Song #35 Touched (2020)

I started working on this song just before the pandemic started, in February of 2020. Rediscovering my love and appreciation of Joni Mitchell, and having fun experimenting with open tunings, the song wrote itself. The "tearing off our masks" lyrics were actually a reference to a relationship, and not about Covid, but sometimes life and art intersect in unexpected ways. Alan Morse, Ira Ingber, and Richy Stano (The AIR collective) provided the glorious electric guitars a safe distance away at their respective home studios. Filmed the video over two days during the summer, in our pool which was being resurfaced, and it was miserably hot. But suffering for one's art is not as unusual as a once in a lifetime pandemic. Touched
I never thought it would end this wayI never knew the best words to sayHow much I love you and want us toTear off our masks and make love at noon
I’m touched 
Just another normal weekend Falling off the deep endAnd dreaming about New YorkAnd all the simple stupid fun we had
And the more I get to knowThe more I want to throw youA deeply romantic kissBut the headlines scream remember this
I know too much I don’t know much This rabbit hole never endsI know too muchI need your touchTo get me back to normal again 
I’m touched
Maybe we should take a walk nowBaby, maybe we should talk nowAbout this state of affairsAnd if all this smoke will clear the air
Back home I’ll make mojitosAnd we can bounce around like yo-yosOff the walls of the tvWhile the commercials keep reminding me
I know too much I don’t know much This rabbit hole never endsI know too muchI need your touchTo get me back to normal again 
Don’t know why we’re meant to be hereLet’s take a moment just to drink a beerWith a little twist of lime To remind us of our timelines
Is this Steinbeck or Clancy Don’t mean to be a negative Nancy But who’s writing this shitI just can’t remember all of it
I know too much I don’t know much This rabbit hole never endsI know too muchI need your touchTo get me back to normal again 
I know too much I don’t know much This rabbit hole never endsI know this muchI need your touchTo get me back to normal again 
I never thought it would end this wayI never knew the best words to sayHow much I love you and want us toTear off our masks and make love at noon

Song #34 No Christy No (1991)

1991 was a pivotal year.
I shuttered my studio, Skyline Recording, and disbanded my band, Eckey Thump.

The equipment improvements we made to Skyline (Neve v60 console, an extra 24 track  Studer A800 et al.) brought our hourly rate up, but also increased our monthly nut. Additionally, as we were now attracting higher-end clients, the focus of my job became less about engineering and producing, and more about servicing our "guests".  I was being relegated to the role of a concierge:
FAMOUS PRODUCER: This isn't Scottish smoked salmon!
Me: Okay, I'll go back and get some.

Meanwhile, Teddy and I attempted to setup our own music production company for commercials, films, etc., and had succeeded only in fatally damaging our musical partnership, and friendship (not forever).

After all the dust had settled, with no studio, no band, and no job (and a young family to support), I began to piece together a new life.

A Kurzweil K2000 synthesizer with built-in sequencing and sampling capabilities took the place of the recording studio and the band, and a post-production position at ABC television became my job.

Richy Stano and I maintained our friendship throughout this turmoil, and we began writing songs.
Here is our first collaboration:

No Christy No

You made me

You saved me

I was walking the line

Between love and hate

You came through

In a matter of time

When my old man weeped

And mamma cried

No Christy no

Take some but leave the rest

No Christy no

My time to get some rest

Mistaken

Forsaken 

I've been counting the time

From away the sheets

Who knows that

Who even cares

When your dream are real

The dragons come alive

No Christy no
Take some but leave the rest
No Christy no
My time to get some rest goes

And the only one who could sleep

Was not the only one who was there

The cat the silent witness

Sitting in her pretty chair

Yes I'm boring and helpless and rude

And I might end up playing your fool

But if you can't keep your distance

Then I'm not scared

© 1991 Britt Bacon and Richy Stano 

Britt: Kurzweil K2000, vocals

Richy: guitars

I believe we finished this demo at Ira Ingber's home studio... (thanks babe)

Song #33 Leapfrog (1983)

In 1983, frustrated by multiple attempts to secure a record deal, Ira Ingber and I decided to put out our own extended play record (EP), on our own label, "Beautiful Concept Records". Attempting to push the boundaries of popular music, we were convinced that people would accept odd rhythmic timings, e.g., 7/4 or 7 beats to a measure, if the underlying beats held to a steady quarter note pulse.

