Song A Week 2016 - My Heart and My Head (Reboot) - February 14, 2016

The song a week blog I did in 2012 provided a catalyst at the time to write some new songs.  I was playing a lot of music with Rachelle Reath, but I didn't have a regular band so to speak and wasn't gigging much.  Maybe that's the reason a bunch of those songs just fell off the radar.  Or maybe they just sucked. Time will tell.  Whatever, this is one of those songs.  

Written in 2012, Rachelle and I recorded it for the blog in 2012 and we performed it maybe two or three times.  I've changed the feel, put it in a different key, and tweaked one of those lyrics.  The particular line I changed had been a thorn in the side.....one of those lines that comes quickly, is an easy rhyme, and is sort of like a punch line.....but ultimately is weak.  Now it's better.

So here it is....Happy Valentine's Day.

My Heart and My Head 

words and music by David P. Smith

My heart pumps blood

through my scrambled veins

My heart is like a machine

machines don't feel pain

My heart

my heart 

my heart

and my head

My head is a vessel of bone

it contains my brain

My brain is like a machine

machines don't feel pain

Machines don't dream

they don't hope or aspire

They just do their jobs

that's how they're wired

My head

my head

my head

and my heart

My heart is not a metaphor

for courage, strength, or love

so please do not speak of these things

you know not what you speak of

My heart is a muscle

a muscle that is strong

It is the pulse it is the engine

to my life and to my song

My heart

my heart 

my heart

oh my heart

My heart

my heart 

my heart

oh my heart

Song A Week 2016 - Why Don't You Do Right - January 24, 2016

Not so long ago after I left home, let's say circa 1980, I went through my parents' records and recorded to cassette anything that seemed remotely interesting.  One song I recorded - from Reader's Digest Million Dollar Memories - was Peggy Lee's version of Why Don't You Do Right with the Benny Goodman Orchestra. Loved that shit.

Fast forward about 30 years, Sarah Rhude and I were talking potential collaborations and Dan Weisenberger is spinning the vinyl at a swinging post-gig loft party.  One slab of vinyl was Lil Green's dynamite original take of the song, a favourite of Sarah's.  Bingo! There's our collaboration.

Well not quite Bingo yet. Fast forward another couple of years to the here and now.  A great benefit of ye olde blog is it acts both as a catalyst and provides purpose to get together with friends and make music. Rhudey and I are chatting about playing some music together, my brain snaps into blog production mode;  Rachelle Reath and I have been talking about playing and have a long history of collaborating - in The Euphorians, as a duo, and numerous occasions the last time I was song-a-week-ing........OK, this time:  Bingo!  For real.  Rhudey, Rachelle, and me.   Here's our version of Why Don't You Do Right, recorded in Rachelle's living room.

Why Don't You Do Right is generally accepted as a reworking of the song Weed Smoker's Dream, recorded in 1936 by The Harlem Hamfats and credited to piano player Joe McCoy.  There is some dispute over that credit as there is over the writing credit of Why Don't You Do Right.  While official credit is given to McCoy for re-working the song into a classic woman's blues number, others see the song as thematically and narratively distinct and believe Lil Green penned her own version. The Lil Green recording of the song was one of Peggy Lee's favourite records.  Here she is.....Lil Green!

In a 1984 interview Peggy Lee said "I was and am a fan of Lil Green, a great old blues singer, and Lil recorded it.  I used to play that record over and over in my dressing room, which was next door to Benny.  Finally he said, ' You obviously like that song.'  I said, 'Oh, I love it.' He said 'Would you like me to have arrangement made of it?' I said 'I'd love that,' and he did."   Here's Peggy Lee live with the Benny Goodman Orchestra.  

And here's a hipper take of it recorded later....Peggy Lee with Dave Barbour and his Band

To write this blog, I referenced Wikipedia and a fascinating article about Peggy Lee written by Ivan Santiago-Mercado.  You can check that article out here The Peggy Lee Bio-Discography And Videography: Observations About The Song "Why Don't You Do Right?"  

