Alan (Jon Cryer), but all three guests get off several good punchlines, generally at their own expense. And Costello takes an offhand comment of Penn\u2019s, in which he denies having any flagpole-raising problems with his then-wife Robin Wright, and turns it into a mournful ballad, with the refrain \u201cRally \u2019round the flag.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/bdlAewGrJSc?version=3&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com&amp;rel=1&amp;fs=1&amp;autohide=2&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=1&amp;iv_load_policy=1&amp;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\">[embedded content]<\/iframe><\/span> <\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/artist\/justin-bieber\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" target=\"_blank\">Justin Bieber<\/a>, <em>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation<\/em> (2010-11)<\/strong><br \/>The Canadian teen idol appeared on two episodes of the veteran procedural drama as Jason McCann, a young anti-tax radical and a bomb expert who causes explosive mayhem all over Las Vegas before the cops shoot him dead. The pop singer didn\u2019t make Beliebers \u2013 er, believers \u2013 out of a lot of longtime <em>CSI<\/em> fans, but whatever twisted schemes his character is planning behind that baby face, you certainly can\u2019t take your eyes off him.<\/p>\n<p><em>This list was originally published in July 2013<\/em><\/p>\n<div class=\"pmc-contextual-player\">\n<h3>Popular on Rolling Stone<\/h3>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rollingstone.com\/music\/music-news\/musician-movies-acting-cameos-97763\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">via:: Rolling Stone<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Looking back at some of the strangest cameos in film and TV history, we were&nbsp;struck by how many of them were by musicians. It makes sense. After all, musicians are already out of place among actors on a TV or film set. What they bring to the table is different from what actors bring, in [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[98],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-807514","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-music-news"},"acf":[],"publishpress_future_action":{"enabled":false,"date":"2026-07-10 22:17:59","action":"change-status","newStatus":"draft","terms":[],"taxonomy":"category","extraData":[]},"publishpress_future_workflow_manual_trigger":{"enabledWorkflows":[]},"distributor_meta":false,"distributor_terms":false,"distributor_media":false,"distributor_original_site_name":"KSMT The Mountain","distributor_original_site_url":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt","push-errors":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/807514","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=807514"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/807514\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=807514"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=807514"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/ksmt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=807514"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}