We were able to record during "off hours" at my studio, Skyline Recording, and finished "Leapfrog" b/w "Funny Ha Ha, Funny Strange", after multiple late night sessions. The songs were loosely based on fables; Leapfrog nspired by "The Scorpion and the Frog", and Funny Ha Ha, Funny Strange by "The Emperor's New Clothes".

Paul Delph, created the swamp atmosphere in the opening of Leapfrog, using only his analog Prophet 10 synthesizer, as well as the pizzicato strings and talkbox fx, while Pat Mastelotto pounded out the rhythm (not easy in a 7/4 time song) with his new Simmons drums.

Ira cameo'd on bass, and of course played all the guitars.
I engineered and sang.

After raising money (no Kickstarter back then) from friends and family ($3,000), we began the journey of transferring our masterpieces onto vinyl; no mp3's in those days (too bad for us).

We brought the final mixes to legendary mastering engineer Bernie Grundman to finesse the sonic finishing touches for the lacquer master (he had to insert a "de-esser" to suppress to the “spilt second decision” s's during the bridge), created the cover art with the guidance of my godfather, Marc Davis, and the talents of Ira's then wife, Bonnie, figured out the color-separation process with the help of graphic artist and future star, Phil Hartman, and had pictures taken by the sublime Ben Swets.

I hand delivered the finished EP's to record stores, and we eventually sold about half of the the pressings (250).

Hate to sound like an old fart, but geez you kids have got it easy.
Record and mix in your bedroom, and then upload.

Get off my lily-pad!

Britt Bacon · Leapfrog

Song #32 I'm Only Driving (Don't Mind Me) (2014-2018)

Many songs I've written or co-written, have come rather quickly (no pun intended). Inspiration strikes, and within an hour, or maybe a day, a song is born. It's the finishing part of the process that can take a bit longer.

Recording, and then mixing all the pieces of the puzzle was easier when we had a limited amount of time and tracks to do so; studio time wasn't cheap, and you got used to making compromises. As we used to say, "Close enough for rock and roll".

Started this song in early 2014; my new all-electric Nissan Leaf automobile played a melody when it started up/switched on, and I decided to write a song based around the theme. The songwriting was completed in about a day, and I sent versions of it to my dear friends and amazing guitar players Alan Morse, Ira Ingber, and Richy Stano, (also known as" the AIR collective") for their instrumental contributions.They sent their files to me over the next month, and the assembling of the final song began.

Now with a digital studio at home, time is no longer the enemy of perfection, although one could argue that a mobster with a stopwatch and a gun to my head would definitely help speed things up.
Long story short, this song took much longer than anticipated, and it's still not perfect. The current version number posted is 432. And the video that should accompany it is still not complete.

No time; got to get to work.

Don't Mind Me (I'm Only Driving)

I should be so happy here driving my car
But does it make a difference that I made it this far
I can go the distance when the prospects are good
I can know this instant, and know that I could
I know I should
Not look down

But don't mind me
I'm only driving
Don't mind me
I'm only driving
Satisfied me

Make a list with pencil, or things won't get done
Only read on paper; color comics are fun
Calculate the difference every part of the day
Ignore the phantom ringtones as you're going your way
And don't they say
Don't look down

And don't mind me
I'm only driving
Don't mind me
I'm only driving
Satisfy me

Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me

It's not what you say it's what you do
It's not who you know it's who you screw
It's not impossible to become the person you never wanted to become
It's true

Look at the world not at your screen
Life is what happens when you’re not seen
Put the phone down shut up and drive
Try to enjoy just being alive

But don't mind me
I'm only driving
And don't mind me
I'm only driving
Satisfied me

Words and music by Britt Bacon ©2018

April is National Distracted Driving Awareness Month.
Be careful out there...

