tag:andyprieboy.com,2005:/blogs/slog-s-ong-log?p=2Slog - S(ong) Log2024-02-21T16:08:46-08:00Andy Prieboyfalsetag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/73550672024-02-21T16:08:46-08:002024-02-25T21:33:29-08:00Hello Hell, Hello<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/205596/c3be3a1b468dc4d5a87bc42655c70df1c7439eea/original/andy-prieboy-hello-hell-hello-cover.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" height="2000" width="2000" /><h3 style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;">GOODBYE HELL, HELLO!</span></h3><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'>
<br><span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);">This collection included songs inspired by Dante's Inferno, lying careerist songwriters, and soon to be sung at the 2024 Million W</span><span style="color:#000000;">oman March,<span> </span><i>Putting the Laundry Away!</i><span> </span>Whi</span><span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);">ch, at 9:02 minutes, included five soloists, two Wall of Voodudes, and a drunk barfly who loves guitar solos.</span><span style="color:black;"><span> </span>Plus, there was a lyric pdf included with the album, created by our own Jessie "<i>Stop looking at my sutchers-my eyes are up here!" </i>Winch, which featured her stunning graphics along with some satisfying backstories. <strong>BUT YOU MISSED IT</strong>.</span> </div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'> </div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/205596/56e161f11f004acaadbe77cbbb3b9db24dd6de4f/original/fb-banner-thankyou.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" height="779" width="2048" /><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'> </div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'><span style="color:#000000;">Thanks to your generosity, love, and support I have reached my goal and can now complete <strong>MY SUPER SECRET BIRTHDAY SURPRISE.</strong></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'> </div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'><span style="color:#000000;">Thus it is time to take down <i>Hello Hell, Hello</i>. I do so with my deepest gratitude for your purchases, donations, and kind words.</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'> </div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'><span style="color:#000000;">Bless you all. </span></div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'> </div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'><span style="color:#000000;">SEE YOU ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style='-webkit-text-stroke-width:0px;color:rgb(53, 28, 117);font-family:"times new roman", serif;font-size:large;font-style:normal;font-variant-caps:normal;font-weight:400;letter-spacing:normal;orphans:auto;text-align:start;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0px;text-transform:none;white-space:normal;widows:auto;word-spacing:0px;'>
<br><span style="color:#000000;">Andy</span>
</div><section><div style="box-sizing:border-box;" data-controller="truncation"><div class="album-description" style="box-sizing:border-box;font-size:1em;"><div class="" style="box-sizing:border-box;" data-truncation-target="fullVersion"> </div></div></div></section>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/71516382023-02-10T15:12:12-08:002023-12-25T23:03:13-08:00ABOUT 'LIVE AT LARGO' ART WORK<p><span class="text-big"><strong>1997: Cafe Largo </strong></span></p><p>To the magnificent strains of <u>"If You Want To Know Who We Are"</u>, from The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan, my band made their way to the stage, one at a time. The crowd cheered each dazzling member. </p><p>Then, on cue, I would exit the kitchen that faced into the house where Largo owner, Flanagan, waited for me with a long-stemmed lighter. I would pause as he smiled at me and said, "<i>Hello, Darkness, my old friend" </i>his nickname for me<i>. </i>Smiling back, I would bend towards the flame, and take a deep pull. Then I would saunter out into the crowd to open the show with a slow, pulsating 'Jazz Crowd'. </p><p>That was me, in the 90's:Smoking.Smoking. SMOKING through the whole set. Ah! Cigs! Beautiful cigarettes! They were such a part of my life in those days. * Where others swore they'd quit the day packs went up to five bucks, I was different. I quit once I hit five packs <i>a day.</i></p><p>That's right. <i>Five </i>packs. 