Songs That Get Stuck In Your Head

Did you ever get a song stuck in your head?

A song that you hate?

A song that would make you risk breaking your finger when you poke it at the radio to change the station?

It happened to me the one night, in the worst way.

I was in a hotel room in Houston Texas.

It was ten something when I went to bed with a full tank of Guinness.

I had to be up at 3 am to get picked up by the shuttle so I could fly home.

I was so worried that I'd over-sleep, that I couldn't really sleep at all.

The clock on the bedstand had these big red digital numbers.

I would sleep for 15 minutes, look at the clock, sleep for a few more minutes, then look at the clock again.

Somewhere in there... the song, "MY EYES ADORED YOU," by Frankie Vallie, popped into my booze riddled, sleep-deprived head.

12:47

"MY EYES ADORED YOU... THOUGH I NEVER LAID A HAND ON YOU..."

1:10

"LIKE A MILLION MILES AWAY FROM ME, YOU COULDN'T SEE HOW I ADORED YOU."

JESUS! I HATE THAT FRIGGIN SONG!!!!"

1:28 "LIKE A MILLION MILES AWAY FROM ME..."

ARGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

I got up and took a leak.

While returning my rented beer, or "un-drinking," as I call it, I realize that I'm humming... "CARRIED YOUR BOOKS FROM SCHOOL..."
(how do I know all the words to a song I can't stand?)

I get back to bed, sleep for a little while, and I'm friggin' DREAMING THE FUGGING SONG!

YOU WERE 16, I WAS SIX..." or whatever the fuggin words are....

I HATE that song!

But it wouldn't leave me alone!

Somewhere around 2 AM I began praying to God, "DEAR GOD! PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!!!"

I fell back to sleep, and woke up at 2:18.

Clear as a bell in my head, I could hear Frankie Vallie go into "SWEARING TO GOD."

I felt like killing somebody. I never did get back to sleep.

I got into the shuttle and the driver had the radio on. He was listening some oldies station, and I made him turn it off.

I truly belive that if a Frankie Vallie song came on, I might have killed him.

If You're Over 50...This One's For You

How did this happen to me?
I used to be cool!
Getting old wasn't supposed to happen to ME!!!
I used to run like the wind.
Now I grunt and fart when I tie my shoes.

I tell people to slow down.
I tell kids to stay out of my yard.I've actually kept the ball!

It's hard to admit that I'm not young any more, that I'm slower and rounder, and lazier too.
I have a remote control for my friggin air conditioner!
Jesus, how lazy do you have to be to say, "It's too friggin' hot for me. I don't wanna walk all the way across this room, ...Where's my AC remote?"

I actually keep THREE TV remotes in my living room, because I'm too lazy to look for them when they get lost.

When I was a kid every house had one TV, one phone, one stereo, and that was it.
No remote.
Back then, I was the remote.
My father used ME as the remote control.
He'd say,"What the hell is this show? Mod Squad? KENNY! Turn on channel 7, Gunsmoke is on!"

We had an antenna on the roof with motor on it, and we thought that was cool.
There was a big dial on top of the TV, and you had to turn the dial to get the antenna to go around.
It made a noise like this: "Gadderrzh-ditt!... Gadderrzh-ditt!... Gadderrzh-ditt!"
...And you had to stand there and wait.
If a plane flew over the house, it would screw up the whole picture.
My 45 records and my albums were my prized possessions.
Now I love my i-pod instead. But I miss the album covers! Don't you?
Why can't they sell Cd's inside full sized album covers?

My generation used to smoke grass and take acid.
Now we mow the grass and take antacids.

I've pretty much given up playing gigs in bars.
I found myself wanting to go to bed after the 2nd set. once I had to delay the set because my ibuprofen fell behind my amp.

I wonder how many gigs I've done in my life... More than a thousand?
Maybe. Probably.
The Rolling Stones are way older than me and they're still rockin'.
I wonder if Keith Richards grunts and farts when he ties his shoes?
"Excuse me Mick I have to tie my shoe.." ffffFFFRRRAAAMMPPP!, (Grunting with an English accent)

Do you think Keith or Mick use Viagra?Why not? They've tried every other drug.
But they probably crush it up and snort it.

I once ran an eighteen mile road race.
Now when the pizza guy comes to the door, I make my kid answer it.

Half a century has gone by. How did this happen to me?
I used to have so much energy. Now if I walk down to the sub shop I need a nap.
The other day I drove for three exits before realizing that I left my directional on.
That's a bad sign, isn't it?
I know who Petula Clarke IS! That's how old I am.
Wait a minute, I gotta tie my shoe... bbbBRRAAAMPHFF!!! (grunt) excuse me!

I've been wondering...Is it okay for me to still look at girls, or am I just a perverted old man now?They don't look back any more anyways.

If I go to the beach Greenpeace tries to roll me back into the ocean.
I can never relax because I have to dodge the harpoons.
I can see Japanese fishing trawlers in the distance, waiting.

