176. Edie Disappearing

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE

Emily Factoid #456: Sometimes when I do a song I like to keep the headphones on as I type so the mic can pick up the clicking of the keys.  That’s what’s happening right now as I’m typing.  Okay.  Stopping.  Now.

I had a friend once a long time ago who was very wonderfully strange.  My other friends never really got to meet her because I didn’t know her for very long… a friend-summer romance… you know those?  The friendships that come at you like a bowling ball and then leave you like Danica Patrick at NASCAR.  In any case, it was a huge impact on me, and I still think of her from time to time, and she shows up in my songs every now and then.

This is a sketch of her that I need to make longer and revisit with a bridge.  I call her Edie because, unrelated to my friend, I knew a really awesome-kinda-crazy-awesome lady named Edie once: she always wore sunglasses, even inside buildings, and fashioned every day for herself an enormous beehive hair-do.  Oh, Edie…I liked Edie.

Lyrics are based on a word salad technique I got from Jocelyn: mainly improvisatory.  I have been listening to war-era radio recently.  I heard a song the other day that was a repetitive call and response sort of… I can’t remember the song, but the genre was heavily used in the kind of new “pop-folk” that was integrating the scene at the time.

This is first take!  Why worry about it!?  Bless you, my child; hope your day is fantastical!

Edie Disappearing




175. Slosh, slosh, slosh

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE

Native American Boy Carries Water Pails © Joseph Schwartz/CORBIS

Visit to the veterinarian yesterday for Lacey, and yes, I am posting late!  Posting late!  My apologies, my friend: I have no good excuses other than just being busy.   (Well, the vet trip was a bit traumatic, but the doctor isn’t fun for us either, I suppose.)

Here we are… and now I must be off to look at a van with Jeremy (guitarist for Pearl and the Beard), as we are in need of a van for tour, and he has found one to test drive.  Let us hope there is no dried vomit hidden in the back seat that we overlook… yikes: kids and those car trips.

Writing: Theme of bells and uke and bass all inter mixed with one other in a conversation about what to do and what to say.  No arguing, but discussing.  There is a difference between arguing and discussing!

It’s slurpy and sloshy and swishy like water in a bottle… that’s because it is: a water bottle for a drum.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Slosh, slosh, slosh.  I close my eyes and see a little boy with two big pails in his hands, struggling to keep them straight and then it starts to rain and rain.  The roads are muddy… everything, even his shoes are sloshing and sloshing: struggling to get home with enough water in the buckets by the time he gets home.

Hope you are staying cool… it’s a hot one out here!

Slosh, slosh, slosh


174. Everything Rhymes with Pee and Poo (Johnny Cash/White Stripes Study)

DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FOUR

Choose your Region!

I would like to make public, before I go into a song about poo and pee (and since we’re talking about bodily functions and getting all personal anyway): I have Silent Acid Reflux Disease (what!? Disease!?) or LARYNGOPHARYNGEAL REFLUX.  It makes me wake up feeling horrible and makes me sick, sick, sick.  It’s also affecting my vocal chords which is stressful.  So, I am starting a new, scary, life-changing diet: I have to eat REALLY healthy!  Ahh!  No tortilla chips, fried food, acidic juices including orange juice, grapefruit juice (my favorite!), red meat, butter, chocolate (!?), cheese, eggs, caffeine, soda and PROCESSED SUGAR- NOOOOO!!! GOOD BYE GUMMIES!  FOREVER!!!

Good-bye!!!

Reference:

Johnny Cash’s genius and awesome song called – One Piece at a Time

White Stripes’ song – Hotel Yorba

(okay, maybe some Violent Femmes)

Emily’s Theory #344: Everything Rhymes with Poo and Pee.  Everything.  There is a huge list of things that rhyme with poo and pee.  You can even rhyme things that don’t seem to rhyme, for example: dog – pee – doggie; pomegranate – poo – pomegrantoo. Yes. True.

Emily’ Theory #2: Try to fit woo, hey, or yeah in as many songs as possible (within reason).

This is the second take, and I’m on my way out back home from Connecticut, so no need to be picky (Jonathan says not to be picky on a song about poo and pee.  I say it’s the one reason to be picky…)

I am having a frustrating time with this new mic I have recently acquired, so I apologize for the poor recording quality.  There are a million different settings on this thing, and I have yet to figure out how it works exactly.

Everything Rhymes with Pee and Poo

I was out on the lake, Lake Pocataupog
Lovin’ my  stay with my fine lookin’ dog
I was pleased I was there and wish you were too
Cause I’m rhyming with pee and I’m rhyming with poo
Out with my fine mercury 75
When out of the blue that mercury died
Middle of the water with nothing to do
So now I’m rhyming with pee and I’m rhyming with poo
Everything rhymes with pee and poo
Just give it a try, you can do it too
Everything rhymes with poo and pee
Just give it a try and you will see
Out there all alone just sittin’ on my ass
When a purring 3-6-0 cut through the glass
Drivin’ that boat – a fine red bikini
She’s got me rhyming with poo and rhyming with pee
Next thing I know we’re driving to shore
I ask her her name and she says, “What for?”
I say, “I sure like your boat and since mine’s out to sea,
Let’s do some rhyming with poo and rhyming with pee…”
Everything rhymes with pee and poo
Just give it a try, you can do it too
Everything rhymes with poo and pee
Just give it a try and you will see
Do shoe glue stew blue, flu, kung foo, two, chew, screw, clue, Kalamazoo
Everything rhymes with pee and poo
See, tree, flea, plea, key, bee, banshee, Bruce Lee, bourgeoisie and a hysterectomy
Everything rhymes with poo and pee
Everything rhymes with poo and pee
Everything rhymes with poo and pee

173. Lovers in the West (A Study on Truncated Extreme Real Hyperbole)

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-THREE

Mom? Is that you?!

