The Long Holidays of course have a drink that we endorse
A sure and simple recipe
It's easy to make
but a heavy toll it takes
one part whiskey for me
The bass gets a taste, the singer gets three fingers
We need a drink to unlock the keys.
At the end of the set, the trumpet and the drums hum
"one part whiskey for me!"
One part whiskey, one part whiskey
one part whiskey for me.
One part whiskey, one part whiskey
one part whiskey for me.
I was breaking down my gear, when she appeared,
Said her name was Sally McPhee.
Red hair and green eyes sealed my demise
with a one part whiskey for me.
We were kissing at last call, from what I can recall.
And my last memory
was stumbling three blocks to her place down by the docks
for a one part whiskey for me.
(chorus)
When I was awoken, my nose was broken
I was on boat far out at sea.
My wallet was stolen and my brain was swolen.
I cursed Sally McPhee.
When I spoke her name a sailer said ashamed
How do you think we came to be.
A fishing and a wishing for a ration with a passion
a one part whiskey for me.
(chorus)
New songwriter challenge from Mattijs!
Lyrics:
On the day a man is born
you are to play a horn.
The brass will crash
and we will smoke cigars.
But on the day he dies
you ought to play the pipes
with a little bit of snare and nothing more.
But who will play the pipes for the piper?
What will we do on that day down the line?
Will we miss the booming fifths,
the gloomy pentatonic riffs,
or will we get on just fine?
On the day my father went
the money had been spent
on the doctors and the lawyers
and his first and third ex-wives.
The piper wouldn't take a dime
for Amazing Grace in three-quarter time.
Despite the day, it made me feel alive.
(Chorus)
(Instrumental)
(Chorus)
On the day the piper passed
he took that bag of gas.
We hummed and strummed
the best we knew.
But heaven sent him down
and the devil couldn't stand the sound.
He popped out of the ground as good as new.
Here's a great picture of Viking Funeral from this past weekend's house party. Things got a little crazy.
So, the official return of the Long Holidays is underway and heating up! We have a bunch of new songs about San Diego friends, Los Angeles seasonality, lighting dry Christmas trees on fire at the beach, and girl problems involving campus doppelgangers. Obviously, we want to start working on a new record. Unfortunately to do this we'll need to use some money.
Here are some funding ideas that I came up with.
1. Andy has a swear jar on stage.
2. Charge rental fees for Viking Funeral percussion.
3. Charge Joe Kittenger to change factual errors in 'Project Manhigh'.
4. Brew and sell Long Holidays brand beer.
5. Sell all accumulated Oak Street Blues kazoos back to Oak Street Blues.
6. Go to Vegas, put all Through Two Lenses EP profit on black. (47.37% chance of winning $60!)
7. Sell organs, both instruments and body parts.
8. Become a successful pub trivia team. Take crooked money to take a fall. Place money on ourselves. Win. Run.
A couple of fortnights ago I wrote a song inspired by Thomas Edison's wax cylinder, made famous by such luminaries as They Might Be Giants, and every recording musician before the flat plate kind of records. The first words recorded on the phonographic cylinder was a recitation of Mary Had A Little Lamb. This is what I imagine came next.
Thanks to Me The Nomad, Oak Street Blues, and everyone who come out to make this our best show yet. Tell your friends about us and our regular BrewCo shows if you indeed liked the night.
Dopplebanger
This is the type of situation that happens to everyone at least once in their life. ? . When someone you like turns you down, but starts dating someone who looks exactly like you, except a bit fatter. Now this is one of those super-true stories from my life, that I didn't exaggerate for comedic effect, or fully make up because my stable love-life doesn't give me a lot of funny stuff to write about.
I don't have to do these things because... We've all been there. Am I right fellas!?
Don't yell back at your computer. I can't hear you, and I'm already done writing this. I can't respond.
Even though this heartbreak is months, no years, nay a decade old, I only just thought to write about it last week. I brought some freshly penned lyrics and my heavy head to Ridders Van Rijnauwen , an incredible Dutch band, and they agreed to help me get this off my chest.
