Awake the Dawn

Hey I realize I’ve been MIA as far as the blogosphere’s concerned.  I’ve been in the process of creating a midi-convertible piano score to replicate all the temp changes and other nuances just like I played it on the recording you hear below.  Then all kinds of voices will be heard singing overhead.   But this is going to take some more time.  Here’s how it sounds with piano alone:   –

Voices are in the domain of the Sound Designer and will be revealed pending further communication with him.  In the meantime, there is so much else I could share — mostly along the lines of Keva and I having met to learn a new song Time Will Tell.  That clip is about the third time she had tried to sing it with me on the first day of rehearsal.  She’s a very quick study, and grasps the entire concepts of songs, right off the bat.

Otherwise, I’m still out and about.  I told Dave I’d get this midi-convertible score turned in soon, so I do need to attend to this.  Not sure when anything more will be happening, officially.   Andy Pope · Awake the Dawn

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Love Story

I’m taking requests now. I’m backlogged about five weeks worth of requests, and all of them are songs I’ve never played before. So this will be a learning experience. Thanks, Ashley Peterson, for the first request — good choice.   I’ll be back with “Circle of Life” next week, God willing.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Taking Requests

I began making a podcast yesterday morning when I was in a depressed state. Actually, I’m not supposed to use the word “depressed” in this context (I am told) so as not to confuse my state with that of someone who suffers from Major Depression, which is a serious mental health condition. I’m supposed to say I was “despairing” — and anyway, that’s more accurate.

I disliked the podcast at the end of the day because my despair was interfering with the point I was trying to get across. I was going to just junk it, but when I got up this morning and started listening to it, I actually became jazzed. (For those unfamiliar with the terminology, “jazz” is the opposite of “despair.”)

So I’m touching it up a bit. This could take several hours. But when I submit it (at some point today) it will seem as though I think today is Thursday. Please overlook that disparity. Today is Friday (I think.)

I’m ceasing to make much sense, so I’ll close. But first I want to ask if anyone has any requests, and I’ll try to play one of them on the piano. I tried yesterday but couldn’t think of any songs I could particularly get behind. So I’m taking requests.

Uh – please do not request “The Piano Man” by Billy Joel. It’s one of several songs I will refuse to play. You’ll find out what some of the others are as you request them.

All that said, request away.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Summertime Happiness

Here’s a piano rendition of Clark Gesner’s song “Happiness” with a bit of the Gershwin “Summertime” thrown in as an afterthought. It’s entirely spontaneous, and was done at a moment when I felt I needed release from work-related and heat-related stress. I must disclaim that there is a clicking sound in the background at the beginning which may or may not interfere with your listening pleasure. (My daughter said it didn’t.)  It may be attributed to the fan that was running above me, being as my church (like many buildings in this area)  is devoid of air-conditioning.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Tuesday Tuneup 110

Q. Where would you like to be?

A. In a place of greater efficiency.

Q. Why do you say this?

A. I feel as though I’m not managing my time very well.

Q. Has time management typically been an issue for you?

A. Let’s put it this way.  I once wasted an hour in a bookstore looking for a book on time management.

Q. How much time do you think you waste per day?

A. At least half the day.

Q. What can you do about this?

A. Well obviously, I gotta get off my rump.

Q. Do you see yourself a lazy person?

A. Not exactly lazy — that’s not my M.O.  I’m a person who generally enjoys working.   But I’m more like a spacey person — you might say, a scatterbrain.

Q. Absent-minded professor?

A. Adjunct comes closer.   Not exactly a full professor . . .

Q. But an absent-minded person?

A. Yessir.

Q. How long have you been this way?

A. All my life.

Q. Why do you think this is?

A. Something in my mental make-up.   My nature is to be more interested in what’s going on in my own head than in what’s happening in the world around me.

