Daily Archives: October 15, 2005

Little Baby Doll

Vini, Vidi, Vici -- Baby said when she came home.
It may be time to address the “Baby” issue.

Those familiar with my work will probably already know that, not only did I break my long-ago vow to “never write a song with the word baby in it” (made when I was a TS Eliot and Upanishad infatuated college poet just discovering that — for getting girls — a guitar on the quad beat a stack of dog eared poems in a basement reading on the second Monday of the month in the bowels of the Student Union building), but that at some point I became obsessed with what we shall henceforth refer to as “baby songs.”

Or, perhaps more properly, capital-B Baby songs, since, in many of these songs, “Baby” is more character name than endearment.

So, who is “Baby”?

At first, I thought, myself, that Baby was what some of us, back in the cosmic-gestalt enthralled 60s, called The Other — which, depending on context could refer to everything from God to one’s girlfriend, boyfriend, or pet dog.

And there is certainly something to that notion.

But as the character of Baby continued to develop over a number of songs (yes — someday there will be a Baby opera), I began to realize that Baby was also me — or some perversely vexing, chronically importunate, and ultimately, thoroughly disquieted part of myself.

[It should also be noted that I owe an eternal debt of gratitude to the man who wrote what I consider the Grandaddy of All Baby Songs, Brian Eno, and who gave us all some of my first and most important lessons in postmodern pop. That song, of course, would be the brilliant paen to a truly smoldering beauty, Baby’s On Fire. In fact, Little Baby Doll even contains a passing reference to that 70s underground classic.]

AYoS acoustic version:

produced version

Little Baby, Little Baby Doll

Baby started something
back in 1986
Baby started coming home
and showing me new tricks
Little Baby
Little Baby Doll

Baby said forever
just takes too much time
but Baby said “I’m here right now
so that should work out fine”
Little Baby…

“Veni Vidi Vici”
Baby said when she came home
I said that’s fine for Caesar
but Babylon ain’t Rome
Little Baby…

Baby liked to gamble
with the things she said she loved
but Baby blew her hands
when push came to shove
Little Baby…

Baby played the vagabond
Baby played the whore
Baby played with fire
she’s not playing any more
Little Baby…

Saw her on the street one day
but I didn’t call her name
After all this time
I know that Baby’s still the same
Little Baby
Little Baby Doll
Little Baby…

(C)1993, TK Major
(C)1993, TK Major

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Having Fun

Having Fun!

 

The admittedly sardonic lyrics in this tune might make it seem like I think life is meaningless. But that is far from the case. Now, I don’t know what it all means… and I don’t think anyone can tell us or that we’d even understand if they did. But meaningless?

No.

That said, I was a lot more habitually sardonic in 1980 when I wrote this song. And I did consider myself a hedonist… but I was lying to myself, even on that count.

Having Fun

There’s a startling new religion
sweeping through the subdivisions
Having Fun is what they call it
Soon you’ll be a Fun-a-holic

Well, there isn’t any priesthood
doctrine’s anything that feel’s good
It’s the one true religion
There’ll be no more revisions

Having Fun (on the job)
Having Fun (while at play)
Having Fun (all night long)
Having Fun (all through the day)

Well, we’re all upon a journey
going back unto the Funhead
When we finally arrive there
we’ll have all the Fun we wanted

There are some say Fun is boring
but to them I’ll give this warning
Have Fun while there’s time
because the Fun stops when you die

Having Fun (on the job)
Having Fun (while at play)
Having Fun (all night long)
Having Fun (all through the day)

Having Fun
Having Fun
Having Fun


Blog Within a Blog…

One of my friends died unexpectedly a few days ago. It wasn’t natural causes. It was an accidental drug overdose.

He was an amazing man in many ways. Not an intellectual, but whip smart. He was, as he sometimes liked to say, the baddest white mofo in all of Compton when he was growing up. Which probably wasn’t too hard. There weren’t many white mofos in Compton. But he did grow up wild, got into drugs and what it takes for a poor kid to get money for drugs.

Still, after some very hard knocks, he got clean and sober and remained that way for over a decade. In fact, he was one of the people who gave me the courage to quit drinking in the mid-90s. I figured if he could turn his back on some very hard drugs, I could certainly crawl out of the bottle.

But, like so many of us who are drawn to substance abuse, he was a very complex and volatile guy; a very moody guy, at times.

Those of us who knew the public side of him rarely caught glimpses of this troubled man that he usually kept hidden. But his closest friends knew that he wrestled with some very powerful and troubling demons. Still — all too often — he seemed to want to fight that fight in private, away from those who might help him. Call it ‘drug shame’ if you will — but in the last several years he would disappear from those who loved him most when the demons got the best of him, sometimes for weeks or even months.

When he moved in across the way from a friend of mine, a former college teacher, who knew my friend through me and through the coffee house where we had all met, she was delighted, because she knew the affable, often wildly funny public side of him. But she didn’t see him much. He was a contruction crane operator and when he worked he worked a lot and hard.

The last few days, she didn’t really think twice when she saw his front door open and music coming through the screen door when she left for work and came home in the evening — figuring our friend was simply taking a few days off. But when a note on the door went unanswered, the landlord finally let himself in.

He leaves behind his mother and stepfather, his grandmother, and a teenage daughter he cherished dearly.

And a lot of confused and and very sad friends.

I’d like to turn to you out there and give you some advice, a warning, anything… but, honest to God, I just can’t think of what to say.

 

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