And in closing.....Weed Smoker's Dream - Harlem Hamfats

Song A Week 2016 - #1! - Blues In The Bottle

In 2012 I attempted to do a song a week blogpost.  I didn't quite make it, weeks were missed as the year unfolded, especially towards the end.  Still, it was ultimately fruitful in that the construct spurred me to play more music and create a body of work.  I did a fair amount of research on the cover songs I did and found out some interesting stuff, I think some of the posts were a good read, some of the songs were good performances, and most importantly it was a catalyst for collaborating with other musicians and artists who I admire and love to play with - Rachelle Reath, Marek Tyler, Emily Goodenough, Eric Gallipo, David "The Great Giffoni" Gifford, Grayson Walker, Jeanne Tolmie, Troy "Big Bubba" Cook.   It was very cool to track the hits on the blog, where they came from in the world, which posts were most popular, and I cultivated a YouTube presence which was turning out to be the legacy of the blog after it ended.  

Then the weird Google shit hit the fan.  My account was screwed around with and the videos, though they were still on YouTube, would not come up in a search. It was pretty much impossible to get them to come up, even with very specific searches.....and it still is.  This year my wife Betty-Ann has endeavoured to re-post the blogs, an attempt to fan the dying embers, an act I am grateful for.  At the same time it begs the question....why not get off your ass and do it again.   
                      

 Dum-Dum.             Dingaling.             Ding Dong. 

I'm running late!  It's goddam January 12th!  What the fuck.  Here's the first one.  When I first picked up the accordion one of my prime influences was the Holy Modal Rounders. Their irreverent, humourous, raw approach to old folk and hillbilly music gave me the license to have a go.  Here's a song I've known for years but never played until a couple of weeks ago. Blues In The Bottle.

Here's the whole Holy Modal Rounders album that I was listening to at the time on a worn out cassette....first song is Blues In The Bottle

I haven't done exhaustive research, but I believe this is the original version of the song, recorded by Prince Albert Hunt's Texas Ramblers  in 1928.  It was also recorded, and is perhaps better known, by the great Lightnin' Hopkins.  I would venture a guess that The Rounders were listening to this version.

Here's me doing the Holy Modal Rounders' Same Old Man last time I did this song a week biz.

And this is The Dogbreath Brothers channeling the Holy Modal Rounders Black-Eyed Suzy.....beer-fuelled and live to 4-track cassette yo. (Click link below the pic)

click here: BLACK-EYED SUZY - THE DOGBREATH BROTHERS

The Good Mule - December 14, 2012

Couple of weeks ago I was contacted by Rod Matheson who has embarked on a film-blog project called  Everyday Music - 1000 Musicians, 1000 Songs, 1000 Days. Rod was going to be in Victoria filming musical acts for his blog and thanks to Nick Lyons acting as a matchmaker, I was fortunate to be one of the people included.  I got together with Rachelle Reath and Marek Tyler and we laid down this version of The Good Mule.  This song falls squarely into the group of songs I have written which I have labelled Middle Age Laments, or alternatively, Mope Pop.  A year and a half ago we recorded a really nice version of it with the superfun/superimpractical 7-piece band The Euphorians and I am happy with the way it has translated into the 3-piece.  Thanks Rod, Nick, Rachelle, and Marek.

