So, apparently nobody knows
what the music during the late
Roman Republic sounded like.
They speculate that it was probably
single note stuff, no harmony.
I don’t know about that.
Here’s a tune giving voice to the
ancient dudes of olden days.
They were in a kind of suspended
animation, but I called them and
asked them if they would be willing
to chime in. Surprisingly, they did
so with a kinda sorta big bandish
sensibility.
Who knew?
What kind of movie would this tune
fit into? Hmmmm. How about a biker
flick. Or any mob flick where there’s
a power struggle and the implication
that a major player is somewhat
imperious, haughty or autocratic.
Heck, a Roman Republican musical
should have black dudes in togas
swaying to side to side and belting
out a paean to Caesar’s bridging
the Rhine in 10 days or double
circumvallating Alesia in two weeks.
Maybe this makes no sense now, but
when I’m finished, the phrase “double
circumvallation” will be as common as
um er “awesome, dude!” or how about
“hitherto undiscovered” or how about
“compulsively readable”.
I had this tune in my head for years. It
was my daffy send up to the unlikely,
concocted emotions you’d witness
in a television game show.
You know, where people jump up and down
on cue and hug Bob Barker’s neck even though
they know full well that the refrigerator
they just won will cost an arm and a leg in
taxes but hopefully they’ll get into the
showcase round and have a shot at the
Winnebego.
I was doing a concert for brass and I was
a few tunes short.
I had a brainwave…why not resurrect…or
is that excavate this tune from the recesses
of my skull. I’ll admit that it’s a rough
performance — very rough — but when did
that ever stop me?
The roughness is due in part to the fact that we
were a drastically underrehearsed orchestra
composed in the main of students doing me
a favour and not feeling constrained to learn
their parts.
And, my only copy of this particular
live performance at a bar in Toronto got chewed
up in the decks at CIUT radio in Toronto, where I
moronically handed it to the guy in the booth
to accompany an interview with Cindy Matthews
of The Cameron House.
So, what movie? Or, what kind of movie?
There are two categories for songs in movies..
the thematically apt and the random. Within
thematically apt, you have moods matching, and
you also have words matching themes or underscoring
things going on on the screen.
So, obviously, A New Car could accompany a scene of
someone getting ready to buy, you guessed, a new
car….Borat had a fun car buying scene.
It could also be used to denote crass commercialism
or tacky conformity.
Or, of course it could be inserted out of total randomness
or whimsy. In any case, get my song in a movie already.
For years I walked around
singing, “With all my heart,
with all my soul”, and I
thought there must be a
zillion songs with these words.
Will I get sued?
Funny, in the post Google world
you can see how many or
few references there are for
search terms. Sometimes,
it’s surprising.
For instance, a recent post was
called ‘Blue Eyed Lady’. That’s
a common enough phrase, isn’t
it? Well, my post was immediately
number 4 on Google.
Anyway, I digress. Here’s a sweet
little ditty that grew up to be a novel
disguised as a 6/8 Fats Domino-ish
soulful bray.
The story I appended to the chorus
has a tinge of autobiography to it.
The singer is apologetic about how
he was a shit in the relationship.
I think I was fantasizing, quite frankly,
about the “other” making such an
apology to me. Ha!
I even made up stuff about the
neglectful guy who hurts the woman
and then apologizes.
“You gave me so much girl,
and I made you pay”.
(Can I just say here that
the song ‘You Were Always
On My Mind’ is the saddest and
lamest thing I have ever heard
in my life. That Elvis or Willie
Nelson could ever with a straight
face make such a confession to a
woman without getting whacked
with a frying pan is beyond me!
What is he saying…I neglected you,
I ran around…I didn’t honour you,
I didn’t keep my promises…I didn’t
“love” you…meaning didn’t do the
nasty or the lovely as the case may be…
but I was thinking about you!!!
All the time! Okay?
And women are touched by this!)
Anyway this tune is my grudging
contribution to that sad and sorry
little sub-genre.
Note in my characteristic everything
in one take demo styling that the
piano is four handed. I can’t play
those cool riffs while maintaining
the Fats Domino left hand.
I confess.
And I tried to get slightly Mills
Brothers-ish backups and half
succeeded. The trick, I suppose
is to have multiple singing personas
otherwise the backups sound like
the same person singing three
or four parts.
All right. Enough of the recriminations
and breast beatings. What kind of
movie should host this song?
Hmmmm, well Sydney Pollack
died, so he can’t use it. I’ve been
noticing that sometimes songs
are chosen to tightly reflect
the scene they accompany. And
other times they are chosen
for contrast or for “feel”. Sometimes
the lyric is supposed to connect
thematically to what the characters
are going through.
Other times it’s a complete mismatch.
