On January 30, 2012 Richard Brautigan would be 77 years old, had he not died 28 years ago at the same age I am today. He was born in 1935, the same year as my father, and I’ve often marveled that two men of the exact same era could have such different experiences and lives. But the world is a giant ball so we’re on the same side after all.

Somehow many years ago I acquired a cassette dupe of his Listening to Richard Brautigan record, and was surprised by the sound of Brautigan’s voice, an almost cartoonish sound that was much different from the one I had imagined narrating all those books of his I’d read. It was deep yet innocent, awkward almost, like a child inside a large bear costume unicycling mischievously and wrecklessly through a formal ballroom dinner party. Once I was over the shock, I enjoyed it and even found a strange comfort in it.

And so I began to write this song. But years passed and I’d revisit it now and again, changing something here, adding something there, waiting for the right context for it before I committed to finishing it. Then earlier this month, I heard about a Brautigan Book Club that had formed with the aim of reading a novel and gathering for a performance and other “Brautigan-inspired activities” each month. As they say in their manifesto, “Brautigan – through his writing and because of his mythic quality – makes a fantastic starting point for creative endeavors.”

Well, yes indeed. Maybe I’ll record a Brautigan-inspired song each month for the rest of the year, based on each month’s selection by the book club. Maybe I will….

LISTENING TO RICHARD BRAUTIGAN

He wrote mini-poems about life’s miniature things
Read them in a voice not unlike hippos sprouting wings
You could almost feel devout again
Listening to Richard Brautigan

He lived way out west between the hippies and the beats
He was really tall so I assume he had big feets
He was up & out and down & in
And his name was Richard Brautigan

Can you see the sea a tidal wave of pumpkins rollin’
Can you feel the way her body looks and write it down
Were the deeds done and then done again as your life is done
Can you burn a song and as it melts describe the sound

He would be your catfish friend and drive sad thoughts away
Hitchhike across Galilee in an old Model A
Watch her long blonde beauty play with gentle glass and things
Shadows of the wild birds of heaven and their black wings

“God lives like music in the skin,
And sounds like a sunshine harpsichord.”

He died in Bolinas back in 1984
He escaped steel spiderwebs by blowing down the door
Kisses in a vase at dawn again
Save them all for Richard Brautigan

Can you see the sea a tidal wave of pumpkins rollin’
Can you feel the way her body looks and write it down
Were the deeds done and then done again as your life is done
Can you burn a song and as it melts describe the sound

My Father’s almost Zenlike ability to inhabit fractions of time was one of the things that made him truly amazing. ~ Ianthe Brautigan

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Oy, another month goes quickly by. I’ve been very busy working on some other musical projects lately – most notably composing music for a murder mystery musical by the ultra-talented Joey Madia – and so I have neglected this space once again. I promise to get better.

In the meantime, there’s a song and a video up there that I made for the world-traveling Little Red Ball…I hope you enjoy it!

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You think that people would have had enough of silly love songs. I’ve never particularly been a fan. I mean sure, they’re very nice and everything, but after a while it all sounds the same, and besides, there are plenty of other topics to explore that might offer something new to think about, eh? Meh, I’m a heartless old fool…but it wasn’t always this way. 

Years ago, it seemed all I ever wrote were songs about love or, more often than not, unrequited love. Eventually, one grows weary of the usual cheerful clichés, or becomes tired of one’s own whining. And when I realized that the story of the songwriter whose girlfriend asked why he hadn’t written a song about her, and he replied “Because you haven’t left me yet,” hit so horrifyingly close to home, I vowed no more silly love songs. At least not of the standard kind, as much as I could help it, which was a lot.

So that’s why, my friends, you won’t find very many love songs on this site. But, I was recently reminded of an old one – writ some 25 years ago, no lie – and I decided to record it as there was a call for songs of this nature for a certain multimedia project I had happened upon. Naturally, I didn’t finish it up in time to submit it, in fact I’ve only just now finished recording and mixing it so it is quite very hot off the presses as they say, and I would like instead to wrap it in a bow, place it in your lap and watch your face as you open it. Maybe it will remind you of those early days when love can be frightening and uncertain, yet you know nothing in the world is better.

