Category Archives: commentary

Everyone knew her name…

A new version of this song written back in July, 2001. I’ve always felt guilty writing joke and novelty songs — and I’ve always gone ahead and done it anyway — and all too often I haven’t been shy about sharing them. Always the kid in the back of the class.

Anyhow, somehow, over the years, I’ve developed an affection for these lyrics — but never been all that comfortable with what had been a basic 3-cowboy-chord  song. It’s still only got 3 or 4 chords (depending on how you count, let’s not get theoretical) but I sort of like the new version’s sloppy bounce.

[2018-03-02 New mix/remaster; the lo fi preview tracks from BandCamp and SoundCloud were killing me, you could barely hear the jingly things on the big tambourine that supplies the ‘rhythm’ for the track.]


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 that family man
he was doomed from that first day
I saw her rip his heart into little tiny shreds and I 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 damn far
God I’ve come to love that girl so

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

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Don’t Ask a Fool (Why He Falls in Love)


NEW SONG ALERT!*

 

“In the field of psychology, the Dunning–Kruger effect is a cognitive bias, wherein persons of low ability suffer from illusory superiority when they mistakenly assess their ability as greater than it is. The cognitive bias of illusory superiority derives from low-ability persons’ metacognitive inability to recognize their own ineptitude.[1]”  Wikipedia entry on The Dunning-Kruger Effect **

“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool”
— William Shakespeare  (As You Like It)

Don’t Ask a Fool (Why He Falls in Love)

Don’t ask the sun
why the sky is blue
Don’t ask the river
where it’s flowing to
Don’t ask the stars
why they shine up above
and don’t ask a fool
why he falls in love

Don’t ask me
why I love you
Don’t ask a slave
what he wants to do
Don’t ask a dead man
what he’s dreaming of
and don’t ask a fool
why he falls in love

Don’t ask tomorrow
when there’s no today
Don’t ask forever
if you’ve gone away
Don’t ask for more
when there’s never enough
Ah — but don’t ask a fool
why he falls in love

(C)2015, 2017, TK Major

* New to A Year of Songs, anyhow. I kept pushing and pulling at it but it kept not changing so here it is. ** Oh, and with regard to the Dunning-Kruger Effect? I already know I can’t sing worth a damn. So just don’t go there, my friend. =D

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The winter of our fresh content?


A single-handed keyboard improvisation for orchestral synthesizer from several years ago.

OK… yeah, bad pun. Maybe not even immediately recognizable in its intent. Sue me.

But here it is, the turning of another season and this blog’s fresh new decade that started with the autumnal equinox is now three months in and… not much new content to show… exactly.

But I did complete the infrastructure overhaul of the site, getting all the posts tagged properly with subjects and song titles and laboriously going through all the play links, converting the motley collection of playing systems to (almost) all use the same, straightforward in-page player.

And… well… I have been playing a lot. And working to try to bring my undisciplined and tonally meandering voice under better control. It might seem odd, playing catch-up on the singing front after showing no regard for niceties like pitch and technique for decades, but I am a creature of whim — and more than a little whimsy. And a dash of quixotic abandon when it comes to impossible quests. I mean, I know I ain’t never gonna be Nat Cole.

More soon… no, really.

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