100 cigs a day. </p><p>At home, I wrote with cigs constantly smoldering into my piano. I sang with cigs. I played piano with them between my fingers. </p><p>So that was a picture of me: songs, ratty hair, sixties suits, Cuban heels, and <i>cigs, cigs, cigs! </i>That's why it seemed like such a perfect idea to leave complimentary cigarette packs on each of the tables at Largo! What better way to express my appreciation to my audience than to offer them each twenty free coffin nails? </p><p>With that, I asked fine artist and cartoonist, Pat Tierney, to do a <i>highly romanticized </i>version of me smoking, based on some classic UK cigarette packs. ** </p><p> </p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/205596/89fdec0f63cb14d07487c818c544b46164365e9f/original/ap-cigs-slog-bd.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span class="text-small">From <i>Cigarette Pack Art </i>by Chris Mullen </span></p><p style="text-align:center;"> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span class="text-big">Behold! </span></p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/205596/e873056617556fcbd067329af9ab67aa5d850249/original/ap-pattierny-slog-bd.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p> </p><p>Pat then did a mock-up that allowed the art work to be effectively wrapped around an existing pack of smokes, printing two per page. He included an effete invitation for the back! </p><p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/s:bzglfiles/u/205596/3a78430ada11030c202268ccab4beaa02db8951f/original/ap-filterkings-slog-bd.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p><br>I was excited. The idea was to buy cigarette cartons and spend a few hours gluing the artwork around the individual packs. Leave them on the tables. </p><p>Then, poof ! The laws changed. No more cigarettes in clubs.</p><p>There went that idea, up in smoke.<br> </p><hr><p><span class="text-small">*I have long since quit. And, kids, don't start smoking because <i>blah, blah, blah,</i>-and just what the fuck are you doing on my website? <i>Scram!~ </i></span></p><p><span class="text-small">**If my musical ever succeeded, I was going to take Pat's caricature to a plastic surgeon and say <i>"See? <u>Like this!" </u></i></span></p><p> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/69252322022-03-17T17:09:35-07:002023-12-09T12:38:56-08:00ONE AND ONE MAKE THREE<p>Oh God, you don't want to hear another "<i>then-the-pandemic hit " </i>blog post, do you? No!</p><p>Unless it's me, of course. Then you'll want to hear about every fucking moment. </p><p>Well, look out: Here are the three things I accomplished with the 63,113,852 seconds that crawled between March 2020 and 2022. </p><p><br>1) I got married to the love of my life, Merrill Markoe. </p><p><br>2) I got Covid. </p><p><br>3) I made this album.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, wait, I just remembered: I also shaved and dressed in a smart manner every day. So, make that four things.</p><p>Don't worry, I still have 57,345,908 seconds left to tell you all about.</p><p> </p><p>Now, onto the albums title track:</p><p><strong> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/91f6f99bbc67576a9e47e946e2c102997a00eaf7/original/b3-zoofleandyprieboy-oneandonemakethree-2.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></strong></p><p>Before he left for Europe in the early 1990s, Wall of Voodoo co-creator and lead guitarist Marc Moreland left behind a suitcase at the home of his friend and Dept. of Crooks collaborator, Sheldon Ferguson. It never occurred to anyone that Marc would never be coming back for it. </p><p>The suitcase sat untouched for the next twenty years until Sheldon decided to go through it. Inside, among other assorted belongings, he found a cassette full of songs labeled in Marc’s handwriting and dated 1985. Most were demo versions of songs that appeared on Wall of Voodoo’s Seven Days in Sammystown. There were also a handful of songs that didn’t make it. ‘One And One Make Three’, a song written by me, was one of them. </p><p>“How come this wasn’t on Sammystown!?” Sheldon texted me after listening to it. </p><p>“Nobody said nothing!” I texted back, thinking that was all the explanation that was required. </p><p>Let me explain. A lot of the songwriting done by Wall of Voodoo was done individually. Each of us would put our ideas down on a four-track reel-to-reel that would eventually become a compilation cassette of complete and/ or incomplete sketches of songs that would be passed out to band members and managers. </p><p>So if somebody said “Wow, I really like that song!” we’d all take that as a sign that it deserved to be worked on to completion. Or at least kicked around a bit. </p><p>But if nobody said nothing... well, the song died a quiet death. So, why wasn’t this on the album? Well... nobody said nothing. </p><p>However, when I was preparing this current collection, I felt inspired by Sheldon’s enthusiasm for the song. Happily, I invited fellow Voodoo band members Bruce Moreland and Ned Leukhardt to join me in giving the song a second chance. Sheldon Ferguson, on guitar, also makes an appearance. </p><p>And so... thirty-five years later, ‘One And One Make Three’ is out of the suitcase at last. That old sketch is finally realized.