Category Archives: AYoS issues

Dog years and lunar days…

Rainy Day on Temple Ave
NEW SONG ALERT!

A song a day… that was the concept.

Yep.

A song a day for a year, newly recorded, with a little write-up.

They started out being terrestrial, regular old 24 hour days.

But at this point, we’re pretty much talking about lunar days…

However, there are more than a year of songs up here now — or at least different versions… 400 of them, covering 144 songs and 28 instrumentals. Give or take. Some tracks are no longer available. (Yes, even I have some shame.)

Anyhow, here’s a new song.

I know, I’m supposed to write something about it. It’s been up on Soundclick for over a week and I still haven’t thought up anything. So, what the heck…

It’s about some loser.

lyrics
Rainy Day on Temple Ave

I saw her again
and she was smiling in the sun
but I remember when
she was down and she was almost done

she had herself a man and
he was doing her so wrong
she said I’ll
give you what I can
but I’m not sure that I’m that strong

And I said Baby, that’s OK
I know I should not stay
I wouldn’t want your tomorrows
to be as sad as our today

There was a time
when I counted the two of us as one
there was a dream
I thought all my darkness was all gone

Some things have to be and
some things can never last for long
and some times you just see
to try to hang on is just (so damn) wrong

And I said Baby, that’s OK…

One drink buys the next
until you’re staring at the stars
wondering what went wrong
and wondering where the hell you are

That was
ten thousand miles ago
but I guess I haven’t come all that far
I’m still wandering through these streets
I’m still lost among those stars

And I said Baby, that’s OK…

2008-09-06
(C)2008, TK Major

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One bridge too few…

All Because of You

I‘ve got a mental block.

Well… I mean… that is to say, there’s this particular one that’s vexing me right now.

(Hell… I’ve got so many mental blocks, I don’t even know they’re there anymore. Like navigating one’s bedroom in the dark, I automatically circumnavigate them. They’re as unnoticeable to me now as a distortion in the space-time continuum, part of the field of everyday reality.)

Fortunately, this one is not exactly earth shaking.

But it does seem, for now, to be, once again, standing in the way of getting a decent version of this song, below, up on the web.

I keep hoping some singer or band out there will take the poor thing under their wing and do a decent version of it and send me a link… [hint, hint] … or something.

Previous versions have been shaky for a number of reasons — even within the wobbly quality orbit of AYoS — not the least of them being that I wrote a melody that was just a bit over my head as a singer (we’ll leave aside argument that, perhaps, “Mary Had a Little Lamb” isn’t just a little bit over my head as a singer).

This time, I tried to disguise my shaky grasp of my own melody with a willfully sloppy self-duet (of the midnight drunken choir variety). Unfortunately, the logsitical challenges of coordinating my small ensemble of personality fragments for the modest task of recording a couple of vocal and guitar tracks was apparently so great that I forgot to perform an important part of the song.

Midway through recording the lead guitar accompaniment I found myself thinking: Where’s that confounded bridge?

All Because of You

[this recorded version omits the bridge]

more stream & DL options

previous versions
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Wednesday, July 19, 2006

lyrics
All Because of You
[includes lyrics for that confounding bridge]

[E~ g#m g#m]
He should have
seen it coming
but he never dreamed
he’d ever have to watch her leave
She laughed all the way to Austin
And she cried the rest of the
way to New Orleans

[g#m ~ f#m]
Baby Doll, it’s all because of you
You always sew destruction
No matter what ya say you’re trying to do
Now always get
whatever it is
you want
and as long as I’ve known you
You always want
what you ain’t got

I have known you
such a long long time
and you know I wouldn’t say
it if it wasn’t true
You don’t have a heart I know
but I’m recently convinced there’s no soul
inside of you

Yesterday’s toys you
throw them all away
you dont even watch
to see their paper hearts in the flames
Like a goddess before
the gods learned how to feel
In your universe your world is the
only one that’s real

[missing bridge: c#m ~ g#m ~]
(look here) Baby
I got the map on you
Every lie you tell
I can drill right through
Baby Doll the fall is coming soon
and when it falls
it’s all gonna be on you

[E~ g#m g#m]
He should ‘a
seen it coming
but he never dreamed
he’d have to watch her leave
(C)2007, TK Major

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In memory of Kurt Schnyder

'Venus in the Basement' by Kurt Schnyder

I got the call this morning.

I knew his health hadn’t been too good since he broke his hip in a bicycle accident a little over a year ago. When I saw him a few times around Christmas, he was thin — as always — but he was very happy.

For the first time in many, many years he was in love. He excitedly talked about buying a ring for his girlfriend, Charlene. If you knew Kurt, as I had for almost 30 years, that was deeply surprising — to put it mildly.

Still, there could be no questioning his enthusiasm for his new relationship. At times it was all he could talk about. And there was no questioning his genuine affection and love for his girlfriend, despite surprising differences between them.

So it was especially saddening when one of our mutual friends called me this morning to tell me Kurt had passed away less than 24 hours after checking into the hospital. We still don’t know the particulars of his passing and, really, it’s hard to feel like they really matter much. He was not young, at 53, but not old, either. Still, his health had been increasingly precarious, especially after the bike accident knocked him off his feet for the better part of a half year. The last time I saw him, he was still using a cane. (I used a cane, myself, for five years after a motorcycle wreck when I was 29, so it’s never something I like to see one of my friends leaning on. I kept hoping he’d be throwing it away soon but… ah well.)

Anyway, I’ll be writing more about Kurt, who was a very good painter and graphic artist (the hurriedly photographed picture above that he gave me as a housewarming gift almost 20 years ago only hints at his skill and vision… I hope to share more with you over coming months) as well as a fine percussionist (he was part of my all improv ambient ensemble Drift in the mid-90s, along with clarinetist/guitarist Steven (Caz Camberline) Becker and violinist/vocalist Ann De Jarnett).

He was a witty, often wildly funny man. At times he lived a little large and maybe a little wobbly — but he was a hell of a guy and a hell of a friend and — damn it — I really miss him already.

Gotta go.

Here’s the memorial site Kurt’s sister and friends and I came up with for Kurt.

Below are some songs featuring Kurt Schnyder:

13th Bar Blues

Kurt plays all the percussion on this wild and woolly workout. We recorded in two passes, with me on guitar and him on a handful of his percussion toys on both tracks. And I later went back and added some keyboard parts (no, that’s not really a sax section, back there).

Pretty Little Head

Kurt is joined on congas on this track by our mutual friend Michael Bay on shakers. The two conga tracks and the shakers were actually recorded for one of the songs on Mike’s unreleased first album that he recorded a number of years ago in my old project studio and he graciously allowed me to swipe them and build a whole new track around them.

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