Q. When did this first begin to trouble you?

A. In 1976 when I was a student at the UOP Conservatory of Music.

Q. What happened then?

A. I found that I couldn’t concentrate on the reading load.  Especially Music History.

Q. What did you do about this?

A. I approached them and said I was having difficulty concentrating.

Q. What did they do about that?

A. They threw me into an intense kinda Freudian therapy group.   It had nothing to do with reading comprehension.  I was there with a bunch of other people who were having problems, and the facilitator of the group was this really mean guy who kept telling me how horrible I was.

Q. How long did you stay in the group?

A. Too long!   I finally walked out after six months or so.

Q. What happened then?

A. The head of the group essentially put a curse on me.   He said: “If you bail out now, you are going to be f—-d up for fourteen years!

Q. Fourteen years??

A. That’s exactly what he said.   The number fourteen.   I’ll never forget it.

Q. What happened throughout those fourteen years?

A. Well naturally I could never stop think about the curse!   I had good times and bad times, numerous office jobs, a few musician gigs, a couple failed efforts at college degrees, but I mainly just couldn’t get it out of my head how f—–d up I was supposed to be.

Q. What happened when the fourteen years were up?

A. This is the weird thing.  I know I was an impressionable young man, otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed in that ridiculous group for as long as I did.   But I believe the effects of the curse from a stern male authority figure were deep-set.

Q. How so?

A. There came a day in the year 1990 when I had just finished a long-term temp contract with PG&E, and I had no idea how to pay my rent.  I was stuck in a tiny town near the Contra Costa Power Plant, feeling sorry for myself.   Then one day I got up and something was different.  I immediately went out and ran two miles and did a set a push-ups.   Then I got into the shower, and for reasons unknown to me, I started shouting:

“I am a child of God!  I am a child of God!!  I am child of the Most High King!  I am a child of God!!”

Then, stepping out of the shower — feeling absolutely wonderful — I saw that there was a message on my answering machine.  It was from a pianist whom I hardly knew who wanted to tip me off on a job she’d been offered.   The job was at a place called Gulliver’s Restaurant, in the city of Burlingame California.   This pianist, whose name was Tracy Stark, had decided to play on a cruise ship instead.  (Much better money).   So she was spreading the news of a possible gig.   (Musicians do help each other out this way, you know).

I put my best duds on, drove my Oldsmobile Cutlass down to the Bay Area, and hit the keys of a piano for the first time in six months.   It was a Yamaha C-3 baby grand, by the way.   When I touched the keys, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Aahh!!” I exclaimed, feeling as though I was back where I belonged in life.   I then played my medley of “My Favorite Things” and “Orphan in the Storm.”   The manager handed me a W-9 and said: “Welcome to Gulliver’s.”

The rest is history – or my own history anyway.  I sat on that piano bench four nights a week for the next nine years.

Q. What do you make of all this?

A. The therapist was a sadist, and I was a gullible, vulnerable young man with all kinds of insecurities that he played upon.   The “curse” was nothing but power of suggestion.   I gave the fellow that much power.   When fourteen years had past, God intervened.

Q. Say, is there a name for your condition?

A. I didn’t learn this until fairly recently, but it’s ADHD, of a severe variety.   And people nowadays say I’m neurodivergent, and somewhere on the autism spectrum.

Q. What can you do about it?

A. I think the answer is clear.   It’s the same answer for us all.   Trust in God – whomever you conceive God to be — and believe in yourself.

The Questioner is silent.  

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

New Piano Album: “Pensive”

Recently I mentioned putting together twelve selections for a piano album. I’m in the process of preparing CD’s for the usual regulars, but at the same time I’ve already uploaded the album onto a SoundCloud playlist, so that the world can listen free of charge. If you like the album and you feel moved to make a donation, you can always do so anonymously by clicking where it says donate. There are expenses involved, and donations are always appreciated.

If anyone wants a CD, hit me with a postal address in the Contact Form and we’ll work something out. Hope you all like my work.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Over the Rainbow

I think this is the second of a number of takes I did of this song in recent days. I couldn’t surpass this one, because nothing I did afterward said what I wanted to say. As far as the song I did before this one, “Why Don’t You Do Right?”  Well, I did it over again because it just didn’t do it right.   And the song before that, “Everything Must Change?”  I figured it had to be changed.