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span class="text-small">Photo - Edward Colver</span></p><p><span class="text-small">Graphics - Jessie Winch</span></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/69134342020-09-02T01:45:00-07:002023-12-09T12:38:04-08:00THE RED LIGHT OF MORNING<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/2d591f061f8645907a86001e69f3d271f66d64dc/original/red-light-bandzoogle.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p><p>I created this collection in 2020 to raise money for Australians and Australian animals impacted by the wildfires.</p><p>Once we reached our quota - <i>thank you and bless you</i>- I took the album down. </p><p> </p><p>Now, some two years later, I think I'll click this back on . Because people in need were the original catalyst, I think I'll give it away for free for a few months.</p><p> I want to thank all those kind people who helped in 2020...</p><p>Fondly Thus, <br>Andy Prieboy<br> </p><p><span class="text-small">Photo by Bruce Birnbaum</span></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/58053392019-07-01T11:36:18-07:002022-03-05T19:28:02-08:00EVERY LADY GETS A SONG (RE-ISSUE)<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/5feeda3c37c31b74af6ab67f0373b4bb97086c57/original/lady-cover.jpg/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><strong>About the title track…</strong></p>
<p>Years ago, I stood in the wings watching a fellow songwriter sing about his recent lost love. Oh, the injustice! Oh, the betrayal! Oh, the heartache! His performance was the very wail of pained humanity. </p>
<p>I was in awe. The audience held their collective breath. </p>
<p>Then it struck me: <em><strong>WAIT A FUCKING SECOND! </strong></em></p>
<p>I knew his ex! I knew the real story behind the breakup! <em>He</em> had been the selfish cretin! <em>He</em> was the crazy drunk! <em>He </em>was the one who cheated! </p>
<p>Yet here he was, weaponizing music’s charms and turning a crowd of drunks in a club against her.</p>
<p>What a B-hole! </p>
<p>Thus the seed for the title track was planted. Somewhere in 2010, I wrote Every Lady while writing other songs. It took about 10 minutes. Tops. </p>
<p>By the by, <em>the insensitive asshole songwriter </em>is now a stock character in my personal <strong>Commedia </strong><strong>del</strong><strong> '</strong><strong>arte</strong><strong>.</strong> He has a dilly of a song waiting to see the light of day.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>No Reason.</strong></p>
<p>I rarely perform <strong>No Reason</strong> as it is emotionally draining. The chords pad a melody best described as the <em>insistent monotone of despair. </em><br> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>The Same Great Guy </strong></p>
<p><strong>Both Same Great Guy</strong> and <strong>No Reason </strong>were inspired by <strong>Purcell’s Cold Genius. </strong>Struck by Purcell’s economy of melody and challenging chord structure, I experimented by reducing melody on both songs, letting the chords do the work. </p>
<p>The inspiration for <strong>Same Great Guy </strong>came from a blurb on a can of soda: <strong><em>Same Great Taste With A</em><em> Great</em><em> New Look!</em> </strong>It reminded me of many phases of my life. Hence,<strong> Same Great Guy</strong> draws on my clueless arrival in San Fransisco’s punk scene in the mid-1970s. I paraphrased a line I heard at a 1978 Punk Rock fashion show: <em>Don’t change the </em>world, sneered the announcer, <em>change your clothes… </em></p>
<p>The girl who called herself Coyote is, of course, the legendary Ginger Coyote. This good soul attended everybody’s show in our early days. Ginger took pictures and wrote blurbs in her self published <em>Punk Globe</em>. Some of us went on to have professional careers, yet we all saw our faces and name in print for the first time thanks to her. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><br><strong>Cry For Her </strong></p>