What we ended up with was a pretty decent tune that I can't wait to bring home to the Long Holidays in two weeks.
Lyrics...
I was drinking, and smoking,
and drinking some more.
Someone said
they'd seen me before.
"No that wasn't me
playing Ultimate-Frisbee.
But I know the impostor!"
Forget the poetry I sent her
Forget the ballads that I sang her
She chose a guy from the same cut as I
Sleeping with my dopplebanger
I had a coffee
and I had a scotch.
Remembered the times
when we used to watch
old Sci-Fi
and get really high
throwing empty bottles by the docks
(Chorus)
(Instrumental Verse)
(Chorus)
While I walked it off
by chance I found
myself in a mirror
with a few extra pounds.
While shaking hands
I asked 'How was the dance".
Guess I'll go and make it one more round
(Chorus)
I filmed this on my lunch at work. The Utrecht botany garden is super awesome and pretty.
Suburban Coyote is a great song that you can have.
http://thelongholidays.bandcamp.com ... will get you this song for free!
http://open.spotify.com/track/7JJItNmc8GwiBuiQ1e4rOI listen on SPOTIFY!
When Blue from Hello The Future, tweeted challenging me to write a song about Thomas Edison's Wax cylinder, my imagination began to run wild. I thought of the world before the invention of recorded music. How would I function in this world? Probably poorly. She had previously let me know about an awesome They Might Be Giants session recorded on wax cylinder , so this was not out of the blue... so to speak.
I recently read Anna Karenina (not for high school, just for fun #teamlevin), and those dudes went to Operas all the time. I wouldn't be able to handle that much live theater. In fact I'll tell you the play that broke me on the medium. It was a 40 minute one act about 5 famous scientists stuck in a space-time-prison/distopian-landscape and slowly going insane. Way to go playwright. I read a brief history of time too! Spoiler alert: They open the box... or do they?
Other than that, you could invite a chamber choir into your house for a salon. You would need to ignore the fact that it's never a good idea to invite musicians into your house. We're kind of like vampires. We need to be invited, but after that we can fully use our powers of mooching and noise-making. You know that Christmas song "We Wish You a Merry Christmas"? Point made.
If human contact really isn't your thing, your only real option was to own a player piano... obviously the best option so far.
A possible alternate to the player piano
Fortunately for all of us non-theater-enjoying, automated-music-owning, chasing musicians-off-your-porch-with-a-broom folks out there Thomas Edison invented the wax cylinder recording device. The first words spoken were "Mary Had a Little Lamb". That gave way to records, digital music, and podcasts. Ah, to have the soothing sounds of a Kwakiutl shaman coughing bloody feathers into his hand, me driving the California coast, a coffee precariously placed between my knees, holding hands with my lovely girlfriend. Much better than trudging through the snow to see some stuffy Opera.
Enjoy the song.
Thomas Sang
Bm
The nights were cold
A
We trudged up hill both ways in the snow
G F#
with the whale oil smoke in your eyes
Bm
We felt so old
A
Watching clowns and lovers play
G
and sing ungodly hours away
A F#
'til I was raging blind
Bm F# Bm
and nearly lost my mind
G A A7
But then Thomas sang
Bm A
mary had a little lamb
G A
The tubes set his voice to grooves
F# Bm
And it was crushed to bits
G A
Thomas
A7 Bm A
Sang Mary Had a Little Lamb
G A F#
those magnetic ones and o's
Bm F# Bm
Just barely saved my mind
So long to paper scrolls
Gershwin's robotic ghost
So long to chamber choirs
Sitting by the fire
with my one true love
Sipping coffee and listening
To an indian man
cough feathers into his hand
Thomas
Sang Mary had a little lamb
The tubes set his voice to grooves
And it was crushed to bits
Thomas
Sang Mary had a little lamb
those magnetic ones and o's
just barely saved my mind.
Cm A# G# G
Cm G Cm
Through Two Lenses EP – Name Your Own Price
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