Michelle (It's Easy to Be Sad)

One thing led to another.

I had to write a song for a girl named Michelle as part of the Barista Cycle project.

What's the first thing you think about when you sing the name Michelle? Me, too.

Pretty soon I was writing about a girl working for the phone company (back in the days when there was pretty much just one big phone company, nicknamed Ma Bell). Having been a directory assistance operator as a temp for six weeks (long story, money plays a part in it), I'd heard the same thing from a few girls: "Here I am a single female surrounded by gorgeous men with steady jobs and great fashion sense, but..."


Once I was treading on the hallowed shadow of the Beatles, I found myself drawn to turning the song into one of those all the lonely people-type affairs, if anything for the license it might afford, allowing a cheap but hopefully satisfying excursion into lazy compassion.

So... we catch up with Michelle on a Saturday night, her charming, handsome through-the-week pals are otherwise engaged, even her cat is out for a night on the town...


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Michelle (It's Easy to Be Sad)

Michelle
Ma Bell was such a strange career choice
I know you did it to be around all them pretty boys
but I'm afraid you will never be annoyed
by smooth operators down in the break room
they've all got something else to do

Michelle
Ma bell was no place to meet boys
all the best they're all just someone else's toys
all of the strut and all of the noise
all the clothes and all the poise
they've all got something else to do
Michelle

It's a saturday night michelle
It's a saturday night michelle
It's a saturday night michelle
And when Monday morning comes around
You know you'll hear how it all went down
and you know how it'll make you feel
the same old loneseome way
It's easy to be sad
when all your boyfriends are gay

Who'll Stop Lorraine

I wasn't so sure this song would ever see the public light of day. First of all, it's premised around an especially silly pun (which I'm hoping I needn't explain). Second, until I added a new verse last night as I was recording it, I was afraid it would come off as a dark and threatening sort of thing. I was imagining having to put up another "This is not a murder ballad" kind of disclaimer...

Happily, I came up with a way to end the song that makes it whole... that actually gives it some much needed resolution. An ending that hopefully means I won't be accused of fostering violence against anyone.

In fact, I was still writing the song as I recorded this very version. At the last moment I found myself doing the chorus and realizing I had to change it, somehow, to reflect that resolution. And even casual listeners will surely hear the hesitation as I delivered the new lines off the top of my head.

Rather than re-record the track, I decided to share that moment of creation with you, my trusted and loyal reader. Also, it was late and I was tired and... after all, this is A Year of Songs... it's not about perfection. Or even competence.

It's about keeping going...

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Who'll Stop Lorraine?

I've known Lorraine since we were kids
and I've always been amazed
Every time she went too damn far I thought
Who'll stop Lorraine?

I saw her hunt down Billy Jim
he was doomed from that first day
I saw her rip his heart in two and thought,
Who'll stop Lorraine?

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows her name
Over and over I ask myself,
Who'll Stop Lorraine?

Finally one day I'd had enough
I sat her down looked her in the eye
Lorraine I love you, girl, but straighten up,
'cause, Lorraine, you're wreckin' people's lives

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows your name
Over and over they ask themselves,
Who'll Stop Lorraine?

I never thought Id see a tear in her eye
I never thought I'd see into her soul
but since that day she's come so far
and God I've come to love her so

From the hotel bar to the airport lounge
Everyone knows her name
Over and over they ask themselves,
Whatever became of Lorraine?

(C)2001, TK Major

PS... I also have one from 1994 (that I just now rediscovered -- I doubt I've read it since I wrote it) called "When Lorraine Comes"... I strongly suspect that one won't make it into AYoS. (Sample lyrics: "When Lorraine comes / she coughs and shakes her head / she hardly moves in bed / she might as well be dead /When Lorraine comes..." I think you get the drift.)

It's Only Been a Million Years

As far as I can figure the lyrics to this song (writing them and investing them with meaning are separate processes, y'know?) the protagonist is a kind of downtrodden everyman/everywoman... about how I figured someone married to me would turn out in a decade or two. Or six months.

These are the kind of elemental lyrics that make songwriters like me want to mumble (as if I could still pretend to shame after these nearly 90s songs) and it is only commitment to the process that allows me to grit and paste them into this post. But one of the most important lessons of rock and roll, I think, is that, if you have stupid lyrics to sing, sing them loud. Mumbling stupid lyrics is sure to invite eventual abuse. Shouting them out proudly, stupidly, now, that, my friend, was rock and roll.