Alan Morse: electric guitars
Ira Ingber: electric guitars
Richy Stano: acoustic and electric guitars
Carl Sealove: electric bass
Leaf: start-up melody, turn-signals, backup sound, door slam, horn, seat cushions
Everything else: Me, me, me

Song #31: Feel the Thump (1991) + BONUS LIVE FOOTAGE

This song is not about the rabbit from Bambi, but it may make you feel as good as Thumper* ;-)

Teddy and I wrote "Feel the Thump" as an anthem for our band, "Eckey Thump". A native New Yorker, Ted was comfortable dealing with the general public, whereas I, a native Los Angeleno, would clam up and stare at the ground if I ever had to deal with a flesh and blood creature outside the confines of my car (or the studio).

When we played live, Teddy did most of the talking.

In 1986, we were in New York City, backing up Chad and Jeremy for their British Re-invasion tour, and I remember seeing two men in suits having a spirited discussion on the sidewalk just ten feet from two homeless people. In Los Angeles: suit-people would cross quickly to the other side of the street, jump in their car, and squeal out of there.

This song, about finding our humanity, with touchy-feely lyrics written not by a Californian, but by a New Yorker, is one of my favs.

Feel the Thump

Look around at all of the lonely

Deep inside the tears of a cry

Take the hands of your brothers and sisters

Feel the thump of a million lives

You can live in a world of illusion

And talk with those whose lives are alright

But peak outside at your new neighbor

Well he don't have some place to hide

Freedom of choice

Let the Red Sea part

Feel the thump of a million hearts

If you know you love her

Let the fire start

Feel the thump of a single heart

She could be anyone's mother

Why's she here no reason or rhyme

Digging through a sea of refuse

In hope to buy just a little bit more time

Look into your eyes of compassion

You can make any man feel right

Turn that round to a world population

The children sing the flames ignite

Freedom of choice

Let the Red Sea part

Feel the thump of a million hearts

If you know you love her

Let the fire start

Feel the thump of a single heart

Britt Bacon: vocals

Helena Buscema: bgs

Teddy Zambetti: drums, bgs

Michael Parnell: bass

Richy Stano: guitars

Michael Lington: sax
David Arnay: piano

Rick Geragi: percussion

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti

©1991

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

*My Godfather, Marc Davis created Thumper, and many other iconic Disney characters.

Song #30: As Hot in the Dark (1981)

Just in time for Halloween, here is a song from the dead!*

I am an admitted wimp when it comes to scary movies or haunted houses, but when Damon Leigh brought me lyrics he had created about Peter Sellers speaking from the grave, I was all in.
I love to laugh, and although Damon and I may not share political beliefs, we still share deep appreciation for a good joke, British humor, and the actor/writer/musician Peter Sellers.

Perhaps, if congress would share one amazing laugh, our country could get along better?

Damon is a true wordsmith, and a real poet; the lyrics for this song work even spoken aloud around a campfire on a fall evening. I look forward to someday fulfilling my promise to him to develop the Broadway musical we started years ago.

And if anything, Tenacious D should definitely cover "As Hot in the Dark".

In the meantime, I hear Billy Joel needs a lyricist, so if anyone out there knows Billy, please pass Damon's information on to him.

As Hot in the Dark

I've been dying to meet you

But your lines have been tied

Help me breech this disconnection

From the other side

'Cause I finally made it

Where I grow my own grass

The last scene I played it

Was six handles and brass

No I could not take the monkey

Had to leave it all behind

Where I left the silver legend

Here to flicker on your mind

I'm a rolling Moviola

Lick** the switch and hit the spark

Stop believing that it's over

I'm as hot in the dark

I put on all your faces

And I pulled off my pants

In some celluloid aces

That I laid down to chance

Now I'm digging in the garden

But I had to get back

To tell you if you're wondering

I'm still alright Jack

No I could not take the monkey

Had to leave it all behind

Where I left the silver legend

Here to flicker on your mind

I'm a rolling Moviola

Lick the switch and hit the spark

Stop believing that it's over

I'm as hot in the dark

I was the first or so she said

No not the last in Lolita's bed

I made a stranger love instead

Showing my life I played the game

Knowing the price you can pay for fame

Britt Bacon: piano, electric piano, vocals

Teddy Zambetti: drums, bgs

Alan Morse: guitars, bgs

Scott Monahan: organ, bgs

Dean Groves: bass

Written by Britt Bacon and Damon Leigh
©1981

Source: 22 tracks Ampex audio tape 30 ips +3, baked, transferred (192k), and remixed  (no auto tune).

