I've long been mixing these songs on headphones, which is a major no-no in the professional musician circles I wish I coud travel in, but it's unavoidable. If the balances are off, feel free to let me know. If not, feel free to sing the chorus into your cubicle partner's ear while spilling Fanta all over his/her keyboard. In other words, enjoy it and I'll see you in December.
Many thanks to the mighty Tako Chang for the generous use of his effects pedals, they were a welcome addition to the impoverished variety of tones I usually have to work with.
The song is a bit messy, but I like the chorus and therefore repeat it thrice. That little riff in the chorus is a little sudden, but it too will remain unless popular demand forces its' removal.
The bass and drum track on this is from that oft-sampled breakdown in "Good Times" by Chic. It's sped up, cut up and rearranged and I wish I could say I was playing that bass, 'cause it's tite.
Nile Rodgers, if you're reading this, contact me with any threats or offers of partnership. Thanks.
Though David may now be chiefly thought of as that creepy, walrus-faced former cocaine vacuum who impregnates lesbians, his career began when he helped form the Byrds back in the mid-sixties. He wrote some fantastic songs during his time with them, regardless of whether or not he was a petulant egomaniac.
According to the liner notes in one of those old Byrds records, Crosby was at one time known as "the cute one", and apparantly liked to shake his ass at girls while on stage. Gag. Well, whatever, he was a great songwriter, and congrats to him for being sober and still performing new music, though I'm not too smitten with his latest venture.
This one's for you, Dave.
Lyrically this song was inspired by a number of t-shirts I've spotted around work, macho slogans displayed prominently. I believe the title phrase may have more to do with rugby than union carpentry but who cares? These slogans obviously summed up a lot of what my co-workers were feeling, god forbid anyone thought they might hesitate to trample the weak or something.
Anyway, my disgust compelled me to write this song, I hope you like it.
The song was inspired by my delightful beagle, and was recorded without a finished lyric, so don't expect the thing to make perfect sense. Last months' tune is still the one to beat for '06, this one just fills the gap, but I hope it finds a loving home anyway. Thanks, and see you in June.
The balance of six guitar tracks and numerous backing vocals is precarious, but it holds together. And like most of my songs, I think it gets better as it goes along.
Exactly how ridiculous is my voice? Let me know.
First off, I'd like to welcome you to the Woods of Saxony, a pleasant settlement on suburbia's frontier where the toxic social commentary is accompanied by a melodious rainbow of massed acoustic guitars. We'll tackle other zoning related issues in future songs, I'm sure, but for now this represents our more pastoral take on the subject of urban planning and sustainable growth.
The gravy on this month's already ample biscuit is Kid Concern, a song that turned out better than expected, making me wish I had spent more time on the lyric. I stand by it, however.
Remember to use BugMeNot to get around any annoying signup requirements, if the need should arise. See you in April.
It's a dangerous query for a band to put forth, esecially since some Oxford tunes have been known to get under people's skin. Or would, if anyone ever heard them. But we will not wilt in the face of controversy, and insist on pondering this question, one that occured while shopping at Lowe's as one of our least favorite George Harrison songs played overhead. Thanks, George (lousy hippy).
I don't feel like discussing any of the technical details of this song, but I will say that I definitely need to vary the types of guitar tone I'm using. Four guitars all using the same settings can start to get a little muddy. Enjoy the air raid siren solo courtesy of AirRaidSirens.com. In fact, enjoy the whole thing, and we'll see you in February.