At least I still have hair.
Most of my friends have to put sun-block on their heads.
Think of the money I've saved on sun-blocking my head!

And at least I'm alive. Some of my friends aren't.

Mentally I don't feel any different.I'm still just as mental and different as I used to be.
My birthday is coming up on the fourth of July.
I hope the candles on the cake don't set off the smoke alarms.

Maybe I should buy loafers.

Block your nose. I gotta tie my shoe.

Making My Own Album (and what I learned from it)

Making My Own Solo Album – And What I Learned From It

One day I woke up to find that I was 50 years old. OUCH!!!
How could this happen to ME???

I looked in the rear view mirror of my life, (objects in this mirror are larger than they appear)
and saw that I had spent over 30 years playing music (mostly to drunk people) in various bands in
countless places.
Most of those places are gone now.
I asked myself, “So what do you have to show for all those years?”
I answered myself, “Not so much.”

So, in 2006, I made some New Year’s Resolutions:

(1.) I would stop doing live gigs. (Nobody seemed to notice anyways)

(2.) I would take a year to record my own album.
I promised myself that I’d record one song per month, until I got 12 songs, equaling one CD.

Sounds good, right?

That “one year,” lasted for over three years.

Next...

I converted a spare bedroom, into my “studio.”
Luckily, I have a very understanding and supportive wife.
She said that as long as the ironing board could stay in there, it was cool with her.

I was on a very low, almost non-existent budget.
I had no band, nor did I want to go through the aggravation of building one. (had enough of that)
I decided that I would sing and play all the parts myself.
Recording almost all of the tracks alone was harder than I ever could have imagined.
There were many obstacles.
For one thing, I wasn’t very good at playing all the instruments myself. That didn’t stop me from
trying though.

Gear

I used one eight track hard disc recorder, (a used Zoom 1044MRS)
A Variax 700 – The most useful home recording instrument in the world.
Two Fender Telecasters
A Gibson Jumbo acoustic
A Fender Resonator (slide guitar)
A Fender Jazz Bass
A Fluke Ukulele
A Bestler Mandolin
Lee Oscar Harmonicas
Kawai K2 Synthesizer
Pod XT Live Effects pedal
Rat distortion pedal
Rob Keeler’s “brown box” overdrive pedal
Three Zoom drum machines
Various Microphones
1 rug with Elvis Presley's face on it

I didn’t use any guitar amplifiers at all. I used a few effects pedals and plugged directly into the
board.

I did not use pro-tools software, or any other computer programs.
There was no pitch correction on the vocals, no compressors or equalizers, no samplers, or midi
sequencing, no fancy technological tricks.

Obstacles

There never seemed to be enough time. Scheduling recording time, even in my own house, was
difficult.
So where will you find the time you need to record?
It's simple. Give up watching TV. TV sucks anyways, so why not do something more productive?

The noise in my neighborhood was a real obstacle too. It seemed that every time I plugged a
microphone in, there was a barking dog, screaming kids, lawnmowers, chainsaws, motorcycles,
trucks, jets, screeching blue jays, telephones, doorbells, helicopters, and sirens.
All of the above made guest appearances on my recordings.

There were lots of overdubs, lots of bouncing tracks, lots of erasing, lot’s of giving up and starting
all over again.
Lot’s of lonely decisions were made.
Lot’s of things got kicked. Lot’s of things got thrown at walls.
Pacing and swearing were regular events. Cats were yelled at.
I had no band to argue with, nobody steering my song into unknown directions.
I did enough of that all by myself.
I had to depend on myself, and I often doubted myself.
I was free to record in any style I wanted to try, and I tried quite a few.

Lessons learned:

I learned that some days are creative days and some days just aren’t.
I learned that writing and recording are two different things.
I found out that just because you wrote it, doesnt mean its good, but if it IS good you will feel it.
It’s important to tune into your feelings and trust them. Open up, and remain open.

If you leap, a net will appear.
Some songs want to be born. Let them tell you what they want to be.

Perfection is not only impossible, it’s undesirable. Real music has warts.
Music is NOT JUST MATH. The feeling is much more important than the math.
Trust your feelings. Always play what feels best.

I learned to go into my studio wearing different hats on different days.
I would be an engineer one day, a producer the next, a studio musician or singer the day after that.
Wiring things and troubleshooting destroy the creative mood.
I learned that happy people make better music.

I learned that ear fatigue is a nasty enemy, and you will lose whenever you fight it.

I learned that playing and listening at low volumes prevents ear fatigue.
If a song sounds good when it’s loud, it should sound good when turned down too.
You shouldn’t have to turn it up to feel it.
I learned never to track and mix on the same day.

I learned to quit when I was ahead, and happy.
I learned to walk away and give it a rest when I got stuck.
I learned that some answers need time before they reveal themselves, but they usually reveal
themselves.
I learned that recording should never be a race.
I also learned that perseverance and failure cannot coexist.
Determination is a strong slow powerful thing.

It's your song.
Only you know if you're doing the very best you can.
If you are doing the very best you can, don't take shit from anybody!

