Part Six: More Vocalese and a Few Pop Songs
By 1990, of course, cheap keyboard instruments were everywhere and I used the one we acquired for the studio to create a children’s song of sorts, entitled “What It All Means (A Brief Explanation)”. Just two tracks of keyboard (vibes and bass) and one vocal plus a little harmony at the end:
What It All Means (A Brief Explanation)
The point of time’s passing is what the day brings.
The reason for the robin is that she has wings.
The meaning of the morning is the sky is blue.
So I’ll just keep on living - it seems to be a good thing to do.
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Around 1991 a friend of mine, a jazz pianist by the name of Ron Dean, asked me to write lyrics to a composition of his called “Time Flies.” He didn’t have the means to properly record it so he gave me a lo-fi, one-mike cassette recording of himself and his bass player. That’s all I had to work with, so that’s what you’re going to hear, with my vocals on top. But I really like these lyrics - just having fun with the concept of time:
Time Flies
(Time flies.)
Time passes by, but no matter how I try
I’ve never seen it. (Time flies.)
I can’t seem to grasp at that moment slippin’ past -
I’m stuck between it. (Time flies.)
And you know,
I feel so put upon, ‘cause when that moment’s gone
and the next comes on,
it’s exactly the same size.
(Time flies.)
TIme takes its time, although I never seem to find
where it’s been taken. (Time flies.)
And when it’s gone by, is it hung somewhere to dry
or just forsaken? (Time flies.)
I don’t know,
but Time, I know you’re slick, because you do your trick
between each tock and tick
that you wear as your disguise.
(Time flies...at the speed of love.)
You won’t think you’re so wise
when I get special eyes
that let me watch you metamorphosize.
And won’t you be surprised?
(Time flies.)
Time can’t be bought - isn’t money, though that thought
has its proponents. (Time flies.)
Some say they can, and even time that’s second-hand
can have its moments. (Time flies.)
Just say no.
But if you’re the type who can see past the hype,
wait ‘til the time is ripe,
and you’ll find it satisfies.
(Time flies.)
Times can be hard, but it could be in the stars
that yours get softened. (Time flies.)
And then you won’t mind if Time comes by to unwind
a lot more often. (Time flies.)
I sure don’t,
‘cause when Time gets unwound, it makes me feel profound
to spread it all around, then wind it up for exercise.
(Time flies...and it’s easy!)
Time won’t keep you in a vise.
When you need to, you’ll arise
and free yourself to see how well time flies.
(Time flies.)
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I met Sandra, my bride-to-be, around this same time and a little later on created a song for her called “You’re My Home,” using the same cheap keyboard mentioned above. It was intended as a kind of Motown-ish production - a joyful, uptempo love song - and I think it turned out pretty well.
The opening riff is basically a sped-up version the beginning of “Rescue Me” by Fontella Bass. Lots of tracks: bass, piano, organ, vibes, drums (which I actually “played” on the keyboard rather than using the rhythm generator - something of an accomplishment for a rhythmically-challenged person like myself), flute, marimba, tambourine, handclaps, bell-tree, synth-drums and several vocal tracks. You may notice lyrical borrowings from the Righteous Brothers and Van Morrison. Here it is:
You’re My Home
You...you’re my sun in my sky,
and the love in your eyes
is the reason I wake up every morning.
It’s you...your smile lights up the night.
Your arms feel so right
every time that my heart’s in need of warming.
You’re my Sleeping Beauty.
You’re my little kapha cutie.
I love you so.
You’re my soul and inspiration.
You’re my final destination
‘cause you’re my home.
You...you’re the best part of me.
You’re the calm of the sea
that this restless river has been seeking.
It’s you...you’re my favorite book,
‘cause each page is the look
that you give me to love me without speaking.
You’re beans and vegies and rice,
you keep me feelin’ so nice.
I love you so.
You’re the North Star, guidin’ the way
to the place where my heart will stay
‘cause you’re my home.
All these years my heart has been here waiting, alone.
Then you came along and shone,
and our love has grown,
because of you. Your love makes me so strong
and your laugh is a song
that I will never tire of hearing.
It’s you...if I’m worried or down
I know you’ll bring me around -
one kiss and the clouds start disappearing.
You’re the one I adore,
so I just gotta tell you once more:
I love you so.
You’re my teacher, I’m your toy,
you’re my (tidings of) comfort and joy, comfort and joy.
You’re my home.
You’re my home, you’re my home.
I love you so
and I want you to know
you’re my home, my home.
You’re my brown-eyed girl
and I want to tell the world
you’re my home.
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Back to the Dave Brubeck Quartet’s Time Out album. At one point I vaguely had the ambition of writing lyrics to every track on the album, but was defeated by “Blue Rondo a la Turk”. (Al Jarreau came up with a pretty good version which he called “(Round, Round, Round) Blue Rondo a la Turk”.)
But I did manage to write lyrics to “Strange Meadow Lark” and “Kathy’s Waltz” (the latter of which has become “You’re the One”). As usual, it’s just me singing over the original recordings, which again I’ve edited somewhat:
Strange Meadow Lark
Now the Sandman has come,
and his spell has cast you softly into sleep
so deep
that the sound of your name,
being whispered by someone you’ve never seen,
doesn’t seem that strange.
So you follow her down
to a meadow where the moon has made the night
so bright
that her face seems to glow,
and she moves as if to music as she turns
...and you see her eyes.
They stop your heart
and make it start to beat a different way.
And in its sound
you find you’ve found love that’s come to stay.
And everywhere
you feel the air alive with something new,
as if tonight
the time is right to make one wish come true.
So you reach for her hand,
but she whispers from you with a step as light
as flight.
And you think that she’s gone,
then she lets you hear her laughter, so you turn
...and she’s in your arms.
And yes, she’s alive and warm.
And her eyes, so kind,
read your mind
and you find you’re dancing...
The stars at play
all seem to say, come dance on our dark shores
if it’s your wish
to have this night go on forevermore.
But when you turn to see her face,
her eyes are edged with tears
that burn like diamonds
as the light of dawning day appears.
And with sunrise she’s gone,
and her tears are mingled with the morning dew,
as you
wonder how to go on -
when it seems to you there’s somewhere else you’ve been
where she can be found.
And yes, then you hear the sound,
and you know she’s somewhere near.
for you hear
that she’s calling you:
“Wake up... Wake up... Wake up...”
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You’re the One (Kathy’s Waltz)
You’re the one, you’re the one.
You’re the queen, though it seems
your domain is a dream where we stroll
hand in hand through the land,
talking of how our love
will remain deep enough to enfold
all life brings in its wings.
And it’s so, even though
every dream, as we all know, has to start
coming true while we do
what we must to adjust,
where the seams seem to have just come apart.
You’re the one, you’re the queen of my heart.
While romance enchants, you dance on,
and never think of how the piper will be paid.
But on the morning after
when you find the laughs are all gone
with the dawn, and the song
has begun its long fade,
you’ve gotta start beginning
to improve your best chance of winning.
So while the wheel’s still spinning
take the hopes that you’ve been pinning to a falling star,
and when you’re strong
put them back where they belong:
bright in the middle of you.
You’re the one, you’re the one.
You’re my queen, for you mean
more to me than it seems I should say.
“Not allowed!” cries the crowd
full of fools full of rules -
which, you see, makes them cool to displays
of delight, even slight,
between those they oppose.
For they’re not much disposed to be part
of the whole uncontrollable thing
that in spring
birds have gotten to sing as their art.
You’re the one, you’re the queen of my heart.
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