click here to hear: THE GOOD MULE - THE EUPHORIANS

The Good Mule

The crazy adventure

was less adventure, more ordeal

was less crazy than it was senseless

mundane and uneventful

I could scratch a grain of truth

from the hard scrabble of the day

it's my nature to perservere

I'm a good mule

And suddenly

I was one degree fatter

suddenly

I was one degree sadder

suddenly

I was closer to the dirt

suddenly

I was travelling beneath the earth

and suddenly

I was flying in the sky

where the birds in heaven could hear my sad cries

The road to ordinary

is one paved with pavement

no medals are awarded

for getting out of bed

and nobody clapped

when I flapped my tongue

And suddenly

I was silent and slobbery

a victim

of incremental robbery

suddenly 

my tongue fell out on the ground

and suddenly there was no more sound

On Top Of Old Smokey - October 27, 2012

If you're like me, the On Top Of Old Smokey you grew up with was a goofy bastardized campfire song.  Maybe in the back of my mind I knew there was a real song, maybe saw it in the track listing on a Burl Ives album or something, maybe the plaintive folk melody was lodged in my consciousness like a fish hook....but what I knew was this:

On top of spaghetti all covered with cheese

I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed

It rolled off the table and onto the floor

then my poor meatball rolled out of the door

It rolled through the garden and under a bush

then my poor meatball was covered with mush

Early next summer that very same bush

was covered in meatballs, meatballs and mush

Yah I know.....pretty profound shit.  Hilarious. A real side-splitter.  A few years ago I received as a gift from my wife and daughter some previously unreleased Hank Williams radio recordings - The Mother`s Best Sessions.  More about the Mother`s Best story later.  There is a complete 15 CD box set of this material, while the release I have is 3 CD`s that distills the seventy-two 15 minute shows into an excellent overview.  There are the hits, sometimes just written or recently recorded, unexpected covers like Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain and Cherokee Boogie, a whole load of gospel with lots of harmonies from The Drifting Cowboys, and a version of On Top of Old Smokey that was a revelation to me.  I never knew what a heartbreaking lament it was - but I guess Hank did. Check it out

In the intro, Hank refers to a it being one of the "top pop tunes in the nation."  This is likely a reference to the version by The Weavers, an abysmal piece of shit I couldn't bring myself to post here even in the interests of history.

A couple of weeks ago I stayed up too late drinking beer, playing piano and singing with Jeanne Tolmie, and On Top Of Old Smokey was one of the songs we played.  It got me all fired up about the song (again) and Saturday afternoon, Rachelle Reath and Jeanne came over and we worked out a version of it....here it is.  

The lyrics we sang are Hank's version (which differs to many versions in the second verse) with a few of our own extras and twists.

On Top Of Old Smokey - Traditional

On top of Old Smokey

all covered with snow

I lost my true lover

from courtin' too slow

On top of Old Smokey

I went there to weep

for a false-hearted lover

is worse than a thief

A thief he will rob you

and take what you've saved

But a false-hearted lover

will lay you in the grave

The grave will decay you 

and turn you to dust

The price you will always pay

when you misplace your trust

They'll hug you and kiss you

and tell you more lies 

than crossties on a railroad

or stars in the sky

On top of Old Smokey

Old Smokey so high

where the birds up in heaven

can hear my sad cries

On top of Old Smokey

all covered with snow

I lost my true lover

from courtin' too slow

Mothers Best Sessions

The Mother's Best shows were broadcast live between 7:15 and 7:30 a.m. on WSM out of Nashville, Tennessee and Hank was paid $100 a week for recording the shows that usually consisted of one country song, one instrumental and a gospel song to close the show. During the 15 minute show Hank and the announcer Louie Buck would pitch the flour in between Hank's songs and Hank even wrote a theme song for the show.

"I love to have that gal around
Her biscuits are so nice and brown
Her pies and cakes beat all the rest
Cause she makes them all with Mother's Best"

Back in those days if a radio show wasn't actually live, it was recorded live onto a 16 inch acetate and that's what the Mother's Best sessions are.  Hank and the Drifting Cowboys had a grueling touring schedule.  All the travel was by car and adding to the grind was the obligation of Opry regulars to return to Nashville most weekends, no matter where they were, to perform. The transcriptions gave WSM and its listeners a daily dose of the Lovesick Blues Boy, just as though he was there right in studio.  These recordings have a compelling immediacy and show off the relaxed musicianship and professionalism of a seasoned touring band and their dynamic leader.