As I went along I noticed that I was developing methods.
Soon I found that I had a style of recording which came about on its own.
During your best take- the phone will ring, the dog will bark, the furnace will kick in, you will burp,
fart, etc... SAVE YOUR WORK OFTEN.

For every song I began, there were two or three that I gave up on.
For every song I finished, there were two or three songs I just didn’t like.
I think that if you like everything you write, you might not be seeing things clearly.

Over Three Years Later…

I ended up with over 35 songs recorded on that small machine, in fact I maxed it out. (Disc Full!)
When the machine was out of memory I took that as a sign to quit.
I stopped, and picked the 14 songs I would use for my album.

Some songs took a week or two to finish, some took as long as four months, and several never got
finished at all.

After three years of hard work, it’s done.
Now that it’s done, I’m proud of the hard work I did, but I can clearly see the mistakes I made.
It’s no masterpiece. That’s OK. I know that I tried as hard as I could.

At times it was a lot of fun, and at times it was exasperating, but I’m glad I did it.
People may like it or dislike it, there’s nothing I can do about that either way.
It’s their decision, not mine.

I made my resolutions and I kept them. (even if it took 3 times longer than I thought it would)
I did it. No one can take that away from me.

Fool that I am, I'll do it all over again.
Round and round we go...

Scrabble - Another Crazy Band Story

One time down in Springfield back in the early eighties, we were staying at this big old run down hotel.

Outside the hotel was a big sign which faced the highway.
Thousands of people read this sign every day.

It had removable letters, BIG REMOVABLE LETTERS.

The sign said

ALL YOU CAN EAT BREAKFAST HERE!

(in big removable letters)

After a gig one night, my drummer said, "Ooh! I got an idea!

Let me stand on your shoulders!"

So I did.

He got up on my shoulders and took all the letters off the sign.

Then he spread the letters out on the hood of a car and played scrabble with them.

He got back on my shoulders and put the letters back up.

Here;s what we read the next morning and for three more days before they finally changed it:

HEY BALLFACE!

South Carolina Emergency Room

Fate leads me into some funny circumstances.

These things can only happen to me.

I was not hurt or sick, but without going into the reason why, I found myself in South Carolina on Saturday night, waiting for a cab, in front of the emergency room of hospital.

I was pissed off because I didn't want to be there, waiting for that cab, which was late.

I was there a long time.

The people who came in and out of the emergency room though... they were very interesting.

I saw people bleeding, and people who got carried in unconscious.

I saw babies crying, and drunk people staggering around yelling. I saw an old woman in a wheel chair who didn't know where she was.

But the most astonishing and funniest thing was a conversation I heard.

Three kids about 16 years old with heavy heavy southern accents. One kid was big and fat, about 16 years old, wearing a straw fishing hat with the ends poking out all over the place like huck Finn. The next kid -skinny as a rail with a straw cowboy hat and feathers on it, and this little kid who must have been about 10. He looked pretty normal.

Here's the conversation;

Fat Kid: "Oooooh is she gonna be mad atchyooo!"

Cowboy kid: "Why the hell should she be mad at me? I didn't tell him to eat it!"

Normal kid: "I cain't believe he didn't spit it out!"

Fat Kid: "Well he's the crazy ass who ate it!"

Cowboy kid: "It ain't mah fault! I didn't make him eat it!"

Fat kid: "She is gonna be so pissed atchyoo!"

Normal kid: "I really thought he was gonna spit it out... cain't believe he ate it!"

The cab came. I got in.

I have no idea what the hell that was all about.

A Message From Throbbing Weasel Records

Hi Ken,

My name is Johnny Marriott. I am a Director of A&R for Throbbing Weasel Records. A very independent record label, entertainment public relations and marketing company. We are so independent that nobody knows who the hell we are.


Today while searching for bands and solo artists in Star market, (which is what BIG A&R guys do all day long) I came across your music online. I listened to your music, and I got a boner. The song that caught my attention was “Eating Uncooked Chicken”. That WAS you, wasn't it?
The guitar work tightened my pants from the inside, and the vocal work made me go to the park and watch young boys. The voices work very well together, like mustard and whipped cream. I even peed a little.

It is important for you to know that each band I send this to, has been remembered by hand by me before they are contacted. I just don’t have time to write every one of you a personal message. I am just too important for that.

We are currently working on a Campaign called "Say No To Nose Picking." We are creating a series of publicity campaigns called "PICKERS AGAINST PICKING”. In the next calendar year, Throbbing Weasel Records will be producing large marketing and exposure projects in over 40 cities across the United States, and the musicians that are involved with this project will be getting loads.

(of publicity from me)

Yours Truly, and panting like a fat girl with a Thighmaster,

Johnny Marriott

Throbbing Weasel Records

Praying

Praying is like broadcasting,
and hoping someone is listening.

Today's broadcast:
"Dear God: Thanks for my heartbeat."
(each and every one)

And when that eventually stops,
I'd like to be with you,
and any other listeners I may have.


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[Click here and go to heaven]