Carry on, then….

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If Elvis is everywhere, it stands to reason that he could be the dancing guest making a mess in your kitchen, or the burglar who does a little jig for your cats as he sneaks around pilfering your house…or even an angel of death come hovering and doing the Twist above your bed while beckoning you into the great hereafter. All things are possible, and it’s certain that it would be quite the joy to witness…even if it’s not the exact thing that you’d prefer.

I’ve had visions of re-recording this song for years now, and have finally decided that I’ll probably never get around to it, so here it is ripped straight from 2002′s homemade Jersey Shoreline CD. Thanks to Kate for clapping along as the tape rolled, and for putting up with the cacophony of my attempts at emulating acoustic-era Modern Lovers-styled backing vocals.

The kitchen is a wonderful place to dance by the way, and truthfully I would never even consider kicking someone out of the house for dancing there. Unless they were a mime.

A LITTLE LIKE ELVIS

You’re a little like Elvis
The way you dance around my room
Erasing all of my chalk lines
Like a whirling kind of
Swirling kind of magic magic broom
And it’s true that i never read the paper
And i never called your home
And i never did a single thing
That you could call your own

But you’re dancing like Elvis in my house
And i feel like putting you out
But the spectacle’s too beautiful
And lucky lucky lucky lucky me

You’re a little like Elvis
Dressed in black and looking good
Creeping around from room to room
Like you’ve got something
That’s not something
That you know you should
And it’s true that my name is Cosimodo [aka Cosmo the cat]
And my brother’s name is Drake [aka The Drake, feline as well]
And it doesn’t matter what you say
Or what you plan to take

‘Cause you’re dancing like Elvis in my house
And i feel like putting you out
But the spectacle’s too beautiful
And lucky lucky lucky lucky me

You’re a little like Elvis
With your halo and your wings
Twisting over my bed
Instead of taking my old
Aching life on up to other things
And it’s true that i hope that you’re an angel
And i also hope you’re not
And i hope that you’re not taking me
To somewhere that’s too hot

‘Cause you’re dancing like Elvis in my house
And i feel like putting you out
But the spectacle’s too beautiful
And lucky lucky lucky lucky me

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There’s a nice little river beach near our house. I was down there not long ago, and the Free Design came shuffling on my iPod, perfectly syncing with the wind and the water and the whole feel of the place. Thank you, Jeffrey Booth, for making sure I knew about them.

Here’s my attempt at one of those types of songs, though certainly it doesn’t land in the same golden circle. Hopefully its soft psychedelia will inspire you to get out in the air and breathe a little bit this week. It’s good for you!

I was well-pleased with the instrumentation on this one, but as usual the vocals didn’t quite sit exactly as I wanted. Perhaps having two pairs of really good singers – two brothers and two sisters like the Free Design – might help this song reach its full potential. Any takers?

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I was very excited when my friend Ellen Luckett Baker asked me to do the music for the trailer of her new book 1, 2, 3 Sew. She’s amazingly talented and imaginative, and discusses really cool crafty things at her blog, The Long Thread. Plus, we like a lot of the same kinds of music, so I knew it would be a fun project.

The book trailer is above, as is the song in mp3 format that you can download and keep in your sewing basket for quick access whenever you need accompaniment for your spontaneous dancing. Ellen’s doing a giveaway of her book, but hurry as you’ll need to enter by this Saturday, June 18. If you run with a sewing crowd, please feel free to share this information (and the video!) wherever you feel appropriate.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention to you that I absolutely love doing this sort of thing, so if you’ve got a project that needs music – whether whimsical, sinister, or sedate – please contact me. I am, after all, your man (as Leonard would say).

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Well, here’s another month that’s really gotten away from me. I’m working on a few musical projects, but nothing that’s really at the let me show it to you stage, so the song this month is one I did to accompany a video for a client.

I’ll be back with more songs in May!