At some point in history, WSM was purging its vaults and the Mother's Best acetates were destined to be dumped.  WSM employee and huge Hank fan Les Leverett recognized their value and saved them from oblivion.  What followed was years of legal battles between the estate of Hank Williams in the persons of Jett Williams and Hank Jr and "other parties"...yeah, I can't seem to find out on the internet exactly who.  While Leverett had given the acetates to Jett Williams (who had gone through a long legal battle to prove she was Hank's daughter)  a copy had also gone to someone else, possibly Drifting Cowboys bass player Hilious Butrum.  

Whatever the murky details are, the end result is an amazing musical document.  A relaxed Hank, joking  and talking, a band on top of its game, a group of musicians delving into their extensive catalogue.  A real piece of country music history.  After researching this blog, I'm feeling like I'm going to have to get the 15 CD set, if only to hear Hank's venereal disease PSA.  "Stars In Her Eyes" is a 14 minute soap opera than Hank sings and recites, interspersed with running remarks from woman who portrays an unfaithful wife who contracts syphilis. 

Going Away Party - What Week Is This!

Goin" Away Party

I've been busy. Here's a great song penned by Cindy Walker.  Thanks to Brad Johnson, Calvin Dick, Eric Gallipo,  and Rachelle Reath.

And here's an excellent reading by Marshall 

Chapman 

Horseleg Swastikas - Silver Jews Cover - July 8, 2012

I had been staying at my friend Dave Gowans' place, we were milling around before I departed to catch the ferry, and he put on the Silver Jews  album Bright Flight.  I was struck by the vision and imagery of David Berman's writing and his startlingly original wordplay and became an instant convert. I've been a serious fan since, accumulating the entire discography and covering a couple of songs....this one, and from the album American Water, the song Random Rules which we recorded  and released on my CD Mantennae.  The sweet girl vox featuring Rachelle Reath and Megan Boddy, plus percussive touches, were added later by DJ Hairwolf at The Palace Of The Golden Dragon.  

CLICK HERE to listen to our version of RANDOM RULES recorded by Scott Bennett live in the living room at Walnut 

Street. 

Here my version of the song

Horseleg Swastikas - David Berman

Drunk on a couch in Nashville

in a duplex near the reservoir

every single thought is like a punch in the face

I'm like a rabbit freezing on a star

On the wrong side of Sunday morning

shattered in a terrible light

working for a bankrupt circus 

on the wrong side of Saturday night

And I wanna be like water if I can

'Cause water doesn't give a damn

water doesn't give a damn

Chased by a floating hatchet

you can't just shoot your way out and go

I could tell you things about this wallpaper

that you never ever wanna know

There's an altar in the valley

for thing in themselves as they are

and the triumph of the obstacle

and horseleg swastikas

And I wanna take a ride on the back of a sunbird

up into the highest number

up into the highest number

And I wanna be like water if I can

'Cause water doesn't give a damn

water doesn't give a damn

If you haven't heard the original, check it out!

The Blog Faltered - To The Ghosts - June 13, 2012

The blog faltered.  I failed to adhere to the construct. There was no song last week.  It was a busy week, but the real problem was my wife was away and all order, routine, and structure crumbled.  Subsisting on all meat pizzas, salt & pepper squid, and salisbury steaks; unclothed, unshaved, guzzling red wine by the box, subscribed to the 24 hour Charlie Sheen channel, marathon phone sex with a Moldavian heiress, filth, squalor, freestyle farting.  I meant to do the blog one night, but instead drank a bottle of wine and played sad songs for 3 hours.  There were two rehearsals during the week for the show we had with Cloudsplitter and  I recorded this song at the end of one of them....I had the potential to do the blog last week but never did!