The most hellish/scariest part is that the mix could still be better...

Happy Halloween!

*As I read the Wikipedia entry for Mr. Sellers, it gives me goosebumps realizing that he was two years younger than I am now when he died. 

** Damon's original lyrics said "click", but for some reason I sang "lick". Chalk it up to my impetuous youth.

Song #29: Make It Good (1983)

Early on, attempting to push popular music boundaries, and always "working without a net", Ira Ingber and I made a strict pact to write NO LOVE SONGS.

This song is the closest we came to violating that pact. Using one of our favorite "Twilight Zone" episodes, "It's a Good Life" as the inspiration, we crafted a "love story" where one partner does whatever it takes to keep the other partner happy.

In 1983, the Linn Drum Machine was a ubiquitous device in most recording studios. It was the first commercially available drum machine to feature well-recorded samples of actual drums. 

It did not show up late or hung-over, and didn't complain when you wanted to try (yet) another take.

The sounds could be altered in pitch, or be altered completely by physically replacing the chips that produced each sound (some Linn's had John Bonham bass and snare drum samples). 

Attempting to give some human feel to this new robot drummer, we altered the drum machine's sound by feeding it into the speakers of the main recording room, and recording the resulting sound.

Make it Good

What's your pleasure

I'm your treasure

Shall we dance in the rain

Change the landscape

Plan our best escape

We'll take the midnight train

You are here this is true

And this is good

We're alive you and I this is real

Now that is good

You can think any single thought

But make it good make it good make it good

We can make love any way you want

But make it good make it very good

I can feel you

As I touch you

Please don't be afraid

Slow my blood flow

Funny how the time goes

In locked embrace

You are here this is true

And this is good

We're alive you and I this is real

Now that is good

You can do anything you want

But make it good make it good make it good

We can make love any way you want

But make it good make it good make it good

We can be anything we're not

But make it good make it very good

We can make love any way we want

But make it good make it very good

Britt Bacon: vocals

Ira Ingber: guitars, bass, drum programming, bgs

Katy Moffatt: bgs

Mark Morgan: keyboard

Written by Britt Bacon and Ira Ingber 

©1983

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

Song #28: Ode for Ali-Baba (1989)

In 1990, Teddy and I got a band together to take our songs out of the studio, and into the real (live) world. In those days (before the Internet), we (Ted) had to go to a printshop to have flyers printed up announcing an upcoming gig, add addresses and postage to the flyers (Ted), mail the flyers (maybe me?), make a lot of phone calls (definitely Ted), and then hope that somebody would show up (both of us). 

And after all that, the audience was usually comprised of a few club regulars, band member's significant others, and maybe a die-hard friend or two. It was frustrating, but a chance to play our songs (without having to "pay to play"), and the general endorphin rush of live performance outweighed the downsides of gigging in Los Angeles.

When we scored a chance to play at "Molly Malone's" on Fairfax, we were definitely psyched. The club had a reputation for a good sound system, and an appreciative music crowd.

The night before the gig we had an amazing rehearsal; the band was really getting "tight". 

After rehearsal I realized my voice was shot. I could barely speak, but I figured I'd be fine in the morning.

Nope.

I didn't want to cancel at such short notice, as this would jeopardize our standing with the club and could damage the morale of the band, and so, with much personal trepidation and silent prayers, we took the stage when the club's MC announced "Eckey Thump!".

My wife, Sara, had brought our then one-year-old daughter Eleanore to the club that night to watch us perform. Unfortunately, the strict "21 and over only" policy forced Sara to stand just outside the door holding our baby girl.

"The show must go on" is a great motivational phrase, but the reality of being a lead singer with a broken voice was destroying my confidence, and half way through the set I was at the point of walking off the stage.

As we began the ballad "Ode for Ali-Baba", I was thankful that the band's accompaniment was sparse, and I wouldn't have push too hard to be heard. I was still quite miserable as I soldiered on through the song, and was grateful for the chance to rest during the twelve bar instrumental bridge before the last verse and chorus.