You see, I’m compiling a new album that so far has nine tunes on it. I’m doing parts of certain tunes over again — and it’s an interesting project. Once I get to twelve tunes, I’ll put it all together, and let y’all know.   

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Why Don’t You Do Right?

“Why Don’t You Do Right?” is an old standard (1936) jointly composed by a couple of cats named Kansas Joe McCoy and Herb Morand.  I believe it was popularized by Peggy Lee and most associated with her rendition.   Andy Pope at the Baldwin Grand, April 16, 2021.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Gratitude List 1551

(1) Going to meet with Keva this Sunday and do some singing and maybe more recording – not necessarily all stuff from the show.   Grateful for the connection.  Just because the workshop is over, it doesn’t have to end.

(2) An idea for a new column came to me out of the blue this morning.   Grateful to have been given something new and interesting to focus on at this time.

(3) New Lenovo arrived from Office Depot.   Great computer, never read a bad review, got $220 off on the deal, everything appears to be working perfectly.

(4) I really like this town cafe, which they expanded during the pandemic.   Takes up a whole block now with two new sections, including a beer and wine bar for after hours.   Looking forward to settling into a new phase of working quietly from here — gotta finish the 4th draft vocal score, and finally begin the piano score (having left the hardest part till last.)  Then the show will be ready for whoever.

(5) And I can move on.   It’s weird when change is “trying to happen.”  It feels so awkward needing to navigate new territory.   But change is necessary — I just have to keep trusting in the One who does not change.

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer.   Always remember, you have within yourself the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars and change the world.”  — Harriet Tubman 

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Re: Everything Must Change

I briefly posted my version of “Everything Must Change” yesterday, prior to promptly removing it from the public eye upon recognition of bloopers too big to bear widespread disclosure.  

Specifically, I kept forgetting during my improv around the standard changes to enter into the repeated modulating passage that precedes the signature hook.  Anyone who knew the correct changes could easily raise their voice in justifiable objection.   So I had to remove the rendition before any further foreseen damage could be effected.

I’m headed up to the church at this moment, confident in my capacity to create a conducive restoration of the formerly misshapen theme.  So convinced am I in my competence to thereof, that I even have dared to announce it beforehand, though one knows not what the future brings.

The piece had been on my mind for two reasons.  One is that it seems fitting in this time of temporal transition, with Good Friday representing the power of Christ’s sacrificial love, wherein there is a death to the flesh in its formerly all-inclusive nature, to be followed by a promised rebirth of a far more transcendent form of life.   “Everything Must Change” can be said to embody this theme, in its core essence.

A second reason is that its chord progression resembles that of another piece that had crossed my mind recently; and that, in fact, I had already performed on a video recording.  “All in Love is Fair” is a song by Stevie Wonder that was popularized in roughly the same era as “Everything Must Change.”  Their chord progressions are similar though not identical.  My mind, while improvising around the progression to “Everything Must Change,” kept forgetting which tune it was that I was supposed to be embellishing.  Many odd short-circuitries of mortal mental prowess transpired.  The upshot was a failure to honor the essence of either piece.   A reconstruction of said construction is therefore in order.

That’s about it!  I’d hesitated to offer what might be interpreted as a mere disclaimer — but then I had a hunch that the explanatory information might be useful to someone, on some level.  I’ll be back within a few hours.    

In the Bleak Midwinter

I’m sure there have been bleaker midwinters than this (but I’m not sure when.)  The image on the soundcloud is right outside my door, at around eight in the evening last night.   The music behind the image conveys my thoughts around the theme of “In the Bleak Midwinter” — the Harold Darke setting to the words of Christina Rossetti (not to be confused with the more well-known setting by Gustav Holst.)  I hope you enjoy my thoughts.   

