Tag Archives: cheating

Bygone days…

Victrola

 

I have a real soft spot for the music of thirties — and there was, of course, a great leap forward in technology between the scratchy records of hte twenties and the relatively good sounding records of the 30s. Also, the advent of affordable amplification tubes took record players from the all-acoustic stylus-to-cone system to something that could entertain a room full of people.

But recording was still pretty documentary, at that point… multiple mics and mixers could spotlight instruments and help achieve creative blends and “moving” mixes (instead of having soloists literally move closer to the recording cone for solos during the earliest days of all-acoustic recording).

Now… some great recordings were done in the 50s (particularly in jazz and classical)… the fi was finally hi… toward the end of the decade, people started tracking with an eye toward stereo.

But — and the fact that I came more or less of age during the decade undoubtedly is not coincidental — for me, some of the most creative arrangements and recordings came out of the 60s.

Multitrack technology was still somewhat limited. Most pop was tracked to 3 or 4 tracks (and much of it was still recorded with little thought of stereo mixes)… but there was a burst of arrangement creativity that exploded across pop music… everywhere you turned, people were mixing it up, stylistically. Folkies snuck in electric guitars and keyboards or went the other way with (often quite creative) string and woodwind arrangements. Jazzers adopted some rock elements but also reached outside traditional ways of looking at jazz — and even music itself — adopting composition techniques from orchestral avant-gardists… and rock… rock/pop absorbed it all and mixed it up even crazier.

The creativity extended into the 70s, of course, but that was also the era when the suits started really getting scientific about how to coopt and manipulate musical and social trends… the early 70s “underground disco” scene which had seemed so cool, even subversive, all but died out but eventually was K-marted into the Saturday Night Disco Fever Era… Within a decade, the outrage and provocation that had been the original punk rock was being marketed in mall stores targetted to supplying off the rack punk wear to “disaffected” suburban youth. (“Disaffected” from any meaningful culture, I might say, cynically.)

There’s been plenty of cool music since, of course, I’ve enjoyed a lot of hip hop over the years, I liked the electronica scene during the 90s, I liked the new blues movement where hip hop and other postmodern elements reinvigorated some beloved but shopworn forms, I appreciated the return of roots consciousness to the periphery of the country music scene.

But… you know… I was almost a teenager when I first heard the Beatles… I was an angry young man when I got into the political bands of the era like the (old) Jefferson Airplane or MC5… I was a questing outsider listening to Jimi Hendrix or Bitches Brew… I guess it’s kind of predictable that I’d be drawn to the music of the era when I really came alive as a music listener and began to think that maybe I, too, might find some way to make music.

And now… completely unrelated… a song I wrote a few years ago…

Who’ll Stop Lorraine?

Internet Archive page for this recording
May 11, 2006 version
December 16, 2005 version

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?

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Look at the mess that you’re leaving me in…

JoZynn, JoZynn

 

 

 
3 little babies down on the floor
2 scared 2 cry
1 thing for sure
Nothing means nothing anymore
except those kids…

Internet Archive page for this recording
previous version (March 27, 2006)
previous AYoS version (December 8, 2005)

JoZynn JoZynn

JoZynn JoZynn
JoZynn JoZynn
look at the mess that you’re leaving me in
Jo
Zynn JoZynn

JoZynn JoZynn
all is forgiven
come back again

3 little babies down on the floor
2 scared 2 cry
1 thing for sure
Nothing means nothing anymore
except those kids
Jozynn Jozynn

JoZynn JoZynn…

All this time you been away
it’s nothing to me
it’s just be a day
if you just come back again
Jo
Zynn

JoZynn JoZynn…

3 lonely kids
1 angry man
2 hurt 2 cry
for God’s sake woman there’s
a million things
you’ll never understand
Jo
Zynn JoZynn

JoZynn JoZynn
Jo
Zynn JoZynn
look at the mess that you’re leaving me in
Jo
Zynn JoZynn

(C)1996, TK Major

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The first time I saw her, I knew it was too late…

Baby was a friend of mine...

 

 

 
Loyalty…

I wanted to write about the wary, sadder-but-wiser loyalty of a prisoner for his favorite guard… or a guy for his ex-girlfriend. You know, the one he thinks wrecked his life.

I wanted to suggest the weary resignation as he stands one more time to defend her, even though he knows she’d sell him out in a second. Knows it because she’s done it a hundred times.

Internet Archive page for this recording
previous AYoS version – 30 March
previous AYoS version – 18 November

Baby Was a Friend of Mine

the first time I saw her
I knew it was too late
a shadow fell across my soul
I asked her for a date

baby was a pistol
way too hot to hold
baby was a big mistake
some things you cant be told

but baby
was a friend of mine
baby was a friend of mine
she couldn’t keep from cheating
she never did stop lying
but baby was a friend of mine

Now, baby drove me crazy
for almost seven years
then she drove away one day
with a repo-man from Sears

I found her in a Motel Six
out in San Berdoo
she was watching Lucy re-runs
and sniffing airplane glue

but baby
was a friend of mine…

Now the last time I saw her
she said that it was fate
I thought for sure you’d save me
(she) said as she turned away

I thought i saw a tear
slide across her face
I thought I saw forever
just as it slipped away

but baby
was a friend of mine
baby was a friend of mine
she couldn’t keep from cheating
she never did stop lying
but baby was a friend of mine
(C)1992, TK Major

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I’ll keep it on the VCR and watch it over and over again…

... and I never went home

Passive aggressive.

I always thought that had a kind of cool sound, conjuring images of a leather jacketed hoodlum leaning against a lampost, the 24/7 tug of jaded, world-weary amusement pulling his thin lips into a tight grin.

But the guy in this song ain’t that kind of passive aggressive. He’s the real kind. In the backstory that’s evolved in my mind for this song since I wrote it in 1984, he’s drinking in the neighborhood dive, just like every night when he sees the paramedics in front of his house on the 11 o’clock news. When they haul his wife out under a sheet, followed by another body, this one with a familiar pair of worn cowboy boots he recognizes as his best friend’s, he mutters, “Damn junkies,” and keeps drinking.

Passive aggressive. I heard those words in anger a few times. I wish it could say it was a misdiagnosis.

But, like my late father, my ex-girlfriends just keep getting smarter every day.

 


[full version (c.1994) on Soundclick feat. Jeff Turmes, sax | requires Flash]
 

Someone Said Something

Someone said something
or I’d have never known
Someone said something
and I never went home

They found you In the arms of another man
the needle still in your vein
You finally transcended
Now you’re cheating on a higher plane

Someone said something . . .

What are a few bad habits
between old friends?
You were a junky and a trollop
but I loved you to the end

Someone said something . .

Policemen and photographers
and a local station’s mini-cam
I’ll keep it on the VCR
and watch it over and over again

Someone said something
or I’d have never known
Someone said something
and I never went home

(C)1984, TK Major

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