And then, in the short dramatic silence before the last verse, I heard a magical word from the back of the room: "Daddy!". Eleanore had taken advantage of the brief quiet to vocalize one of the few words she knew. The crowd laughed, and my tension, and personal torments immediately left the building. Everything was in perspective, and I finished the set feeling a lot better. I apologized to my bandmates and the crowd, thanked the couple of friends who showed up, inhaled a beer, and went home with my young family.

Later on, I remember sitting in the office of a record company executive with Teddy, as she told us how much she loved this song, and how it was a hit, but how she couldn't sign us based on one single.

Much later on (last month), when my now grown-up baby girl asked me when I was planning to post this song to the blog ("because I really like it"), I felt a flush of pride, shrugged noncommittally, and thought "August 15th... on your 25th birthday". 

Happy birthday Eleanore! You are my platinum record.

Ode for Ali-Baba

We danced to Bojangles' song

We danced to it all night long

And when the music was over

I stood all alone in the ballroom withdrawn

Her dress full and flowing fades

As we float across yesterdays

Her eyes brown and glowing

As we stare at the end of a New Orleans parade

The crowd's all around

and they gaze and they sigh

They'll never know it's time

Sing the ode for Ali-Baba has to say goodbye

Had I kept him from cutting in

We'd waltz time and time again

In three-quarter time your step inside mine

How was I so blind

I miss you Ali-Baba so

I miss you deep in my soul

I think of you so true it hurts inside me too

And now we'll never grow old

The crowd's all around

and they gaze and they sigh

They'll never know it's time

Sing the ode for Ali-Baba has to say goodbye

And I can't find the reason why

And it just isn't fair that my

My dance in New York City should end in despair

And such passion should die

Well the songs in my memory

And the ballroom will always be

Like your touch on my shoulder as I lead as I croon

Your life's inside of me

Chad Stuart: arranged and conducted the beautiful string arrangement, and played the piano and electric bass

Britt Bacon: vocals, keyboards

Teddy Zambetti: drums

???: string section

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti

©1989

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

Song #27: Wailing Wall (1988) + BONUS LIVE VIDEO VERSION

Before setting out on the path of revenge, first dig two graves.
-Chinese proverb

The conflict in the Middle East has been raging for as long as I can remember, and certainly hasn't changed much since 1988 when Teddy and I wrote this song. The cycle of violence and counter-violence continues to this day, and our thoughts and prayers continue to go out to the people of this troubled region.
The live version Richie helped create is much better (scroll down to hear/see), and more heart-felt.

Wailing Wall

deep in the hull of a gypsy plane

aloft in the mind of an airborne crane

onto Babylon

there's some Shiite to my right

on my left there's a man in flight

he just babbles on

meet my connection in Istanbul

where a two engine prop lays me down

to Jerusalem's soul

this ain't Berlin or the great great wall

but where prayers are answered

and I hear the call

I want to see what I believe

walking and a wailing

I want to be where I can feel

walking on a wailing wall

kneeling down three inches away

mumbling words I can't seem to say

it's the price you pay

make a wish and just jot it down

scroll it all up and consider it done

on a Saturday

I left my home my wife my son

searching for answers that might give 

of what's been going on

this ain't Berlin or the other one

but where prayers are answered

and I'm not just here for fun

I want to see what I believe

walking and a wailing

I want to be where I can see

walking on a wailing wall

all alone on this pilgrimage

walking and a wailing

on the verge of a single edge

walking on the wailing wall

that's all

the air is filled with a shofar sound

bringing together the lost and found

i hope it's not too late

divvy the world up in old and new

translate the words from Muslim to Jew 

at the mercy gate

I fought and lost my own six day war

liberated from the inner claw

on a see-saw

pull out the bench lay down the cards

it's time to head home

where ever you are in the end

Britt Bacon: vocals, piano

Alan Morse: guitars, bgs

Teddy Zambetti: drums, bgs

Ritt Henn: bass

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti

©1988

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

BONUS! 

Here is a live version from 1991. This was the opening song of our set.

Britt Bacon: vocals, guitar

Richy Stano: guitar

Teddy Zambetti: drums

Rick Geragi: percussion

Michael Parnell: bass

Michael Lington: sax

Helena Buscema: bgs

video filmed by Sara Bacon

Song #26: Card Fever Strikes (1983) + BONUS TRACK

The sound you hear at the very beginning of this song is a manual credit card imprint machine.
Until about 20 years ago, this machine was commonly used by vendors when you "paid" for something with a credit card.