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

New Album: “From a Distance”

It’s been about a year now since I’ve released a piano album.   From a Distance reveals the best of what I’ve been able to produce throughout the year when we’ve been social distancing and sheltering in place.   Unlike previous albums – which were recorded either with a Motorola or a Samsung smartphone, all selections were recorded with either an iPhone 11 or an iPhone 7.  The result is a much higher sound quality.  I listened last night, and it really gives the listener the feeling that they are attending a private live piano concert.  

Here are the twelve selections on From a Distance:

The Letter – Wayne Carson
Desperado – Glenn Frey & Don Henley
The Way We Were – Marvin Hamlisch
We Three Kings – John Henry Hopkins Jr.
In the Bleak Midwinter – Harold Darke
Be Thou My Vision – Traditional (Irish Origin)
All the Things You Are – Jerome Kern
Somebody Loves Me – George Gershwin
I Get a Kick Out of You – Cole Porter
I’ve Never Been in Love Before – Frank Loesser
Never Never Land – Jule Styne
From a Distance – Julie Gold

So far the album is available only on CD.  If (like some of us) you still have an affinity for that particular medium, why don’t you leave a mailing address in the Contact form, and I’ll pop one in the mail.  I do request a $15 donation.  (You can make that where it says “donate” below the page here, or get back to me if you don’t use PayPal.)

I really think you’ll enjoy it.  (I’ll also be posting my version of “In the Bleak Midwinter” in about an hour, and “From a Distance” next Friday.)

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Homeless at the Piano

The other day I was leafing through old WordPress posts, after Ashley Peterson submitted an intriguing post around the concept of editing past material. It didn’t come as much of a surprise that many of my older posts reflected a different spirit or attitude than I have today. Therefore, outside of minor edits (spelling, grammatical, etc.), I decided not to edit my content. It would seem hypocritical of me to do so, even if I disagree today with what I wrote back then.

One thing that glared was how much black-and-white thinking there was back in those days, and how I would often hyperbolize for the sake of emphasis, in a way that could easily have belied my statements. For example, at one point I wrote something to this effect:

“Here in my new life, lots of people like to listen to me play the piano. When I was homeless, the only people who ever cared about my music were other homeless people.”

This is both black-and-white and hyperbolic. While it is true that most of the people who cared about my music were homeless, it is not true that nobody who lived indoors didn’t care to listen. Also, it’s natural that most of my listeners were homeless, simply because I myself was homeless, and I mostly hung out with homeless people.

Let me tell you a story that exemplifies this.

Piano Key- Middle C In Grunge Stock Image - Image of black ...

We who were over 55 had the privilege of hanging out at the Senior Center, where there happened to be three pianos. In the morning, I would sign in, and head for the Baldwin upright in a distant room in the corner of the building. I did this for the sake of privacy, because I was afraid of making too much of a scene at the other two pianos, where I could more easily heard. I didn’t want somebody to tell me to stop playing, because I might have been making too much noise.

Next to the little room on the corner was a room with a number of pool tables. Early in the morning, a group of people who happened to be almost entirely African-American homeless men would congregate to play pool.

Naturally, they would hear the piano, and sometimes come into the room to listen. I remember playing the jazz break in the song Skylark, and looking up and a man was smiling, snapping his fingers. Another time, I looked up after the song, and five Black men were clapping wildly outside the door.

Of course, this was gratifying. Every musician loves an audience.

But one day, I went to the piano at eight in the morning as usual, and there was a sign on the door of the adjacent room, to the effect that it was closed for repairs. But something seemed odd. It didn’t really seem like anything needed repair, nor was anyone repairing the room.

Disgruntled, I approached the front desk and spoke with one of the administrative aides, whose name was Laura.

“Why is the pool room closed?”

“Uh – the guys were making quite a ruckus, and they kinda smelled of alcohol, and they were starting to get a little loose with our property – and you know, we had to shut it down.”

“But Laura, you guys just took my audience away!”

“What do you mean, Andy?”

“Those guys were always clapping for me, and cheering, and all that! Now I don’t have anyone listening!”