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It's Only Been a Million Years

One day you'll wake up
and figure out I've gone
Only thing surprising
took so damn long

It's only been a million years
since I had a dream
It's only been forever
since I felt a thing

One day I love you
next day I don't
Hard to believe
You didn't know

It only takes an instant
for the hottest flame to die
it only takes forever
to spend your life wondering why

It's only been a million years
since I had a dream
It's only been forever
since I felt a thing

(C)1990, TK Major

Sherry

Ah, love.

Sorry-backsided, wrong-headed, stupid love.

Maybe you've never loved that way. Maybe you have. Me, unlike the guy in this song, I've never had a girlfriend (or in his case, wife) steal all my belongings. (One GF kept taking my razors. I pretended not to know. People are funny.)

The song itself was written as part of my 1996 project, The Barista Cycle.

My younger friends should note that a Stingray was the iconic 60's model of the Corvette sports car as well as a 'banana-seated' Schwinn bicycle, a short profile, chopper-barred bike that held a hegemonic grip on America's youth in that far-off decade. I sort of wanted to capture the sense of a couple of kids fighting over a Stingray, one of them tugging on the handlebars, the other pulling hard on the 'chicken bar' on the back of the long seat.



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Sherry

Sherry, you stole my stereo
my dog Bill, my car and my Mac
You can keep the rest of it
but I'm here to tell you
I'm gonna get that Corvette back

Give me back my Stingray
and I'll let your sister go
She followed me from Austin
but she'll go home
if I'm the one that tells her so...

All the way through high school
I was the one who was supposed to break your heart
then we settle down
and you get bored and
you tear our world apart

Give me back my Stingray...

I thought that we were happy
that just goes to show you what I know
I thought I changed all the locks
but I missed that one, you and your tweaker friend
took everything I owned

Give me back my Stingray
and I'll let your sister go
She followed me from Austin
but she'll go home
if I'm the one that tells her so...

(C)1996, TK Major

Have You Embraced the Beast?

1984.

Death squads and slaughter in El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras... genocide against inconvenient indigenous peoples, murder of labor workers, missionaries, nuns, and priests -- paid for, in large part, by US taxpayers with a wink and a nod from our government leaders and our legislators.

This song is not long on subtlety or craft, I'll admit it.

What it has is no shortage of is corrosive, eat-your-guts-out anger... courtesy of yours truly. That's pretty much how I walked around during the '80s... a hard-tempered steel spring coiled tightly inside me, ready to snap. It was a time when the "loyal opposition" were gutless toadies... the spectacle of the Iran-Contra hearings is still burned into my mind.

The relentless covering up of ever-nastier, ever-more shameful secrets, greater crimes against the US Constitution, the US people, and the world, from the government of the popular Ronald Reagan, papered over by trepidatious Democrats...

For every Jack Brooks, there were ten Daniel Inouyes... seemingly ready and eager to pave the way for the presidency of GHW Bush just a few years later. The "investigation" was a disgrace almost as shameless as the offenses it investigated.

Anyhow... it still makes me mad.

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HAVE YOU EMBRACED THE BEAST?

Have you embraced the beast?
I see the mark is on your face
Have you embraced the beast?
Are you a slave of greed and hate?

Have you embraced the beast?
Do you serve the war machine?
Have you embraced the beast?
Did you trade in your soul on (for) the finer things?


Have you embraced the beast?
Do your taxes buy bullets for fascist death squads?
Have you embraced the beast?
They'll be coming to your hometown before too long . . .

Have you embraced the beast?
I see the mark is on your face
Have you embraced the beast?
Are you a slave of greed and hate?

Have you embraced the beast?

(C)1984, TK Major

LA's Not Such a Big Town

This is one of literally dozens of kiss-off songs I wrote for this one girl. We kept breaking up and getting back together. We did it for a couple years. Our relationship was the engine that drove much of my creative output in those days. If we weren't cursing each other's shadows and vowing never to have anything to do with each other, we were falling in love all over again.

It irritated the hell out of our friends, without doubt. And, just between you and me, I don't think I could put up with that kind of nonsense, now. But when I was 25, it was kind of what I expected in life...