I recorded it using my Sony Walkman. 
I remember asking a gas station attendant if I could record the sound of the machine, and he kindly complied; "Like this?",  he said. I said, "uh huh".

Time flies even if you're not having fun.  All this seems like it just happened yesterday.

But don't worry kids; in the not too distant future we'll be embarrassed at how crappy our iPhone 5s' were, and reminisce about how we used to drive cars.

One thing that won't go out of style is debt; PIN numbers will just be replaced by DNA markers.

Card Fever Strikes

I was the first one on my block

They said I was worth a million

I got a plastic piece of the rock

The postman said "spend the money"

I'll spend the money

I'm just a normal kind of guy

And there were some things I needed

I bought a Vett to catch her eye

And I'm starting to get conceited

Card fever strikes

Sign your name and you're good as gold

Card fever strikes

Push the limit 'til there's nothing you don't own

Card fever strikes

We flew to lunch in Barbados

And ordered Jamaican bananas

Then caught a late show back on the coast

Next day déjeuner in Atlanta

Card fever strikes

Sign your name and you're good as gold

Card fever strikes

Push the limit 'til there's nothing you don't own

Card fever strikes

Use the phone and you won't leave home

Card fever strikes  

Air card

Rent a card

Gas card

Eat card

Store card

Hotel card

Bank card

Phone card

"Excuse me sir

But I've got to check and see if you card is lost stolen or invalid"

Now I'm on everybody's list

I guess I'm a shinning example

They'll sell me anything I've missed

And there's never a charge for a sample

Britt Bacon: vocals
Ira Ingber: guitars, bass, bgs
Mark Morgan: synths
Pat Mastelotto: drums
Danny Jacob: bgs, guitar
Amy Smith: voiceover

Written by Britt Bacon and Ira Ingber
© 1983

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips


BONUS TRACK!

I came home last year to hear a strange message on my voice-mail, and I couldn't resist putting it to music...

© 2012

Song #25: The World Keeps Turning (1987)

I grew up in Los Angeles, California, and still live here. Having traveled the world I know there are some amazing places to live on this earth, but all things considered, outside of the occasional earthquake and the traffic (which totally sucks), L.A.'s a pretty cool place. And, as Steve Martin said in one of my favorite movies, "there are some buildings here over twenty years old".

This city is constantly changing.

It's strange sometimes driving down a street I haven't negotiated for a while, to see a landmark building from my youth razed to become a strip mall. I picture the ghost of my younger self wandering around the CVS pharmacy that's now on the corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica, saying, "what happened to the roller disco?".

Today is my birthday, so unfortunately I have missed the self-imposed deadline to finish this blog before I turn 56. Oh well. Life goes on, and I should be able to post the remaining 20 songs before I turn 57.
Unless there's another earthquake.

The World Keeps Turning

I could sink or swim

It sure wouldn't bother you

Is it tonic or gin

Your eyes wouldn't give a clue

In this world where the choices are few

In this world you kiss your own blacks and blues

I could scream I could shout it at you

But it won't make a difference

It don't make a difference to you

I could leave or stay

You could live with it either way

If the world is a play

Well then what did the director say

In this world you're living in a zoo

In this world you're nobody's fool

I could scream I could shout it at you

But it won't make a difference

It don't make a difference to you

The world keeps turning

Needless to say

You exist you exhaust

Well egocentricity

Is it Sartre or Marx

Existentuality what does that mean

In this world we decide between two

In this world you're a jester or fool

I could scream I could shout it at you

But it won't make a difference

It don't make a difference to you

The world keeps turning

Needless to say

I know about humanity

But you want it your way

The debt grows

And there's a price to pay

Give and take must be the key

But you want it your way

The time has come
And things can't stay the same

Britt Bacon: piano, synth, vocal

Teddy Zambetti: drums, BGs
Richy Stano: guitars

Alan Morse: guitars, BGs

Ritt Henn: bass

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti
© 1987

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

Song #24: Sin It Away (1985)

This is the first song Teddy Zambetti and I wrote, and it established the template for the songs we would create together in the future.