<p>I wrote a version of the first verse in 1982, long before I joined Voodoo. The chorus arrived during the pre - Sammystown 1984 writing sessions. It stalled at that point. The song evolved at a glacial pace. By 2010 I had lived long enough and hard enough to finish it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Your Free Complimentary Gratis Bonus Track!</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>The Ghosts High Noon </strong></p>
<p>Oh, had we done this in Wall of Voodoo! It would have provided an exquisite blend of our varied aesthetics: Sullivan's melody, the blueprint for all <em>Ghost Riders in the Sky-</em>like anthems, would have been a perfect platform for Marc Moreland’s twang and Blue Box distortion. The chord progression deeply appeals to my operatic leanings while Gilbert’s Gothic lyrics seem custom made for Bruce Moreland. </p>
<p>Pity we didn’t…. </p>
<p>From Gilbert and Sullivans<strong> Ruddigore. </strong></p>
<p>I did this a few years ago as a Facebook Halloween treat. I asked my many FB friends to add their voices to the international chorus heard here.</p>
<p>————————————————— </p>
<p><strong>NOTA BENE</strong></p>
<p>The four main tracks were recorded in 2011, at Catasonic Studio in Echo Park. Mark Wheaton engineered and co-advised, </p>
<p>Around 2013, I failed to renew the collection on iTunes and the songs faded into sweet online oblivion. So, <strong>Caveat Emptor:</strong> If you bought this collection on iTunes years ago, these are the same recordings. </p>
<p><strong>No re-masters! </strong></p>
<p><strong>No re-mixes! </strong></p>
<p><strong>Just re-issue redundancy! </strong></p>
<p>If these are new to you, I hope you enjoy them!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As always, I am deeply grateful for your support.</p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/56437432019-02-15T14:55:18-08:002022-03-16T01:13:28-07:00I HAD A NEW WAVE ACT<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/66fd3f68811c859a615e4346cd8d37bde8fb7599/original/new-wave-for-face-book.jpg/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><span class="font_small">From "Every Night of My Life" </span></strong></p>
<p>The current glut of self-hagiographies by my fellow first-gen New Wave/Punk Rock peers was the inspiration for this song. The unreliable elderly narrator in<strong> I Had a New Wave Act</strong> can’t remember if he has already told you all about his great old band. <em>Oh, what times we had! Did I already tell you? I was in a New Wave band! Did you know that? Well, lemme tell you ... </em></p>
<p>Just be glad he isn't a recovering heroin addict or you'd have to hear<em> that </em>old yarn again. </p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><em><strong>ANYWAY... </strong></em></span></p>
<p>While a great deal of fun to compose, recording this fatuous canticle proved difficult. Playback would reveal it's true nature: just a dumb guy singing a dumb song. It needed a context in which to thrive. It couldn’t just be recorded, it had to <em>happen. </em></p>
<p>On top of that, the arrangement seemed to require more than just one dumb guy: it craved the support of many simpletons in vigorous agreement. Ideally, this mindless army would be made up of the idiot's brainless band and an imbecilic audience. </p>
<p>But how…? </p>
<p>Ah! Study the Masters! </p>
<p>Thus, I paid homage to the glorious fake-live songs of my youth: <strong>Soul Finger, Hey Leroy, </strong>and the flawless <strong>Skinny Legs and All</strong>. The difference is that those artists got all their peers in the studio to make a joyful noise. I just gathered all my imaginary friends instead. </p>
<p>And yes, I am aware that it is not remotely a New Wave-type composition. That would have been the <em>obvious </em>choice.</p>
<p><strong>Nota Bene:</strong> A few names mentioned in the song... and one not</p>
<p><strong>1) Barry Beam</strong>: a gifted, kindly, creative soul who had a one-man art band. On the grim Mabuhay Gardens stage, he presented a complex, humorous one-man show using reel-to-reel music /rhythm tracks. The songs were often interrupted by the voice of his mother, insisting he makes use of all those tap dancing lessons she paid good money for. Barry would oblige and begrudgingly practice tap. In a punk club, mind you. Mother's voice spoke through a little hat with flashing lights that Barry wore. He and my band, Eye Protection did a number of shows together. </p>
<p><strong>2) Crime</strong>: seminal SF punk band. </p>