I'll likely be doing this song again a bit later in AYoS -- and I'm sure I'll be anxious to give the next version a properly s--- kickin' feel. I'm afraid I recorded this version when I was dead tired night before last after a long day of web database work.

Still, the other songs I recorded that night ("Magic" and tomorrow's "Have You Embraced the Beast?") had a bit more spunk. This work business... I'm sure no one mentioned it when I was signing up for earth duty...

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L.A.'S NOT SUCH A BIG TOWN

Well, I hardly know where you're coming from
but it ain't hard to see where you're going to
what you're coming to)
Hey hey, Darlin'
I just can't save you now

You hold on to me, so damn tight
then push me away -- I walk home alone through the night
thinking about how
I'd be seeing you around

Hey, hey, Darlin', guess I'll be seeing you around
After all L.A. ain't such a big town
Hey hey Darlin, I hope you ain't feeling down
cause those blues will sit on your head
jack your heart and turn your life around

Now you always argue about everything
In your domain irrationality's king
I got a list of topics
a mile long that can't be brung up

You called me up on the telephone
and asked me if I was alone
I said yes --
you said good --and you hung up

Hey, hey, Darlin', I guess yer feeling proud
after all) ya cataloged my faults told the whole
goldang world out loud
Hey hey darlin, I guess it ain't so strange
You tore up my body,
broke my heart, and threw away my brains

Well, I tried to talk out all those things
but your inattentive condescendance stings
Hey hey darlin
there's no point in talking now

Well I never had the money for diamond rings
nor the guaranteed returns wise investment brings
Hey hey darlin,
I guess I'll be seeing ya around

Hey, hey, Darlin', guess I'll be seeing you around
After all L.A. ain't such a big town
Hey hey Darlin, I hope you ain't feeling down
cause those blues will sit on your head
jack your heart and turn your life around

(C)1976, TK Major

I Don't Believe in Magic

Ok... I don't believe in "magic" exactly -- but I do believe in mystery in the esoteric sense.

This song doesn't reflect that because it was -- like many of my songs -- not written from my point of view. Rather, it takes the form of a (hopefully) character-revealing soliloquy from the song's protagonist.

He's clearly a guy at a point in his life when he feels everything of significance is known and those clinging to the idea that life has purpose or meaning or mystery are simply fooling themselves, unrealistic pollyannas clinging to a foolish, if comforting, self-deceit.

And, yes, I guess, maybe that was me, once, at a time when I was overwhelmed by the implications of the anachronistic and simplistically determinist world view I had at the time.

As a teenager, my extremely conservative school district had little use for science, offering the bare minimum to support state requirements. And that, unfortunately, left me with a stunted, 19th century view of the world.

It wasn't until I got to college and was exposed to a proper exploration of the scientific method and contemporary scientific findings and explorations that I started seeing the world as the wonderful and mysterious place I now find it to be. And I don't think that's actually a paradox.

Most folks think they know a lot more than they actually do. Their lives are a gloss of undigested facts, false assumptions, and irrational misapprehensions they've simply been indoctrinated with or adopted to fill ontological voids.

I've long tried to balance my own skeptical nature and the respect for science fostered by my classic liberal college education against my perhaps juvenile lust for the unknown and the just plain weird, all the while still accommodating my rediscovered sense that there is some mystery central to life that is perpetually just on the verge of being answered -- but that never will be.

For me, that balance means using the eyes and brains God and/or nature gave me to observe and measure the world, to collect facts and use my intellect to weave those facts into knowledge. It also means not assuming that everything -- or almost everything -- is known or that authorities, whether spiritual or intellectual, are always right.

The more I find out about how the world really works -- the more mysterious and "magical" life really seems.

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MAGIC

I don't believe in Magic
that stuff's for young girls
Self-deception is tragic tragic
I'm a true believer in the real world

I don't believe in love
that's just a social fiction defined by pain
I don't believe in the meaning of life
it's just a meaningless story scrawled by a fool in the dirt
again and again


I don't believe in magic
I'm a true believer in the real world
Self deception is tragic tragic
I'm a charter member of the real world

I don't believe in god
I don't believe in humanity
I don't believe in abstract knowledge
ideology is insanity

I don't believe in destiny
any fool can see
the world's just atoms floating in space
that's the bottom line on reality

I don't believe in magic
I'm a true believer in the real world
Self deception is tragic tragic
I'm a charter member of the real world

(C)1980, TK Major