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I write in order to hear; never do I hear and then write what I hear. Inspiration is not a special occasion.
~ John Cage (from Silence)

I’ve been playing with my computer lately, specifically that thing called MIDI, and I was having fun writing out little parts for piano and then assigning them to other instruments – a bagpipe, for instance – just to see what it would sound like. Well, this got me thinking it might be fun to try to piece together a song by writing and recording the parts on one instrument and then assigning the part to another, and then try to piece something somewhat coherent out of it all.

That’s what we have this month. What sounds like a piano was actually a part written for drums and then assigned to a ukelele software instrument. Drum parts were created originally as piano or bass parts, etc. Weird sounds may have begun life as saxophones or accordions or even banjos.

It’s just an experiment, but it was fun.

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So my friend Steven Wilson of the mighty Plasticsoul informed me about this thing called February Album Writing Month (FAWM) which issues the challenge of writing and recording 14 songs in the 28 days of February. I love this kind of stuff, I assume, because I’m addicted to starting things I never finish.

Well this time I did finish (just barely), despite birthdays and weddings and travels to the other side of the country, and I’m happy to let you have the proceedings as one nice bundled up album of demolicious noise as a completely free download (you don’t even have to give me your email address)!

Download Demolicious Man [0211] (link takes you to my Bandcamp page)

Now, this is by no means an official album, but we can pretend it is if you like. While many of the songs were little more than sketches, a few turned out quite well considering the time constraints. I hope you’ll enjoy it….

If you’re interested, here’s the Marble Tea FAWM page.

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…and sometimes the feeling prevails upon ‘em so hard, beloved, that they just have to mount up on the stage and get to giggin’ with the band. ~ Cub Koda (Kings of the Party)

It’s been a while since I gushed about Brian Eno here, so the time seems about right.

They say that most songwriters have about three songs in them that they re-write over and over again in various incarnations and attire. This is probably true in most cases, and certainly true in many. Whether or not it’s true for Mr. Eno I’ll reserve saying, but I would like to propose that he basically has three styles of songs: the generally ambient instrumental works, the self-described idiot-energy bursts of spastic euphoria, and the nearly canticle vocal works that feel to me like caravans to a distant and often intangible world.

While this last style of song is a far step from Rachmaninov, it takes me to a similar place in a more modern manner. Indeed, certain songs of Eno’s feel to me like electronic hymns, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing to have in this world, whether secular or spiritual.

So yes, I became inspired recently to try my own hand at writing something hymnal yet contemporary, something that acknowledged my perception of the All That Is and gave it its due gratitude. Something reverent yet upbeat, that still allowed me to play my gnat guitar, which appears about midway through this song. Yes, Charlotte…gnats are beautiful too.

Nodding musically to Eno, and mangling the writings of Evelyn Underhill, the following emerged and I hope you enjoy it (the mp3 is at the top of this page):

A GREAT MOVING WAVE OF BLISS

A great moving wave of bliss
Down the sheer and fathomless abyss
Of Being pours….

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The blizzard that just hit New Jersey was a day late, but it wasn’t a dollar short, that’s for sure. As friends in the South rejoiced at snow on Christmas Day, we on the Shore had to wait until the day after to get ours…and it walloped us good!

I spent that shimmery Sunday in the backyard studio, watching the snow fall and recording a little soundtrack for it. As the day and evening progressed, so did the intensity of the storm, a blizzard now. Waking Monday morning to a day full of shoveling, I wasn’t able to get back into the studio until today, so high were the snow dunes across our patio. The town is still a wreck from the downpour, but the sky is clear and the sweater KC knitted for me is warm.

I hope you have the chance to listen to this song as you watch snow falling outside your window. If not, I hope you’ll close your eyes and imagine it that way, for that is its sole intent. Is it really true that no two snowflakes are alike?

Happy New Year to you, and may your days be merry and bright!

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I’m not a scientist, Jim. I don’t even play one on TV. But I felt turkey was getting all the blame for Thanksgiving day sleepiness and wanted to set the record, somewhat at least, straight. This month’s song explains my understanding of how it works, even if it inadvertently conjures a bit of Adam Sandler.

Happy Thanksgiving! And much respect to all my vegan and vegetarians friends…

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