I watched two movies on television
the other night. “The General’s
Daughter” and “In the Line of Fire”.
I noticed which songs were selected.
I particularly noticed that the two
songs which accompanied the
credits of ‘In the Line of Fire’ had
diddly to do with anything, so I
offer to Hollywood this song for
anything at all.
How about a movie about the
stock market? Or about daring
aviators at the time of Wilbur
and Orville. It can’t be about
someone saying what the song
is saying, can it?
And the song is saying,
“Before I go I want you to know
that I loved you all the way”.
Meanwhile, here’s the ditty.
Forgive me the Elvis bits.
And notice the kewl blues
riff at the end. Yessa, he
can still twing!
I keep on making the case that
songs, and more particularly, melodies live independent of
the chords that accompany them.
Suzanne Vega, in the New York
Times’ brilliant blog Measure for Measure
described chords as the
bed the melody lies down on.
Good enough.
So, I have posted bits about found
songs, songs that have dropped
on my head, songs I “caught”,
songs I didn’t know how to play
until a piano player figured them
out for me.
To a lot of people, making up
the chords is the whole act and
art of songwriting.
I disagree vehemently.
And to the songwriter whose only
way of creating a song is “chicky
chacky” — or scratching away at
a guitar trying different combinations
of chords, I say, “Dude, that’s fine,
but you’re missing the boat if that’s
your ONLY method”.
One more reference to flog a dead
horse and I’ll tell you about the song
‘No Matter’.
One fine day Paul McCartney came up
with a tune which became ‘Yesterday’.
Everybody talks about it and for good
reason. It’s been recorded by everybody.
It has made Sir Paul a lot of money.
But more, much more than this, he caught that song and everybody knew
it. The underlying reaction of anyone
who heard it was…”Great tune! Wow,
Paul caught a big one!”
Nobody would think..”Hmmm, I wonder
how many hours of chicky chacky were
required to spontaneously and randomly
stumble on that particular combination
of chords”.
Why?
Because the song is not the chords. The
song is the melody and words, full stop.
And the chords are the basket..or the bed
pace Ms. Vega.
So, here’s a tune that only has two chords
underneath it. It’s something I used to
whistle. I sat down one day to make one
of my characteristically rough everything
in one take home demos.
I didn’t have lyrics but penned a few quick
verses — placeholder lyrics — to hold the
space until the real lyrics came along.
“Let me be your little dog ’til your big dog
comes…” Something like that.
But then I sang them, and I realized
I had done something I had wanted to do
for a long time.
Take a look at the cheezebagulositous
video I just made in which I hammer you
over the head indicating who I am singing
for.
Who I love the most.
May I philosophize for just a second?
We live in a vast mysterious universe. We
have a consciousness. More accurately,
we ARE a consciousness.
We have our loves and we have our grumbles.
They all live in the land of awareness or
otherwise. And the land of otherwise is
just the land of blocked awareness.
Being in love is feeling your awareness
and possibility expand towards the infinite
– the unreachable — in direct relation
to your interaction with the beautiful other.
That’s why it’s so wonderful to sing about
that other, and so wonderful to be in love.
The other I am singing about is infinitely
interesting, infinitely beautiful, infinitely
mysterious.
She is my lover and always will be.
She is the television of the ancients.
There was nothing better to do for
millennia (and, frankly there is nothing
better to do now) than look up to her
and love her and wonder at her mysteries.
And with the contributions of science, the
mysteries only deepen.
Friends my soul cannot expand wide enough
and my heart cannot open wide enough
to express my joy at her constant
presence in my life, but this song is
my best shot at it.
And it brought me great happiness
at a difficult time to get out my
feelings for her. So, here it is.
She never let me down. She’s
always there for me…
Cue it, Johnny!
So, get my song in a movie. What
movie? Hmmmm, how about
a cops and robbers flick? Harvey Keitel
is playing the typical dissolute bad guy,
and stops his car in the desert to take
a leak.
His adversary is riding across the badlands,
his lights off, intending to surprise Keitel
and shoot him. Meanwhile the song plays,
interspersed with images of the desert
sky…
One thing I forgot to mention about this song is that a couple of
the Barenaked Ladies have been performing it on and off
for years.
I heard of this but never saw them play it. Last year, my friend
Mia Sheard told me that there was a special night at Hugh’s Room
in Toronto called, “Songs I Wish I’d Written”.
Apparently, a group of noteworthy local recording artists assembled
to play their favorite Dylan, Townes or Cohen tune. But the Ladies
played my tune…
This is a tune I pulled out of my
throat clearing sound one time when
I encountered a girl who wanted
to sing but was imprisoned in
some strange and common
affectations.