Our friend Clifford Doerksen died an untimely and tragic death in December 2010 and flying home from the memorial service in February 2011 I composed this song, in its entirety, in my head.  When I got home I typed it up and promptly forgot about it for 6 months, until I stumbled on it again and started working on it.  Realizing the melodies I was coming up with referenced The Carpenters' Top Of The World, I checked out those chord progressions and messed around with them. I believe this is the kind of secret songwriting shit I'm not supposed to reveal.

Amongst many other things, Clifford was a brilliant, hilarious, and ruthless writer and reviewer. Here's an article remembering him that also contains many links to his writing:  

click here: CLIFFORD

And here it is, To The Ghosts, to Clifford....

with Rachelle Reath - violin and backup vox,
Emily Goodenough - viola
Marek Tyler - drums 

To The Ghosts

His heart lay panting on the floor

his mind just walked out the back door

into the winter's night

to fight the good fight

if he could still distinguish wrong from right

Did someone step on a crack and break his back

did someone say give up, turn back

The stolen years

will not be restored by our tears

and our memories will fade from grey to black

Whether we say yay or nay

the night is followed by the day

To the departed and their ghosts

we raise one too many toasts

then stumble numbly on our way

Skeleton - May 23, 2012

Though I wrote this song about a year ago,  it still feels a little fresh and new, maybe because I haven't performed it live a zillion times. This version of it is recorded with Rachelle Reath on violin, Emily Goodenough on cello, and Marek Tyler on the drums. We have been rehearsing for our first show in this configuration June 9 at The Fort St. Cafe with Vancouver band Cloudsplitter.  Emily just learned the song tonight, so kudos to Emily I say.  Anyone got a name for this sweet combo? Bring it on - let the blog comments rain down.

Here we are playing the song

Skeleton - David P. Smith

The skeleton in my closet he knows how to party

down by the river amongst the debris

There we discuss alien conspiracies

trailer park lesbians, UFC

How it feels to see your reflection in a glass of whiskey

Whiskey rivers swum like public pool lengths

dreamlessly sinking in quicksand beds

Unresolved nights became resolute dawns

the angry sparrows twittered as the sun grew strong

Days begun orange, then turned to blue

with periods of brown forecast for the afternoon

Fat robins feast on freshly turned worms

starlings flit and swoop like sci-fi insect swarms

A little brown bird lies still on the street

near the passenger door to the left of my feet

Maybe, maybe, maybe he's asleep

The skeleton in my closet likes to go out on the town

likes to paint it red, he really likes to get down

Sometimes he gets so down I find him crawling around

And I say

if you piss in the carburetor, the car will stall

if you piss on the temple floor, the walls will fall

you can piss your pants, buddy it's your call

You can do what you want, I'll pick you up when you fall

The digital satellite unit casts a hideous shadow on our house

while I recline on the sofa in the costume of a louse

While on the TV, weeping women flee

the good doctor eats a live chimpanzee

and the air is alive with fleas' disease

The skeleton in my closet pulls me aside

he says 

brother got a minute, I need to confide

you see, my dreams all cower like scared cats in the rain

and I don't mind feeling numb, it means I don't feel pain

but it scares me being numb, in case I don't feel again

It was a sad good-bye to the jugglers and clowns

went working for the man in a jackhammer town

Now I have a daughter and I have a wife

and this is the foundation on which I build my life

The skeleton in my closet says he's feeling tired

says it's hard to care, says he feels uninspired

And I say

put your pants on one leg at a time

open the curtains and let the sun shine

every minute in the world a hundred ten people are dying

Sing a song, stop crying

Sing a song, stop crying

you 

Lost Patterns - Hazel Dickens - with Rachelle Reath - April 2, 2012

In my 20's, when I was first immersing myself in country music, a friend said to me "you've gotta hear this album by this lady Hazel Dickens....Hard Hittin' Songs for Hard Hit People."  Being that the dark and sad side of C&W was one of the things that really drew me to the music, the title alone was enough to perk my interest.  Dutifully I turned up a few days later with my blank cassette tape and recorded the album.  What an album.   Hazel has an expressive, powerful, old school Appalachian singer's voice, her music is a unique blend of bluegrass and country and western, and this album covers a lot of ground - from a kid gunned down robbing a liquor store (Merle Haggard's Out Among The Stars), to being old and lonely (Calloused Hands), or plain being broke (Busted).  Over the years I think I've learned about half the songs on this record.  It had a major influence on me and in fact, gave me the title of one of the first songs I wrote - The Hard Hit Song, recorded by The Dogbreath Brothers. 