<p>After a year and a half of lame gigs, my band, Eye Protection was finally getting some notice. We were doing so well that Crime invited us to take the second slot on an upcoming show. Wow! Second slot on a Saturday night for Crime!? That was <em>big</em> time! Crime shows were events!</p>
<p>That night, the Mabuhay was packed and we were great!. We did so well, Crime asked us <em>back </em>for more shows! Wow! At last, recognized by the SF punk elite, we were on our way! We were thrilled. </p>
<p>Soon after, Crime was interviewed in the SF Chronicle, saying "'<em>We always ask shitty bands to open for us. That way we will always look good." </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>3) Jello </strong><strong>Biafra. I</strong>'d see Jello around The Mabuhay our early days<strong>. </strong>We'd sometimes run into one another at the Cala Supermarket at 3 AM and chat. He was a glib, friendly chappie. And before he became immortal, he did indeed, once or twice stand in the wings and watch my show, as I did his. Unlike the narrator, I highly doubt Jello ever envied me for a second. My guess is he was doing what I did: stand in the wings, watch the various singers and learn what to do and, more importantly, <em>what not to do. </em></p>
<p>Quite possibly he learned a great deal of the latter from me.</p>
<p><strong>4) Chris Isaak:</strong> another immortal who came from my Mabuhay graduating class. I did not know Chris. Back then he sang and played guitar for The Silvertones. My girlfriend at the time would insist we force our way up front to stand in front of Chris where she'd look adoringly at him, her head about level with his crotch.</p>
<p>I said, "Woe,baby, you are really into that guy!" </p>
<p>She said "<em>Don't you know!? He is like that kid from Deliverance. He is a mental defective. An imbecile. A man-child. But he can play music like no one else. That's why I love looking at him</em><em>: he</em><em> is a miracle." </em></p>
<p>Having learned all this, I looked at him with different eyes. God had bestowed the gift of music, stage presence, and movie star-like good looks upon this poor half-wit. Well, let her look! He is no threat to me! So I, too, looked adoringly upon this natural wonder. </p>
<p>It wasn't until years later when Chris became a major star that I woke up in the middle of the night and thought,<em> "Hey, wait a second...." </em></p>
<p><strong>5)</strong> Yes, that’s me in the photo.No I did not dress like that on stage. That is a still from a low-budget New Wave film from 1982. I was a Martian or something. </p>
<p>Like you didn't go through your own Bowie phase. </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/56294982019-02-06T15:12:04-08:002022-03-16T01:13:56-07:00EVERY NIGHT OF MY LIFE<p><span class="font_small"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/43808c0b42fd8d51bf46bec0a135cde3c48b91e0/original/fb-album-cover-done.jpg/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" style="font-size: 16px;" /></span></p>
<p>I am very happy to be back on-line and releasing these songs. It's been far too long.</p>
<p>Before I start, let me point out that the album’s cover features a photo of my piano. This is where I feel I have spent every night of my life. Gratefully so.</p>
<p><br><span class="font_large"><strong>Okay! A Quick Word...</strong></span></p>
<p>Most of this was recorded over a very difficult two year period. It was a passage which brought the death of my mother, of my friend Tony Kinman and recently, the Woolsey Fire which we fled this past November. </p>
<p>Somehow, in between and after all that, I got this done.</p>
<p>The newest song on the collection is the title track, <strong>Every Night of my Life, </strong>written just before the fires. The oldest, <strong>Perfect Strange</strong>r was created in 1981. I will tell you more about the others in the days to come.</p>
<p>To thank you for supporting this website, I have added a bonus track, Shine (for Henry). I recorded this informal version of the song late at night for a friend a few years ago.</p>
<p>The songs are </p>
<p><strong>Every Night of My Life </strong></p>
<p><strong>Perfect Stranger </strong></p>
<p><strong>I Had a New Wave Act </strong></p>
<p><strong>Annalina </strong></p>
<p><strong>Get Me Out Of This Town* (duet with Tony Kinman) </strong></p>
<p>(Bonus Track<strong> )</strong></p>
<p><strong>Shine (for Henry</strong>) </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</strong></p>
<p><strong>Andy Prieboy </strong><br>Vocals, Piano, Keyboards, Guitar </p>
<p><strong>Tony Kinman </strong><br>Bass, Vocals </p>
<p><strong>David Kendrick </strong><br>Drums, percussion. </p>
