Available Now. Get it here.
Read about it here.
Listen to it here.
Read some reviews here.
Thanks to all who came out last night…..and to everybody who listened in on 102.3 the Mountain. Many thanks to the great Alan K. Stout for setting up the gig and letting us cut loose on live radio. NEPA musicians have no better friend.
If I Only Knew
She Ain’t Mine (But She Should Be)
Does it Matter
Didn’t Feel It Coming
I Don’t Want To Go Home Anymore
Now She’s Gone
I Just Want Her Off My Mind
I Think About That Train
Middle Of These Tracks
Two Coal Cars
It’s what I do. Write songs and then play ’em and see if they work…
This is called “Middle of the Tracks”. Lyrics are here for those interested in such things. Or if you just can’t understand my warbling.
I wrote this specifically to perform onstage. Something we could stretch out on. At the time of night a band usually pulls out a cover….I wanted to have a cover of our own to fall back on. Anyway….it doesn’t matter why you write ’em I guess…as long as you write ’em and nobody throws stuff at you.
Monday, November 12th.
We hit the stage at 9pm for an hour set. Live radio broadcast. There’s a stage and everything. And seats. Come. Or listen at WVIA.org
Come support us and public broadcasting and Big Bird. An hour long public service announcement. With guitars.
Facebook invite thingie is here…
The audio of a short video clip was brought to my attention on Sunday morning. It contains the following conversation taking place behind the lens…
Guy 1 – These guys are really good. They could…you know….make a lot of money and shit.
Guy 2 – You see those 2 girls right there?
Guy 1 – What? Where? Oh ok, yea. Whoa.
Guy 2 – They’re hookers
Guy 1 – Yea ok
Guy 2 – No…I mean real hookers. I used to live down here
Guy 1 – Oh. Well, that’s cool. A girl’s gotta eat I guess. She’s kinda hot. It sucks she charges.
And that my friends, along with towed cars….is rock and roll in Scranton on a Saturday night.
The Shillelaghs were out-ed…..and though I was a bit rusty from too many years in the basement….the boyos in the band were bringing the noise and I rode the wave until we quite literally ran out of songs to play and Wiggy started the “Mannish Boy” riff. We ended with what Wiggy calls “the Slash song”. A tune from our record called “I Don’t Want To Go Home Anymore“….hampered only slightly by my singing the words to a totally different song for the first 2 verses. That’s the kind of night it was. Winging it….with a hint of desperation…..and a slew of very intoxicated people dancing literally 3 feet from the bridge of my nose.
Little bits and pieces are coming back to me. Getting ready to start a Kinks song and being totally distracted by a jagermeister girl sauntering past wearing what I believe is still called a “skirt”…at least amongst those not as old as I am. All I saw was black fishnet from the ceiling to the floor. You try to channel Ray Davies under such conditions motherfucker.
Still, it sure beats working.
I do need some seasoning, however. When the advice of your bandmates boils down to “don’t start a song without telling us what it is first” and “sing into the microphone….that’s kinda why we put it there”, that means there’s some green in the tube that needs to be squeezed out. But still, nobody threw anything. And by the time we hit “If I Only Knew” and “I Think About That Train” and “Rescue Me” I daresay we were sounding positively filthy.
(I should point out that I had more than a few exchanges with folks that went something like this…
Them: The band is killer….unbelievable. How did you….er….you know….um..
Me: How did I get them to play with me?
Them: Well…no…that’s not what I meant….but now that you mention it….
Me: I paid them.
Them: Oh. Yea well that’s a good way.)
Unfortunately the only videos I’ve got my hands on are a snippet of Marvin Gaye…..and us doing “Light of Day” and having a band conference mid-song discussing how it should end. Still, it’s my favorite song to play….so maybe I just didn’t want it to end.
And no I wasn’t trying to look like ‘Lil Wayne with the pants falling off. I forgot my belt. All part of the learning curve.
Let’s do this again sometime shall we? I shall have the Kinks ironed out.