Okay, here's a story.  Once when Carolyn Mark played The Calgary Folk Festival, Hazel was on the program too.  Carolyn brought me back this polaroid of Hazel.  It's so folk festival, gotta be one of those workshops they throw together....Hazel with a cabassa....come on!  Last April, the morning after a show I played which Carolyn had attended, we ended up jamming and sang the Hazel song Lost Patterns.  Later that day Carolyn found out Hazel had died the night before.  Damn, this is making me sad. 

I've always thought this was a great song.  The combination of imagery, emotion, and narrative makes it compelling. Recently,  Rachelle Reath and I arranged the song as a duet and have started to perform it together.  Lost Patterns tells the story of a couple who's relationship crumbles under everyday pressures - bills, unemployment.......hard to say exactly, but the chorus tag kind of sums it up - "with all the wearing and the tearing, the caring just walks right out the door."  Here's us performing the song. 

Hazel Dickens was many things.  A strong honest songwriter, a great interpreter of songs, a pioneer in terms of women playing bluegrass music, and a political activist, both for workers (specifically coal miner's) and women.  Here's a youtube bio of Hazel...

Lost Patterns - Hazel Dickens

The worn out linoleum has lost its pattern on the kitchen floor

And the woman who once scrubbed it has turned around and walked right out the door

The oilcloth on the table she wiped so many times it's almost gone

And the elbows leaning on it, held the head of a man who drank alone

Every now and then his empty can would shatter the silence of the room

As it landed on her pretty face still smiling from a broken picture frame

Lately since she left him he just sits at the kitchen table drinking beer

Staring at that worn linoleum, trying to trace the lost patterns in his tears

Chorus

It's hard luck, hard times and too many rainy days

Hard working people who just get by from pay to pay

It takes it toll upon us, we sometimes drive away the ones who care

With all the wearing and the tearing, the caring just walks right out the door

!!ACCORDION ENTHUSIAST ALERT!!

 Though you can't tell in the video, I'm playing a different accordion.  Yah, Big Red is a little miffed, but I have this big bad mother of a Tonaveri on loan from the Mintenko family and I had to give it a squeeze.  The keys are smaller than Big Red's and the buttons on the left hand are much closer together, so it's taking some getting used to. On the other hand, the bellows are nice and tight, the action on the keys crisp, the reeds fresh and clear....it's a sweet instrument  Okay, so now a confession that might not make me a lot of friends: people who are all weirdly obssessive about accordions creep me out.  There it is.  What better place to make enemies in the accordion community than on the worldwide web.  Now that's out of the way, here's some weirdly obssessive pics of the Tonaveri sure to delight the accordion enthusiast.  Check out these reed settings!  This thing's a cadillac. Mellow? What the?!?!  Best thing is when you press it.....nothing happens!  Sweet. 

The Organ setting is seriously addicitive

And they didn't skimp on the bass settings either

The Lonely Astronaut - March 25, 2012

Yes, Nanaimo is a hard, hard woman, but that's not going to stop me from heading to The Hub City next weekend to play a show at Crace Mountain.  This is a big show, the end of an era, as Superprince Adam and Superprincess Lyndsay move along to new frontiers.  Aaaaaargh!  Also on the bill, Black Valley Gospel with their infernal devil music, and I've got a sweet little combo together for the show featuring Rachelle Reath on violin and vox and Marek Tyler on the drums. 