Pretty much all the stuff you’d
expect from a girl who sang in
a church choir and in a few
talent shows.
She would sing a little lift
before every second or third
word.
Anyway, I tried describing to
her a style of singing that was
not really a style. Just pretending
to be the world’s first flute.
Letting notes roll out, simple and
unaffected and with no attempt to
colour them or spice them up in
any way.
It wasn’t working. So I said, “How
about a song called, “This is the
sound of my voice?” And wrote
a verse and a chorus right then
and there.
Nothing like having a compelling
reason to write something.
I have performed it with ‘The Angels of
Montenegro’, with Erica Buss on lead
vocal. I have another version with
Mia Sheard singing the lead vocal.
My fantasy is to hear Alison Kraus
sing it. She’s got the purity thing
down pat.
For a movie…hmmm…the obvious
choice would be a young girl coming
of age movie.
Another choice would be a purely
conceptual connection…where the
theme of the movie had to do with
authenticity, or big, consequential
choices or an artist’s quest.
One friend suggested that I had
captured a woman’s point of view.
It was a nice compliment.
I mentioned a song called ‘Haunted by
the Memory’ in a recent post. It is a
big bandish song.
It is below.
I also have a different big bandish or swing tune that
I’m developing for my Roman Republic musical. They
both fell on my head. One I just rolled with,
the other I’m deploying for my own devious ends.
There’s a funny thing about memory…and about
inspiration. Songs are like taffy. They start out
very flexible, but once they set, they’re difficult
or impossible to soften up and modify without feeling
as though you are performing an amputation.
The first song — Haunted By A Memory –
was literally received complete with full
orchestration. Unlike many of my received songs
I was singing it and not Frank Sinatra or Tony
Bennett. And it was me conducting the orchestra
in my mind.
I added strings, tweaked the horns, wrote down
the words — there are only a few — and now it
is pretty well cast in granite in my mind.
Now, if I was a chicky chacky songwriter, or if I was
one of those folks who can’t wait to get into the
studio to DO something TO or WITH the song they’ve
just written, I would no doubt have modified it and
tweaked it and re-purposed it for a clever objective.
For an obnoxious blowhard, I can be incredibly timid,
humble and circumspect when it comes to receiving
songs. I’m here with my begging bowl waiting for
further instructions.
But then I have this OTHER perfectly lovely big band tune,
that I wasn’t sure I had not ripped off somehow
unconsciously from a Dorsey Brother or Artie Shaw.
I played it for someone who would know and they didn’t
recognize it.
Phew!
So, the other night I was in the back of a car on the way
home from a crazy night in a club — King Kong Girio’s 40ieth
Birthday Bash and I extemporized — like made up, like –
a verse to it from the perspective of the people of the
late Roman Republic communicating directly to the people
of North America through a live musical in a Broadway
theatre.
I felt cheeky. Almost as though I had NO RIGHT to make
of it whatever I wanted to make of it. Probably sounds
incredibly precious, but there you have it. I’m an inspiration
piggie through and through. One of the pretentious bastards
who consider themselves to be the ‘Lord’s Secretary’.
Of myself I can do nothing and all that.
So maybe this tune — Haunted By The Memory –
existed complete up there in the ethers somewhere,
and I pulled it down like a tight spiral dropping
into the corner of the gridiron just outside the end zone
where the tight end’s hands reach and reach, and,
incredibly, snag it at the last second, just before
it hits the dirt, while the crowd shares an astonished
sharp intake of air, as the tight end rolls into the end zone
and teammates pile on in an ecstatic frenzy.
Tchyeah! Maybe it was just like that…but with
songwriting it’s more of a solo sport.
Or just maybe my head is so far up my own you know
what that I should just shut up, grab a guitar and try some
strumming patterns and see what jumps out. Or go
back to unloading trucks perhaps.
What kind of movie is this song made for? Gosh,
that’s easy. Any one of those movies with a big
ballroom scene from WWII. It could also play on
a radio or phonograph in the background while a
scene, perhaps a flashback, is being shown,
establishing character or setting.
Or, a young guy and a girl are in their car, and
pull over to the side of the road to look up
at the stars and hold each other. They leave the
lights on — why do people in movies always leave
the car lights on? — and stand there together while
the song plays softly on their car radio…
Ah well…I have a wacky theory about songs that I will
eventually lay out for public scorn and derision. And
soon enough I will play you that newish big band song
with a late Roman Republic twist…
I’m not a big fan of the New York Times’ politics, but
their songwriting blog is first rate. There are four
bloggers who are all accomplished songwriters.
Andrew Bird I found particularly articulate and thoughtful.
His songs aren’t bad either. Yes, you can read and then
listen. And then there are 100 very thoughtful…just
amazing posts by songwriters from all over hell’s
half acre. I submitted a comment but didn’t make
it through the editing and moderating gauntlet.