We actually "wrote together". Teddy supplied a snippet of a chord progression, and I fleshed it out on piano while he accompanied on drums. At some point I started singing a melody with whatever words came out (mostly nonsense) whilst recording the proceedings on my Sony Walkman.
Teddy took the tape home, and the next time we met, he had lyrics. He told me that he wrote down "what it sounded like I was singing". 

Being the good New York Italian-American boy he was, Teddy went to Catholic schools all the way through Georgetown University.
My parents, escaping their rigid Episcopalian Ohioan upbringing, brought me up with Zen Buddhism, and Unitarianism. When I was nine years old, and my best friend Tommy Aiani told me I was going to hell, I spent about a week freaking out, (even going so far as to attend a Sunday School class) before realizing that if God was going to be that mean to a nine-year-old, I didn't want any part of it.

Teddy and I talked about everything including sex and politics, but never about religion. This could have been an unspoken  "don't ask don't tell" kind of policy, but I think we understood that personal spiritual stuff was just that: personal.
When Teddy presented the lyrics for this song I was gobsmacked. Pretty heady stuff.

In Song #19 I wrote about my friend Eckart.
One evening, as we were figuring out the world in front of the fireplace of the Lake Sherwood house we shared, Eckart said something that rang true with me:
"Jesus already died for our sins. We don't have to kill ourselves anymore."

This made good sense, and I felt safe. Perhaps I wouldn't be going to hell after all.

I've often heard other writers tell of "being visited by the muse", and from personal experience I know writing can feel like a divine intervention ("where did that come from?"), but for the most part it's just hard work. It would be fun to say that Teddy transcribed the lyrics I "channeled", but I'd rather leave that job to my remarkable sister.

Sin It Away

You say that you don't love me

I don't believe it true

You say you're gonna prove it

Now look what you go and do

The angels from on heaven

Won't save you from your plight

Pray with all your might

Worship your favorite icon

Drink the milk of the sacred cow

While the turmoil of existence

Needs answered the question "how"

And the damage you inflict on you

Are the wounds that never bled

These actions that can only say

What we have never said

Sin it away

Sin it away from you

Well sin it away

Sin it a way you do

Now sin it away

Sin it away from you

It's all that you have to do

The lessons that they taught you

What your Momma felt inside

What your parents called religion

What your Poppa claims is pride

Through the trials and tribulations

You can't be taught in Sunday School

How your heart was broke in two

So you seek to find redemption

Find a hole to crawl and hide

Let your soul fall to temptation

Try to mask the hurt inside

Through the world of good and evil

Black and white begins to grey

Through the one night stands

And do drop ins

The memories will fade

From the dawn of man and woman

People sinned their hurts away

From the moment that you said goodbye

You chose to go that way

I offer sanctuary from indecision within you

You choose

You can pay for meditation

Or come sit right down next to me

Til the holy war subsides

And our crusade has come to be

And the sermon that I preach

Don't make me holier than you

Cause your method is my madness

Yes I have been out there too

Britt Bacon: piano, synth, vocal

Teddy Zambetti: drums, bgs

Alan Morse: guitar, bgs

Ritt Henn: bass

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti

© 1985

Song #23: Calling Out to Juliette (1988)

In the days before Pro Tools or GarageBand, having access to a multi-track recording studio was a luxury few musicians had.
Owning a studio gave me access, but paying clients always came first, so I recorded during "off" hours (usually late at night), and rarely had the luxury of perfecting a performance or a mix. The recordings of songs on this blog were as good as we could get them given the time allotted, or as we used to say: "close enough for rock and roll".
To many musicians, the benchmark for great rock an roll recordings was the Beatles first album, which was recorded in one long day at EMI studios. The band was very "tight" having spent many nights performing live at the Cavern Club, so when it came time to record George Martin recalled, "It was a straightforward performance of their stage repertoire — a broadcast, more or less."

I attempted to replicate this method of recording, with a new line-up of the band "Eckey Thump" Teddy and I assembled in 1990. We rehearsed religiously, and played gigs around Los Angeles until we had achieved a level of tightness that I felt would qualify us to record "Beatles style".

At the same time I was winding down my partnership at the studio, and our Neve V series console was going to be "returned" to Siemens, so I "booked" the band for a full day of recording.

