I was randomly playing notes on my guitar and happened to come up with the riff that goes along with this song. Seeing as to how I've had the fortune (I use this term loosely) to remember that riff, I decided to coin some lyrics and call it a song. With songs like this, where I come up with the "melody" (i.e. chord pattern) first and add lyrics later, I can usually tell by the melody what type of song it will be�political, sexy, totally nonsensical, or just flat-out psychedelic. This one had to be of the "nonsensical" category. Always a fun category with which to work, that one. (I'll let you know when one from the "sexy" category arises from my improvisations.*) Deciding what the title will be is probably the best part. I like something that has little to do with the song, but nevertheless fits the song's mood. (Determining this last part is done by an instinctive sense that I have.) Describing its style (the song's, that is) is difficult, so you can just wait until I find a way to decently record anything. All I can say, apart from what's in the song, is, it's more the generic crowd's type of song than mine. The lyrics are as follows:
Here is a song that I wrote for the crowd.
It's obnoxious, repetitive, and loud.
I feel it's just what folks want
Whether they live in Siberia or Vermont.
You can play it on Saturday nights
When all your companions are engaged in fights
Over who took all those bites
out of the neighbor's kites. (All right!)
You gotta have a Rolling Stones record
To get your yellow taxi checkered.
Otherwise, you can't get into the club,
And then they won't let you into the pub.
I tell you, this whole town's gone crazy.
Everyone's memory's always hazy
Apparently it is everyone's theory
That everything should look dre-ary.
Here, the song noticeably changes its pace and its key. It goes on like this for a while as I throw in some shticks like those of Allan Sherman's songs composed of different shticks. This song is intended to be performed live, so the shticks will change with each performance or tour. A sample shtick appears here in red. After all the shticks for that particular performance are done, the song goes back to the original key and tempo.
I can't get no
printer cartridges.
One's for me, but
Tell me, which is
For me to buy,
So when I try,
It doesn't go awry
And make me cry.
I can't get no!
Perhaps I should do something about my ego.
You mention me to me, and just watch me go.
My ego's higher than the president
As he's about to have his fender bent.
Bent like a cheap piece of plywood,
Or the mind of a hermit living in some high wood
Whose dog makes an awful lot of racket
Whenever he puts on his jacket.
In fact, the entire song is interchangeable, not just the shticks in the middle. New verses can be added or substituted in for old ones at any time. This is a fun song to work with. You can make up some verses and shticks as well, if you like.
You know, now that I look back on this creation one year later, I can't help but think that I must have somehow been drugged at the time.
*This has actually happened, and I just know it's going to be gold when it's done.
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