Well, here’s a new version of a song I recorded and put out one year ago this week, “Almost always (or most of the time).” Finally I had one to mess around with. I’d taken a break last year for about 2 and a half months because I just stopped writing. But I picked it back up this week and haven’t stopped again yet.
So, I rewrote a couple parts of this tune. The repeating chorus line is different and it kinda changes the way this song comes across. I like this one better, I think. It’s different, though, so it’s hard to compare the two.
Anyway, check out the original recording here and then you can compare the two. Let me know which you like better.
Swallowed up by the deep blue sea covering over all the landmass, all the graves, all the mountaintops lifting to the unbreakable sky. The blue fades into the blue. My car motors along. I’m a wealthy man, spending pocket change charged to my credit card on three-one-hundredths of a gallon of gas. Millionaires, though, don’t bother themselves with such pettiness. They have their millions to arrange. They don’t ever get crashed by a storm. They don’t ever survive marriages. They just move on to the next new pair of legs. They’re just like me. Except I don’t have a warm outer shell of sheet fabric and fat covering my brittle bones. I don’t have clots rummaging around in my blood veins. Mine flows free within the constraints of my body walls. I flow free within the constraints of computer systems and road maps. I’ll never leave the planet earth, my two feet always on or in the ground in some manner. Except when I’m dancing or jumping in fear. Or hurtling across the globe in a plane fuselage aimed at different destinations. Wherever I go, I guess there’ll always be a mugshot to be afraid of. Someone lurking in the black depths. Someone to lumber out of the seafoam. Someone to toss Easter eggs at my face with a sidearm pitchers stance. What’d I ever do wrong in my life? I’m just about as perfect as you are too.
Wrote this song on Saturday over the weekend. It’s a long one. Over seven minutes. Can you make it the whole way through?
I’ll tell you some background about it to help you out.
It’s loosely based on Bob Dylan’s tune “Maggie’s Farm.” Very loosely. Pretty much just the sentiment of that song (other than some of the words in the first verse), which is basically not wanting to get tied down to repetitive, uninteresting tasks. To divorce yourself from that which bores you no matter what everyone else says or thinks you should do or wants you to do or knows you should do.
Speaking of that…the Barehand Jugband is rollin on into the Double Door on Tuesday the 3rd for a show with the Hoyle Brothers and the Shams Band. You should come check that out if you’ve never seen the band before.
In other news…this week I’ll start posting re-recorded versions of tunes from 2010 again. Last year I took a couple months off from writing and recording, although, not intentionally. But this is the point where I picked it up again and then haven’t missed another week (except for one in August) since. So look for that on Thursday and Friday.
I wrote this new one yesterday after reading an article on a botched U.S. military bombing in Afghanistan. Basically the military (meaning 2 guys sitting in a video room in Nevada controlling a drone 4,000 miles away) targeted a group of civilians and mistook them for insurgents and blistered their cars with helicopter bullets and missiles. A bunch of them died. The families of the innocent dead were given 48 hundred dollars as compensation. That’s tax money right there. I’d be willing to give a little more, though, wouldn’t you? And I’d be willing to spend some of my cash to court marshall those responsible.
But anyway, that ain’t up to me. And that’s only how the song started.
It quickly moved away from any kind of political-ridiculous song. And I like where it went. It’s kinda a blues-type-thing. I recorded it in one take, so there’s a couple mistakes in there and after I recorded it I made a few minor edits to a few of the lines just to clean up the phrasing. But what you hear is the basic outline for the song, which I’m gonna start playing out soon.
Speaking of that…I have a show coming up on May 15 at Uncommon Ground in Wrigleyville. It’ll be a hot one. Jonas Friddle from the Barehand Jugband is doing a solo set too. And Indignation Jones is also playing. I go on at 7 and play for 45 minutes.
The jugband’s also got a big show at Double Door coming up on Tuesday, May 3. We’ll be strutting around the stage and dripping sweat. It’s only 5 bucks to get in and the Hoyle Brothers and Shams Band are playing too. Come check it out. Starts at 9pm.
The Big Money Truck haulin through the stretches of Idaho unearthed the blackened body of a diggin man while his country, far overseas laid down the law. Lots a love-makin over the great blue ocean. Lots a tunnels gone through. Lots to figure out.
Something funny said. Hair transportation via laser-guided missiles which seek out secrets that spoil the surprises to be found by investigative journalists five years after a terrible event.And what of blind eyes? The sun’s been hidden lately. The clouds covering everything.
Jesus Christ rose from the grave so long ago. Who says in today’s age he wouldn’t fall down a flight of stairs, or off the top of a very tall building? Maybe his balance is off? Maybe he’d get gunned down for making too much noise? In any event he’d still probably welcome anyone into his home no matter what they looked like or which way they entered. If you’re not concerned with that at least you can catch the redeye outta St. Louis again.
Oh, thanks the Lawd! The defenders of truth and justice and the American way are stickin their necks out so far. They will not take the stand. They will issue no opinions. They have nothing to gain. For now. I spent 70 dollars of my hard-earned cash on gas yesterday. I can remember when 70 dollars was a lot of money. When I’d dream to get 70 dollars in my pocket. Feel the cool crispness of the cash cracking between my fingers. Now it ain’t nothin special. Just gets me where I gotta go to make more 70 dollar increments so I can spend em to get where I need to go. Probably, though, 70 dollars couldn’t buy much of anything. Not a sporting event ticket for sure. And, probably not happiness no matter who you are.
Music Vomit 