<p>I have included the lyrics digitally should you purchase the album. I must apologize for the absence of design on those pages. The wildfires robbed me of the time I needed to prepare something better looking. </p>
<p>As I said, I will be writing more about some of these songs. In fact, one of the songs crossed paths with Super Freak Rick James long ago. But I will tell you more about that later.</p>
<p>For now, I am very happy to be back.</p>
<p>Thank you for stopping by.</p>
<p>Thank you for your support.</p>
<p>Andy Prieboy </p>
<p>2/6/19</p>
<p><span class="font_small">Album photo by Bruce Birnbaum. Lettering by Noah Markoe</span></p>
<hr><p><strong>Caveat Emptor: </strong>Downloading music off this program may prove difficult on iOS devices. </p>
<p>iMac/Macbooks, on the other hand, should be compatible. </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/51873182019-01-31T13:20:53-08:002022-03-04T02:03:51-08:00New Release Coming!<p>For about two years I have been off-line. </p>
<p>The decline and deaths of two souls who I deeply loved robbed me of my focus. I worked, yes, but it was difficult. As I recovered from losing one, I began to lose the other. </p>
<p>Ask anyone who knows me: I don't bounce back quickly. </p>
<p>But, sometime in mid-summer, I came roaring back to life. My mind and heart cleared. I began writing, cleaning, tweaking and mixing songs that had been accumulating <em>somehow </em>over the past two dark years. Things were looking good. I planned a release in autumn. </p>
<p>Then came the California wildfires in November. Quickly taking only dogs, clothing and cologne, I left instruments, recordings, gear, photos and everything else behind. </p>
<p>We were away for almost a month. Some six hundred homes in my area were destroyed. Nine were lost one block over. Up the hill, an entire neighborhood was wiped out. Our home was mercifully, nay!<em> Miraculously</em> untouched. </p>
<p>By mid-December, with the power back on and the smoke damage gone, I went back into the studio, putting the finishing touches on that aforementioned collection of songs. </p>
<p>I will be releasing it within a week. It's called <strong>Every Night of My Life. </strong></p>
<p>Look for it soon! </p>
<p>That is if the wildfires don't return. </p>
<p>Fingers crossed. </p>
<p>And hey, don't fucking die on me, okay? I couldn't handle another one.</p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/46313832017-03-30T11:35:44-07:002023-02-11T13:27:29-08:00HEAVEN OR ANAHEIM -or- Have You Ever Written a Happy Song?<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><span class="font_large"><em>Heaven or Anaheim</em></span><br><span class="font_large">- or -</span></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><strong>"HAVE YOU EVER WRITTEN A HAPPY SONG?" </strong></span></p>
<p>Recently, my beloved, Merrill asked me if I had ever written a happy song. </p>
<p>I responded, "If the question is 'Have you ever written a song <em>about being</em> happy?", the answer would be <em>"once."</em><br>However, if you are inquiring whether I have ever composed music <em>while being </em>happy, that is another issue entirely.</p>
<p>I am like a character in a musical. When I am feeling happy, I break into song. I can not contain myself. All too often my joy spontaneously combusts into songs about my dogs and, in the past, kitties. Inspired by their mindless goodwill and undimmable enthusiasm, I am overtaken by a love expressed through silliness and play. What the Greeks called <em>Ludis. </em>Thus, my dog and cat songs are complex, melodic, multi-versed, often complete with a bridge and coda. They are very stupid and very fun to sing. </p>
<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/f0b20906a2ad8afeb318bf69ab6366a9861d2bfa/original/lamby-gum.jpg?1490125829" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 0.8em;">Andy sings</span><strong style="font-size: 0.8em;"> Hooray for Lamby Gum</strong><span style="font-size: 0.8em;">, a dog treat distribution song - illustration by Merrill Markoe</span><br> </p>
<p>So, have I written happy songs? Yes, and they are about Dinky, Puppyboy, Wally, Jimmy, GinnyPins, Beany and Kittymouse. </p>