The resulting tracks from this session are mostly live and in the spirit of "what would the Beatles do?" or WWBD?

In the spirit of transparency, the recording of this song is actually a blend of two versions we recorded; an earlier version with french horn, and the mostly live WWBD version.

Teddy Zambetti's lyrics were often about love; requited, unrequited, obsessive, and in retrospect quite precocious: this song evokes a divorce with children, and Teddy wasn't even married...

Being in a band is like being in a polygamous marriage (but without the sex), and breaking up is hard to do. When we dissolved Eckey Thump in the early 90's, I was as sad as after a good love relationship gone bad.

Calling Out to Juliette

You told me I was lying 

'bout my thoughts of you

You're reading the writing 

Between the lines of the truth

The singing and the sighing 

Pulled our hearts in tune

The feeding and the fighting 

Ripping those memories in two

The seasons are hiding

The rain falling between the leaves

The echo so blinding

Calling out to Juliette

The children are growing 

Without knowing you

Their questions unfolding 

Daddy how come how soon

If I told you of my findings 

Would I break the rules

You're stubborn as a diamond

Cutting the glass I see through

The seasons are hiding

The rain falling between the leaves

The echo so blinding

Calling out to Juliette

In a lullaby

I can close my eyes

And the sleep will come

Until the morning sun

In a lullaby

I could sing my lines

In a lullaby

I can sing to a distant hum

Your mother and your father

Broke the news to me

You're living with another

Somebody set me free

The seasons are hiding

The rain falling between the leaves

The echo so blinding

Calling out to Juliette

Britt Bacon: vocals

Helena Buscema: bgs

Teddy Zambetti: drums

Michael Parnell: bass

Richy Stano: guitars

Michael Lington: sax

Written by Britt Bacon and Teddy Zambetti

©1988

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips

Song #22: The Soul of a New Machine (1982)

In 1967 I was 10 years old, and  there was a cool television show called "The 21st Century", hosted by Walter Cronkite.

I couldn't wait until the year 2000...

Flying cars, lasers, and computers!

At my (public) middle school, "Patrick Henry Jr. High", we were lucky enough to have a Computer Lab equipped with some first generation calculators, and a Teletype Model 33 ASR teleprinter keyboard with punched tape reader and punch. We wrote programs using the BASIC programming language, and literally fed them into the Model 33 where it communicated with a mainframe computer off campus, and we waited for the results to return.

In 1982, Ira Ingber and I read "The Soul of a New Machine", by Tracy Kidder, and were inspired by this true story of the new computer pioneers. Their work resonated with our work as we toiled for hours in the darkness of the recording studio, and experimented with the new ways of music production using the MIDI protocol, and synthesizers.

One musician who was on the leading edge of these techniques was Paul Delph, and we were blessed with his sonic contributions to many of our songs. All the sounds (including drums) you hear on this track were created by Paul, except for the usual blazing guitars of Mr. Ira Ingber.

Ira and used to halfheartedly joke that in the future, we would be able to record an album on a watch.

Thirty-one years later the technological contributions of countless pioneers have brought some amazing benefits to our lives; I am writing this blog on my back porch with an iPad2, and the iPhone 5S can run 64 tracks of GarageBand.

But dammit: where's my flying car?

The Soul of a New Machine

You've got the data all behind you

You took the phone apart when you were just a child

And now all the lessons have been learned

And your imagination runs wild

Stuck in a windowless pit with the micro-kids

In silent darkness invented codes reveal

Secret veins of distance and time

And your imagination runs wild

The moon controls the tides

Synchronized program at the core of memory

The moon controls the tides

What controls the logic in the soul of a new machine

Even the experts stare in wonder

Is this mechanism corporeal

It has the human touch concealed

Cause your imagination ran wild

The moon controls the tides

Synchronized program at the core of memory

The moon controls the tides

What controls the logic in the soul of a new machine

I can't stop I can't sleep

I can't taste the food that I eat

Alone with my madness

Just like a man in love

Britt Bacon: vocals

Ira Ingber: guitars, bgs

Paul Delph: Prophet 10 keyboard

Written by Britt Bacon and Ira Ingber

©1982

Source: 1/4" analogue tape 30ips