Tag Archives: musicvomit

Rewritten Song: Honey, Hear Me True (version 2)

Honey Hear Me True (version 2)

This right here. This song. This recording I did in my cold cold cold kitchen. It’s 58 degrees in here. This one is a re-do of a song from 2 years ago. This song, in fact. If you go and read about that first version, you’ll see that I thought I wasn’t done with it yet. That it needed work. That I would, in fact, keep working on it. I did not. I quit it. Until a couple days ago.

For the new version. The one you have here. The one you are listening to and reading about. This one. This new version is based on Ramblin’ Jack Elliott’s version of “The Roving Gambler.” Go listen to it. If you don’t. If you think you just do not have time. Well. Then. Okay. But I think you should, for what it’s worth.

So, I rewrote my song like that song. It’s a version of a version of a version into infinity. This version has some of the same words as the original version of mine. Only a few. It also has some of the same words as “The Roving Gambler.” That’s okay. It’s folk music. Or, it’s music. You’re allowed to take and steal and use and call your own. It’s okay. Trust me. I have an industry card. It says that on the back. I flip it over and look all the time.

Okay. No get to bed with your lover. Or your lonesome self. It’ll be okay. Alright? I mean. I’m telling myself it’ll be okay. See? It’ll be okay. Hear those pigeon calls?

The Talkin’ Headline Blues #105

The Talkin' Headline Blues #105

TV, churches, dog deserve
American Dream when
God loses.
Watch fraud!
Gay hypnosis kills
the innocent.

Rewritten Song: What did I ever ask you for? (version 2)

What did I ever ask you for? (version 2)

Well, here’s the second version of this song (originally written and recorded in December 2011). I used the Carter Family’s version of “Wouldn’t Mind Dying” as the melody. And I rearranged the words a bit. I like this one better, but it’s still a little too sentimental, I think.

Everybody Bound For Glory

AKA This Truck Ain’t Doin’ No Cookin’ (Version 2)

Everybody Bound For Glory (Ain't Doin' No Cookin', version 2)

I haven’t done a rewrite or re-recording of an old song in a long, long time (if you consider 7 months ago a long time). But I figured I’d get going on these again, at least to get me thinking about writing songs again. It’s been awhile since I even considered that (other than the Talkin’ Headline Blues that I’ve been keeping up with). Mainly that’s been due to not being on anti-depressants, then being on them, then feeling like a crazy person, then wanting to tear out all my veins, then feeling okay again, and, finally, repeating all that over and over and over.

So, anyway, I’m doing these again. Or, at least I’m going to try to keep up with them. This one is from back in late-November 2011. This is where you can hear the original and read about where the song came from.

It’s a little interesting because the original version was about a very specific thing. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to rewrite it since it’s so out of date. Then I started thinking about cooking. About doing no cooking. About what else you’d be doing with your stove if you weren’t cooking. About how anyone manages to hold it all together every single day.

So, it’s about a lot of things. Mainly it has nothing to do with cooking, though. See?

Also, this new version is a new version of an old song I wrote, but that old song was a rip-off of another, older song that I changed the words of in order to get my point across.

This new version feels more like a rewrite of that original, older song, Bound For Glory. It’s got no agenda. It makes every point. It’s got almost none of me in it. It’s got almost all of me in it.

It’s both of everything and none of nothing.

The Talkin’ Headline Blues #102

The Talkin' Headline Blues #102

Top sinkhole
sacred opponent’s missing
theory. Lion was
off to die.
Win filled with
the trust

I share this because it’s how I see the news. It’s how I read the headlines and get all my information about the world. I take it all in and pieces and parts and fragments come back out of me and I don’t know what to make of them. Don’t know what they mean at all. Don’t know how to use them. I look deeply into other eyes that look deeply into mine and I just see pieces and parts and fragments. I don’t know how to make one complete sound.