It’s been a long time coming, but the Bicycle Eaters (band I’m in) is finishing up its first full album. Here’s the gorgeous treatment of Wasted Ones (or, Emaline) that I posted here as uke-only years ago when I first wrote it. Wasted Ones/House Made of Cake by Bicycle Eaters
This is an old recording I just re-discovered of the first full song I wrote with the ukulele. It is so strange and wonderful to hear the night sounds in the background. That mixture is specific to the back patio of the old Holland House. It makes me feel like home in a way that is so special.
The song itself is about meeting special people in special places and then leaving them there. I think any regular traveler with a heart full for romance will get what I’m talking about.
I gave myself about thirty minutes to write song about three seconds worth of thought yesterday as a challenge for back porch art night. This little guy probably needs to be arranged differently, but it was fun to write something on a deadline and without the usual style I like to write in.
This photo is unrelated to the song, but I’m pretty in love with it right now.
I think my mood is shifting back into silly songs mode, so some more ditties like this old gal might be what’s next. It’s spring!!
I think dogs are super cool and have depth beyond our assumptions. Which, I guess, explains why this is not the first song I have written with a canine muse. Is that weird? Maaaybe.
Last November, a lovely friend of mine gave me the fantastic present of peaceful escapism. As a thank you for her kindness, I wrote her a song inspired by her doggie and sent her this little recording with the ukulele chords so she could play along at home (uke people attract uke people I think) for the pup.
This recording has a whistle solo that really shows off my total lack of talent in that particular area, so I’m really excited to share.
Both big and little ants have been trying to step up their artsy game for the season of lent. Part of that includes forcing ourselves to get in the habit of not just consuming, but creating regularly. Little ant has a nice writing program going on, but I have been having a harder time figuring
My little pup turned 11 years old over the weekend! To celebrate the sweetest edition to my life since little ant (aww), I dug up an old song inspired by Rogue the dog.
A few years ago, I lived in a house where Rogue could be left outside in the backyard thanks to a huge fence and a low-traffic area. I left her out one beautiful day before walking down to my favorite watering hole, only to have the beautiful day overcome by thunderstorms while I was inside and unaware. After running home through the rain, the saddest ball of wet shivers ran up to me from under the patio table- ranking that night one of my top 5 Worst Pet Owner moments. I muddled up our stories and added a pinch of hyperbole to write this song.
This week I have escaped to a cold empty beach on the border of Alabama and Mississippi. I walked down to the beach this evening and not only did I fail to pass a single soul on the walk to the ocean, but I couldn’t see even a flashlight bobbing on the beach in either direction. The absolute quiet and remoteness of this place has a very serious presence that is almost a companion in itself. Creepy sounding? Maybe a bit.
Adieu False Heart is a traditional parlour song that was written in the late 1800’s with an assumed southern/creole influence. Adieu got a minor (as in key) remake in 2006 on the eponymous album by Linda Ronstadt and Ann Savoy. I have had it stuck in my head on and off for about a year now and it is the perfect music for a cold, dark night in the southern states. Here is a (cell phone) recording of me singing it this evening. With a little ocean thrown in at the end.
I recorded “Reset” last April on a cruise I took to the Bahamas by myself. It was one of the stranger experiences of my life. I guess I’ve been out of the school game so long that I didn’t realize that April is not only spring break, but that Carnival cruise line is a popular
I took a vacation to the country last week and recorded a first version of this song outside during a thunderstorm. I can’t say exactly where this little guy came from. One of the verses has been siting around in a journal for a few years and the rest just seemed to fit in.
A while back, a friend of mine wrote a play called Here Lies Emaline. It was good. Really, really good. This song doesn’t have anything to do with Here Lies Emaline‘s wonderful story, but I think the name Emaline got into my head that way. So there’s your intro. The icky issue I usually have with