“Well Andy, why you just play the Yamaha in the auditorium near thhe main dining area?”

Puzzled, I replied: “But then you guys are all gonna hear me.”

“But Andy – we want to hear you!!”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling strangely enlightened. “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll play.”

Long story short, it wasn’t too much longer before a number of Senior Center employees were sitting in the auditorium with their smartphones and tripods, filming a concert that I performed at the North Berkeley Senior Center. In fact, I played the music to Turns Toward Dawn at that concert, though the lyrics were not written till 2018, when I was already in Moscow.

I believe I still have the videos to that concert in storage somewhere. I might fish them out at a later time. But I gotta be honest with you — when I look at the man who played that concert, he does not look like the man people look at today. I easily looked ten years older than I do now. (Why my posture was better, I have no idea.)

All vanity aside, what is your take on all this? I mean, sociologically? Psychologically? It seems a bit unusual that I would have restricted my musical offerings to other homeless people. I have my theories, but it would be interesting to hear yours.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Gratitude List 1647

(1) First full band rehearsal tonight at 7pm.  We’re rehearsing the opening number “Sirens of Hope” and the ballad “Turns Toward Dawn.”  Everyone seems stoked, and I’m down.

(2) Still getting more exercise, mostly brisk walking of fairly long distances.  Still losing weight, still spending less time on the Internet and more time outdoors.   Cold weather hasn’t been too much of a deterrent, though it does help me not to overdo it.

(3) Grateful for the stimulus check, being as it has helped me to rationalize four Domino’s pizzas already, not to mention the nice meal from the Co-Op I’m about to indulge on the way out the door to rehearsal.

(4) Rehearsing the “Urban Elegy” yesterday, there were spots where we all came together so nicely, and with a nice kind of driving feel throughout.  It was such a great, unexpected experience we decided to do it a second time so Keva could record it.  And then, lo and behold, the second time was even better than the first.  (Eager to hear the recording, once it materializes.)

(5) I find myself looking forward to packing up my stuff and heading into town on a slow trek toward rehearsal.  I find myself grateful that I live in such a peaceful community.  For all the insanity going on in the world today, I’m grateful for the little pockets of sanity, wherever they can be found.  Grateful for the warm and very accepting community in which I live.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Christmas Offerings from the Team

First I’d like you to hear a couple of the musicians I’m fortunate enough to have landed for our Eden in Babylon workshop.   That’s Liam Merchant on saxophone (he’s playing sax, flute, and keyboard synth in the EIB band).  Bobby Meador is the guitarist, as they do an intriguing version of “The House of the Rising Sun,” sung to the tune of “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” 

On a more traditional note, here are the Wendt Brothers — Cody, Ian, and Tyler — with their charming Christmas Special.   Numerous carols are here displayed, evoking the signature Wendt harmonies and piano stylistics.  In addition, Cody narrates the Christmas Special with accounts of how these carols came into being.   

May the warmth of the season embrace us all, and God bless us — every one.   

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

Tuesday Tuneup 97

Q. What’s happening now?

A. Disruption.

Q. Disruption of what?

A. Of the natural flow of things.

Q. What is the natural flow of things?

A. Oh, it’s the flow of like, going to bed at around 9:30 at night, getting up at around 4:30 in the morning, having a cup of coffee, going for a run, eating breakfast, and — hey wait a minute!  Why do you ask?

Q. Why do you ask why I ask?

A. Because everybody has a natural flow of things, don’t they?

Q. I don’t know.  Do they?

A. Well maybe not.  But I do.  Or, at least I like to think I do.

Q. Well how has it been disrupted?

A. I think it has something to do with the arrival of the musicians.

Q. Musicians?

free clipart, clipart, american flags clipart ...

A. Yeah – musicians.   They’re unlike the other people I’ve been working with.   I’m having a little bit of trouble switching gears — you know, changing hats.

Q. Why should you have to change hats at all?

A. Because the other people are not so much like musicians.   They may sing and even play music, but they’re — a different type of people.