At the end of our rehearsal on Saturday, we did a one take recording of our song The Lonely Astronaut.  In the great tradition of songs like Rocket Man and Space Oddity, the song uses outer space as a metaphor for loneliness and alienation, while making direct lyrical references to Hank Williams (hey music fans, spot the reference and win a surprise gift!) and The Five Man Electrical Band.  Below are links to our performance of the song, as well as to a larger orchestral version by The Euphorians, recorded live off the floor in   my basement by boy genius Mike Hall.

Here's our take from the rehearsal

click here: THE LONELY ASTRONAUT - THE EUPHORIANS

The Lonely Astronaut
The astronaut stands on the shores of an alien sea
believes he can hear the children laughing now with glee
But in the realm of irrational perception
he was once crowned national champion
while the commotion caused by his emotions
made him renowned in his hometown

When he left home he became well-known
for sporting a massive biblical beard
'til that fateful night he was trussed and sheared
by a drunken balladeer

It was then that he decided to travel to the stars
leave behind this world of buildings
pocketbooks and cars

In a world where the sky is green and the trees are blue
and there's no one for a trillion miles but you
it's wise to doublecheck your supplies
and remember
it takes gravity to cry

What a waste, what a waste
when your tears float into space
instead of falling
instead of falling down your face
what a waste, what a waste

Now Nature abhors a crybaby
as much as she abhors a vacuum
so astronauts you must not succumb
to the commotion of your emotions

I'm a stranger here on this place called Earth
and I was sent down here to discover my worth
I'm a stranger here on this place called Earth
and I was sent down here to discover my worth


The astronaut stands on the shores of an alien sea
believes he can hear the children laughing now with glee



and what the hell, here's Bowie doing Space Oddity

My Heart & My Head - New Song with Rachelle Reath - January 28, 2012

Like a kid who's just built a really cool model or a sweet Lego skyscraper, I'm usually a little stoked after I write a song. I wrote this one earlier this month and was enjoying playing it.....alone.....in my basement. I felt maybe lyrically it was a tad too sadly self-indulgent for public consumption.  For me, the litmus test is how the song feels when I play it to an audience. There are times when a song I felt pretty good about in the afterglow of penning it, just doesn't fly when I play it live for the first time - falls out of my mouth like a hairball, hangs in the air like a bad smell, is just plain awkward.  Well I played this one the other night at the accordion show and it felt good.   More sweetly melancholic than sadly self-indulgent, enough humour to counter-balance the gloom.  The minor/major semi-tone modulations in the melody, like the Tin Pan Alley dudes used to do, are like candy to me.

My friend and collaborator Rachelle Reath popped by this afternoon and I taught her the song.  We worked out an arrangement, did two and a half takes, and laid it down.  One aim of this exercise is to not get precious, let go, just do it, and that's what we did.  

I met Rachelle a couple of years ago when she sang some backup harmonies on a recording I was working on and we have been playing together in one format or another since.  She is a dedicated and gifted musician who brings a lot of joy to the act of making music and by extension, is a joy to play with.   She is also a patient and talented music teacher - if you're in the Victoria/Sydney area looking for a great violin teacher, let me know, and I'll pass along your contact info!

My Heart & My Head

My heart pumps blood

through my scrambled veins

My heart is like a machine

and machines don't feel pain

My heart, my heart, my heart, my heart

and my head

My head is a vessel of bone

it contains my brain

my brain is like machine

and machines don't feel pain

Machines don't dream

they don't hope 

or aspire

They just do their jobs

that's how they're wired

My head, my head, my head, my head

and my heart

My heart is not a metaphor

for courage, strength, or love

So please do not speak of these things

you know not what you speak of

My heart is a muscle

a muscle that is strong

If you write a song about a muscle

will anyone sing along

My heart, my heart, my heart, my heart

oh my heart

My heart, my heart, my heart, my heart

oh my heart