Tuesday, January 29, 2008

St. Genevieve the Brave

This one was written in 2005 and marked the end of a 10-year dry spell. St. Genevieve is the name of the Catholic patron saint of Paris who saved the city from famine by delivering a shipload of bread. My fellow Texans might also recognize that St. Genevieve is a local Hill Country winery. And there is a third possibility.

I hope the song is open to all three.

St. Genevieve the Brave

the end of december cuts like a dagger
let's stagger on home-- this party is blown.
come on, now, stephen, the streetlights aren't even aglow anymore,
what should we care for?

come again, st. genevieve the brave,
lend an ear to the ones that you would save


she's straight as an arrow, has ice in her marrow
and always alone-- no need for a phone.
each blessed evening curled up with her reading- the same as before
no knock on the door

come again, st. genevieve the brave,
lend an ear to the ones that you would save.


you're falling through the atmosphere-
the shake, the break, the shattering sound--
and now there's nothing left to fear,
you're merging with the fire and the light surrounds

jump in the van, man, we're home by eleven
and no one will know-- I've done this before.
you'll never believe her, you've just got to see her,
slip her a ten and you're twenty again.

come to me, st. genevieve relieve
all the fears of one who can't believe

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Sally Went Down

Keeping with the double theme of Snackplate and songs that flew through the production line...


In August 1989, about a year after graduation from UT, a number of my buds converged on ye olde heimatstadt Denton for a couple of weeks of hanging out and catching up. I was back from the Carolinas, Mookie came in from Chicago, and Snackplate was back from a year at the University of Freiburg in West Germany. "So," I asked him at one of many backyard cookouts held in that short period, "Is there any chance that Germany will be reunited?"

Man," he answered, "They're not even dreaming about it."

Note: I saw recently that in January 1989 East Germany's President Hohnecker stated that the Berlin Wall would still be standing "a hundred years from now.)

Imagine our surprise when, on November 9, the wall came down. It was a world-shaking event, and I decided to commemorate it with a song and decided that the whole thing had to be completed that day. Thus was "Sally Went Down" born, for better or for worse.

It's a simple song and fairly rocking, so the Dentones ALWAYS begin their gigs with it.

Another component: Someone I had known in high school had actually gone to Berlin to live for a while. I think she had lived a bit fast there and had been left a little empty by the experience.


Sally Went Down

sally went down where the east meets west
with an open heart and a party dress
and sheened around* forever and a day
she never really meant to sin
but you don't have to mean in west berlin
it seems it's always turning out that way
chorus 1

oh, oh, let the ocean come
oh, oh, let the ocean come
oh, oh, let the ocean come
oh, oh, let the ocean come

she met a man named peter stein
he was kind of dumb but looked real fine
and made her feel like she was something else
and there by the gate of brandenburg
he said he would do anything for her
you know-- some things you just can't do yourself

chorus 1
by and by the days went by
like one long blur for mrs. stein
and every night the neighbors heard her say--
she said, "move it out, move it in
a pink carnation and a drop of gin,
I wish my life could always be this way"
sally went down where the east meets west
with an open heart and a party dress
and sheened* around forever and a day

she never really meant to sin
but you don't have to mean in west berlin
it seems it's always turning out that way


could someone take this bitter cup away
could someone take this bitter cup away
could someone take this bitter cup away
could someone take this bitter cup away

note:::: * To "sheen" is to promote oneself in a way that has to do with personal status or pleasure, especially when one thinks one is doing so surreptitiously but there is at least one other person who is aware and is possibly slightly disapproving or embarrassed. I think Snackplate coined the term, though he would never define it for me. I hope I got it right!

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Swamp Angel

This first one is from the summer of 1990 when I was living on LaFayette in central Austin with my brother. Man, those were different days. ("Lost Austin" would be a great thing to riff on in the world o' blogging.) I had just moved back to Austin and had formed a band with Pod, Big A, and Snackplate. At that time we were going by the name Sunrise Circus.

One warm morning, I called Snackplate to tell him I had come up with some chords for a new song that I wanted to show him. He lived just around the corner on Robinson with his girlfriend Seabeast, so I figured he'd say cool and I'd just pop over there to show him the song, but he was fairly insistent that it have lyrics and a melody first. So I hung up the phone and sat down with an acoustic and cranked out the first two verses and the chorus of "Swamp Angel". Sometimes it is easy to see why the Ancient Greeks and others came up with the concept of an external Muse. 3/4 of this song's lyrical content was done within minutes. The final verse, by contrast, took months to figure out.
Swamp Angel

Some forgetful afternoon
in the quiet of winter
I fumble with my sherry glass
and let my thoughts roll by.
There beside the fire
full of sleep and full of age
barely holding up my head
I look into the flames

chorus

it's late, late summertime again
and I can hear the Angel calling
underneath the August moon
like the rolling thunder
ooo, I'm shaken from my sleep
how can I believe in anything
when everything's on end


Rising up above the reeds
of the sunken island
four wings covering her eyes
and two her feet,
in rattling anger
belching flames from a long black throat
she turns her face against the town
sleeping Charleston

(chorus)

Molly went away that day.
I guess she crossed the Jordan.
Ten years spent by my side,
she made me feel like a man.
She was in the kitchen
late at night when the storm began.
The crystal shattered on the floor;
the iron pierced her side.



Information on the historical "Swamp Angel": http://www.awod.com/gallery/probono/cwchas/swamp.html

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Crossing the Rubicon

Testing...one...two...Testing.... Is this thing on?

Okay. Here goes. After a bit of gentle nudging from my long-time bud Bookhart to begin a blog, here I am staring at a screen. Kinda like work.

Not sure how to start exactly. Maybe the creative juices will start flowing eventually, but for now I think I'll begin this new exercise in self-indulgence by posting lyrics to some of the songs I have written over the years.