Q. What type of people are they?

A. They’re musical theatre people.

Q. How are those types of people different than musicians?

A. I don’t know — they’re more like me, I think.   I don’t feel like I have to play a role.

Q. But isn’t theatre all about playing roles?

A. Sure it is.  But that doesn’t mean you have to play a role in order to play a role.   You can be yourself, and be authentic – and reserve the roles for the stage.

Q. But isn’t all the world a stage?

A. Maybe.

Q. Don’t musicians also perform on stages?

A. Good point.  But musicians are different.   They have a different energy than theatre people.

Q. Why are you stigmatizing musicians?   Aren’t they all unique individuals?

A. Yeah – but they all got something in common.   Can’t quite put my finger on it.

Q. Are you saying you don’t feel comfortable among other musicians?

A. Not quite, no.   I guess you’re right.  I don’t.

Q. Why not?

A. Past experiences.

Q. What kinds of experiences?

A. Late nights.

Q. You don’t care for the night life?

A. Morning person.   Theatre gigs get me out at ten or eleven max.   Music gigs?  Party till the cows come home.  Groupies.   Partying.   Uh, er — drugs.

Q. You think your musicians are on drugs?

A. Not at all.  It’s just an association with past experience.   I haven’t played with other musicians in a really long time.  Not with a whole band of them anyway.

Q. Are you afraid of musicians?

A. Come to think of it, yes I am.   First rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and yeah I’m a little on the nervous side.

Q. Why?

A. Intimidated.

Q. Why?

A. They’re — seasoned.  Disciplined.  Cultured.   And they have a strict code of conduct.   They’re impressive — and they have —

Q. What do they have?

A. They have —

Q. What do they have that you don’t have?

A. All right, I’ll come out with it.  They have training.  They have college degrees.   They went to jazz schools and conservatories.  They probably have biographies in Wikipedia.   They’re too —

Q. Too good for you?

A. Yeah kinda.  That’s it.   They’re too good for me.

Q. You do not deserve to play with good musicians?

A. Not really, no.   They’re out of my league, to be honest with you.

Q. Then why do they want to play music with you?

A. Uh –

Q. Are you paying these cats?

A. Uh, no  . . . not at the moment, if you know what I mean . . .

Q. So why do they want to play music with you?

A. I don’t know.

Q. If there’s no money in it, why are they bothering?

A. Um — good question.  I don’t have the answer.  Do you?

 The Questioner is silent.  

The Letter

“The Letter” by Wayne Carlson. This piece was NOT done by Jefferson Airplane, unlike popular media misinformation. It was popularized by a group called the Box Tops, and covered by various Artists — including a spectacular rendition by Joe Cocker. Rolling Stone listed this song as No. 372 on their 500 Best Songs of All Time. Andy Pope at the Baldwin Grand, July 15, 2020.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

 

Free Piano Music

On these four albums, you will find compelling improvisations around contemporary classics you may recognize.   These and other albums were sold as CD’s between 2018 and 2020, mostly locally.  As of today, I’m offering them for free.   Any charitable donation will of course be appreciated.  

 

Piano clip art black piano transparent clipart god clipartcow

Exile 


Abstractions 


Pinnacle


Suspended 

 

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.

 

Gratitude List 1532

(1) I am thankful that my daughter is in my life today.   It makes me feel good to know that, whatever might have gone wrong, I’m not the type of dad that I keep hearing some of these Kids tell me about.   I’ve made mistakes — but at least I care.  Some of those so-called fathers did not even care — and worse.

(2) Thankful for this desk.  For my Lenovo IdeaPad, which safely returned from a warranty fix-up.    Thankful for Audacity free audio editing software, because I got into the multi-tracking and the mixing last night or the first time, and it was all I could do to stop mixing Zazen’s song, I was so thrilled.  This opens up a whole new world of creative possibilities.  I can actually even place musical underscores at key moments in my oral presentations.  It’s amazing what technology can do, if properly utilized.