I am in Connecticut this weekend doing a recording session and performing a little…so this is actually only about 45% of the entire song.  I thought I would wait to post it and finish it, but in about 2 minutes, the place where I’m staying will be invaded by a going away party (I’m staying at a little cottage on Lake Pocotopaug as a favor from a some very kind friends!).  So, I have recorded what I have finalized for you to hear and then I will finish and repost the finished song.

So, my dad is actually from Malad, Idaho and my mother is actually from Hyrum, Utah.  I thought I might experiment with taking truths and spinning them out of control.  The first verse starts more in realism: my dad’s place of birth and his family – he has one sister and several brothers.  My mother, however, though born in Hyrum, was not left by gypsies or cared for by wolves anywhere near the sea (though I can hear my dad’s voice now saying, “We’ve been trying to keep it a secret for years! Who told you?!”)

The further the story goes the more outrageous the twisted actual facts will get (hopefully), but we will see.  You never know in cases like this where things will go.  I apologize for the incompleteness, but work calls!

Choruses can a be a real bitch sometimes.  But sometimes they can come really quickly.  This chorus I just pulled out of thin air and didn’t want to think about it since I can see myself doing so and taking forever on it.  And I had this goal to do something different from I might normally do… Let’s get this thing done!

Recording:  There is a motorcycle that drives by IN TUNE WITH THE SONG- HOW COULD I REDO IT AND TAKE IT OUT?!  PRINT!

Stay well and happy Saturday to you!  I still have not seen the second Iron Man and secretly keep planning to see it at a weird time in the middle of the day.  There is nothing quite like seeing a movie in the early morning and then walking out to go to work thinking to yourself, with the rest of the day to your pleasure: “Yeah, that’s right: I just saw a movie.”

Lovers in the West (working title)

My father, a beggar from Malad, Idaho
Potatoes and Barley were all that could grow
Sister, brothers were fine company
He said, “Now this is the life, just perfect for me.”
My mother, from Hyrum, a mysterious past
Left by the gypsies outcast of outcasts
Cared for by wolves in a cave by the sea
She said, “I’ll will my own way, just you wait and see.”
This a story of lovers in the west (Or – “this a story of lovers in the western states” – which I kind of prefer because it’s funny and weird)

172. You Do What You Gotta Do (a capella)

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO

#1 My equipment has been packed up for a weekend away (I’m doing a recording session up north.) so I recorded with internal mic on my mac.

#2 I waited for a guy to show me a van (Pearl and the Beard needs a touring vehicle) and he never showed. LAME-O!

One take, no sound check, late leaving…

And how are you today?! It’s hot here!  HOOOOOT! (that’s not hoot… it’s hawwwwwt.)

#3 You do what you gotta do.


Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
It’s gonna hit your child right in the face, yeah!
Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
It’s gonna hit your dog right in the woo!
Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
Roll the bus over it’s a
It’s gonna hit your face right in the face!

171. One-Armed Man (The “La” Song)

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-ONE

Samuel Doles, a son of Thomas and Harriet Rhinehart Doles. He was a one armed man and always posed himself in such a way to keep that fact from being obvious in photos.

One of my favorite songs ever is Can’t Get You Out Of My Head by Kylie Minogue (Proud to be guilty of it!)

I have always want to do a la la la la la song…there are a lot of sweet-ass songs that have “la’s”, and here are a few:

Nadia Ali did Rapture

Goldfrapp did Ooh, La, La

and could one forget this pearl: Inner Circle – Sweat

One-Armed Man

I’ll wear your tie, you wear my dress

Knit me a fine white, crooked vest

Shoes fit so tight with tailored pants

Hold tight we will with these two hands

And we sing

It’s blue tonight where should be black

Stars and the suns will not come back

But we will dance beneath the sands

My dress for you, my one-armed man

And we sing

And dance, we will hold tight two hands

Just me and you, my one-armed man

170. It’s Lunchtime (And Against My Better Healthy Judgment, I Would Like Something I Don’t Have In My House)

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY

UGGGGGHHHHH.... soooooo gooooood. So many pictures of this food...

This is near to be the quickest while at the same time being the dumbest (I mean, awesomest?) 365 song yet (the song has to be quick and dumb at the same time in order to qualify for this honor.  It can’t be dumb first and then quick later or vice versa).  Minute 1:47 is my favorite moment.

I grew up eating Kraft Macaroni and Cheese  – None of this stupid homemade junk.  What’s that?!  Now that I’m grown up, when there is nothing to eat in my house, I usually crave it (though I don’t eat it now due to incredibly top-secret, very sensitive political and personal reasons.)  If I’m really hard up, I’ll do a run next door and get some Annie’s Mac and Cheese which is a pretty good organic alternative, also knowing I should be eating the broccoli that’s just sitting there getting bad in the crisper.

Sigh.

What’s in your fridge that you should be eating?  Want to write a song about it?  There are no rules and there is no dumb.

It’s Lunchtime (And Against My Better Healthy Judgment, I Would Like Something I Don’t Have In My House)