Boohoo!
Darrell Brown, who has written a lot of songs that
have gone on to be hits, talks about honesty, humanity
and hooks. I’m a little doubtful about his take on honesty,
but he knows hooks. I wonder if I should send him a
comment about what the blue eyed crazy lady taught
me about hooks.
Rosanne Cash has always been a standout lyricist. And
her pop changed my world in one line…. “I shot a man
in Reno just to watch him die”. The world wobbled the
first time I heard that and it’s never gone back since.
She confesses that she has not written a song in a
year. And she talks about the loss of her friend John
Stewart, her brain surgery (and I think I have problems)
and how it has affected her.
I wonder if she reads the comments? And I wonder if
the moderators would allow me to send her a link to
a song I wrote a song recently, tentatively titled
‘Lonesome Baby Blue’. Johnny Cash is mentioned
by name along with Hank Williams and Elvis.
And the Johnny Cash song title ‘Cry Cry Cry’ is
mentioned in passing.
Suzanne Vega is very forthright about her current
songwriting travails. But she warns not to use
her ideas or she’ll track you down.
And she talks about ‘Second Life’ a 3D world she
participates in. First I heard of it. I’ll probably
be neck deep next week.
Finally, somebody with the courage, the clarity
and integrity to blow the lid off a toxic scam
that has been simmering for centuries under the
crust of societal nicety.
Tchyeah!
Okay, so maybe this post is not quite so grand,
but as I’m sure you’ve heard, songwriting can be
a very personal business. Sometimes we feel a
pang of longing or despair or hope or excitement
in our lives and it ends up in a song or group of
songs.
Let me get away fast or I’ll hurl if another
songwriter says, early post-breakup,
“At least I got a song out of her”
I decided to write my magnus opus on the subject
of romantic love the illusion…a trick of the gland
squirt plus the gullible mind times endless hours
of social conditioning.
I had my thesis:
romance equals gonads times unconsciousness
I started taking notes and filled a large
notebook. I had so many lyrics that it just
about broke my heart when I had to throw so
many of them away.
I’ve been going on in recent posts about the
superior virtues of the “found” or “received”
song. You know, the bolt out of the blue song.
Jerry Garcia confessed in an interview with
Rolling Stone magazine that he had only
received two songs in his whole career of
writing songs for the Grateful Dead and
others.
This is not a found song. It’s a constructed
thing. Brick by brick.
After a summer of dreaming of some gigantic
opus, it started to come into clear relief. It
was becoming a slightly soulful, mildly
R ‘n’ B tune with wry, funny words and a core
of longing and disappointment.
Of all the songs I’ve written this one has been
accused of being a hit song most often. Other
songs may be loved, but people don’t care so
much if they’re a hit or not.
But this song I’ve been told is a hit. Ah
heck, I don’t know!
My secret desire for ‘Love is For the Birds’ –
since this blog is all about getting my songs
in a movie and, okay, a television show — is
to get it into a Bonnie Hunt film.
In fact, I want Bonnie Hunt to make a film
called ‘Love is For the Birds’. She’d be perfect
to direct it. And if she also wants to co-star as
the aunt or sister, that’s fine.
Now, Bonnie, we’ve been through this again
and again (in my mind). Nobody wants to
see a 39 year old admittedly warm and wonderful
wise and witty women star in their romantic
comedy when they can have Scarlett Johansson.
But we’ll talk about it later, okay?
Bonnie Hunt made a film called ‘Return to Me’
starring Minnie Driver (her name always reminds
me of the phrase ‘diminutive chauffeur’) and David
Duchovny. At first I didn’t get it. But my sister and
previous wife were in such a vibe that I had to tune
in and find it.
It was an offbeat comedy with shaky direction in
a few ways but such a big heart that it overcame
all barriers in its path.
I want to see Bonnie Hunt’s next film. C’mon
Bonnie, pony up! By the way, I consider
‘Return to Me’ to have been a major success.
So, Bonnie, let’s talk. How about you’re the aunt
of this young girl. She’s beautiful, but she has a
problem. Every time she falls in love, it lasts a
day. Every day she falls in love with another
man and then falls out of love in 24 hours with
no memory of having been in love.
At the same time, she’s working on a physics
degree and is totally in love with her professor,
and 84 year old man in a wheelchair.
You’re the passionate, artistic aunt. Okay, so, anyway,
Bonnie, call me.
The song ‘Haunted by the Memory’ will also be
featured.
I’ll give you two versions of ‘Love is For the Birds’
– the unfinished studio version without the backup
vocals and a snippet from a live solo version at
Fat Albert’s in Toronto.