(3) Grateful for the revelation that when I lost my cool recently, I was basically mad at all the other people on the team because I wasn’t doing my job.   True, they weren’t doing their jobs either, but it’s my job to make sure they do their jobs, and they’re definitely not going to be about doing it without pay and without pressure of definite deadline if I don’t kinda gently get on them about it, now and again.   So, I’m glad I saw the light.  I got my work cut out for me now.

(4) Just ran six miles — my longest run since I’ve been in North Idaho, I’m ashamed to say — and it feels great.  Looking forward to getting a lot of work done tonight.

(5) Looking forward to meeting my new student on Zoom for the third time tomorrow, and to having coffee thereafter with my buddy Tom, the fellow who helps with the four-hand job of putting the smartphone on the tripod.  But other than that once-or-twice-daily step-out, I mostly continue to be grateful to be sheltering in place.  It’s teaching me to be grateful for the place I have for shelter.   For a long time, there was no such place.   Things really could be — and have been — a lot worse than they are today.

“I believe I am better than the people who are trying to reform me.”
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
A little bit goes a long, long way. 

 

A Musical Note

I’ve been sorely tempted to post one of these two new piano tracks that I recorded on the Baldwin Grand at my church with the help of my pastor’s Motorola smartphone.   This is an especially strong temptation in light of my having promised to post more music, and less written text, at this time of our common trial.

Eighth Note Blue clip art | Clipart Panda - Free Clipart Images

The reason why I haven’t been posting more music can be summed up in two words: technical difficulties.

The reason why I don’t want to post either of these two new tracks is on another plane.  They’re supposed to be piano tracks used in our interactive production of my musical, Eden in Babylon.  If I posted them prematurely, without the other musicians and singers involved, it might hex it.

So, I guarantee you that you will soon see a singer, a bass player, and a pianist (Yours Truly) performing my song “Midnight Screams” in three different places at three different times.   The beauty of it is that it all comes together at once.  

This all is reminding me of a time when I asked a woman to marry me.  She said yes, but told me not to tell anyone yet, because it might “hex” it.  Of course, I told everybody.  Five days later, her ex-husband found out about it, and she was more-or-less forced to call off the engagement.

Oh well.  Perhaps our sudden mutual feeling of having fallen in love was little more than a fleeting infatuation.  Still, I have no desire to repeat past indiscretion.  As you all know, I am virtually already married to Eden in Babylon.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
A little bit goes a long, long way. 

 

Resolve

I did this one a few months ago, back in the good old days when I could still go to that church and hook up my rig with the tripod, and traverse the keys of that amazing Baldwin grand piano like there was no tomorrow. Sadly those days have been replaced by more difficult days, as we all know.

But anyway I am posting this medley of “Moon River” by Henry Mancini, “Wintertime Love” by Jim Morrison, and the old English version of the hymn “In the Bleak Midwinter.” I call it “Resolve.” It’s a cut on an album called Abandon. If you want a copy of the entire album after hearing this, hit me up and we’ll work something out.

Never did look at this video until tonight. I ripped it to mp3 at the time to stick it on the album, and for a reason that ought to be obvious to anyone who knows me, I only glanced peripherally at the video.

(By the way, if the reason isn’t as obvious I think it is, go ahead and tell me you think it is. If you’re right, maybe I can give you some kind of grand prize on my way to the bank, if and when.) Enjoy, folks.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
A little bit goes a long, long way. 

Dives and Lazarus

Somebody sent me this little gem last night.  It’s the old English ballad “Dives and Lazarus,” based on the story of the rich man and the beggar in Luke 16.   The tune is incidentally often heard in 3/4 time as the hornpipe, “Star of the County Down,” and in some hymnals it becomes “Canticle of the Turning.”  The violinist is my multi-talented friend, the late Paul Anders, whom you may have seen on other instruments on this site.  I’m not sure when we did this one, but I recall it was a beautiful night.

Please donate to Eden in Babylon.
A little bit goes a long, long way.