<p>They can also be about pie. Sometimes an odd phrase will ignite my asinine glee. While on a road trip, for example, Merrill and I saw a local restaurant touting its specialty: Pickle Pinto Bean Pie.<br> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/17909cfdc487d74490751bdda90e4475a8832938/original/pinto-bean.jpg?1490747185" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>For the next three hundred miles, I fiddled with the phrase until I felt it <em>scanned</em>. I then improvised a hearty Civil War era marching song about that legendary delicacy.I imagined the Irish Brigade singing it as they made their way up Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg <br><br>Oh, I had a great time! <br><br><a data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://andyprieboy.com/track/1212830">Listen to Pinto Pickle Pie!</a></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/e74d7434682eb4c8d400a33ed6e2767112004550/large/1-andy-and-merrill-3-done-edited-2.jpg?1490898871" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> <br><br>But a happy song about a lover? <br><br>Once. Just once. <br> </p>
<p><span class="font_xl"><strong>HEAVEN OR ANAHEIM </strong></span><span class="font_large"> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/d365b01c739533bdebd47fd19d0d0f0d7559645c/large/lincoln-heaven-or-anaheim-done-2.jpg?1490746461" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_small">Heaven or Anaheim -illustration by Andy Prieboy</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://andyprieboy.com/track/1212799"><span class="font_regular">Listen to Heaven or Anaheim</span></a></p>
<p>Coincidentally, my friend Simon Walkden had just written and asked about a song of mine that has been floating <em>for free </em>around the internet since God created Earthlink in 7 days. It's called Heaven or Anaheim. It was never on a record. What's the story?</p>
<p>I made demos of this song in 1993 and 1997. Someone entrusted with a copy traded it on-line and it's been downloadable ever since. Picking a phrase from the song, it was christened, vox populi, <em>Heaven or Anaheim</em>. A much better title.<br><br>Originally it was called <em>Lincoln Mk V. </em><br><br>Here is why:</p>
<p><strong>CRUISING ON COCAINE: </strong></p>
<p>At the time, I owned an Arctic white 1977 Lincoln MkV. It was a massive Carter era creampuff almost 20 feet long with a soft white leather interior and 3-inch white walls. These were one of the last, wasteful, unapologetic American luxury cars. And it did indeed have a Cartier clock inside.</p>
<p>A homeless man once looked at it, smiled, and said <em>'White body! White leather! White walls! That car look like cocaine!"</em><br>I am not one to give my car an adorable nickname, but<em> Cocaine</em> stuck. </p>
<p><br><strong>SO...ANYWAY... </strong></p>
<p>I had fallen in love. We'd get in Cocaine and drive all over LA from midnight until dawn. Needing very little, pleased with each other's company, every mile was an adventure, every topic mesmerizing. We talked and talked and talked. We laughed a lot. </p>
<p>One night on my way to pick her up, I just couldn't contain myself. That<em> </em>scene from a musical struck.My heart blossomed and out flourished this delighted, innocent song. To answer the original question, yes, I did write a happy song and did so while being so.<br> </p>
<p><b>DESTINY WAS UNKIND:</b><br><br>Oddly enough, eventually the car and the girl met the same fate: rear-ended by a drunken simpleton.<br></p>
<p>So, I let this tune wither and die.<br><br>I don't know about you, but for me, happy memories hurt way worse than the bad ones.<br><br>So, for now, it's back to writing lamentations, threnodies, and an occasional Lacrimosa or two.<br><br>And Dog Songs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's way safer.<br><br><br>==========================================================================================================================<br><span class="font_small">Timeline:<br><br>Haven or Anaheim was written in 1993. A very rough rendition with piano, vocal, and melodica was made on a Tascam four track at my home. It was titled 'We Can Drive" or 'Lincoln Mk V.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_small"> In 1997, I was brought to EMI Studios by my friend Desi Benjamin. We did a day's worth of live recording. This song was done along with many others. I </span><span class="font_small">believe</span><span class="font_small"> the 1997 version is the one most are </span><span class="font_small">familiar</span><span class="font_small"> with.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_small">Although it appears on a bootleg with other pilfered Voodoo demos, it was not a Wall of Voodoo song.</span></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/46145102017-03-09T13:56:48-08:002024-02-25T21:33:29-08:00THE BLACKBOARD SKY STORY<p> </p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/dfc851f73daf46cf3712c7105dc33fc83025d6e1/large/blackboard-sky-completed.jpg?1489090368" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><p> </p><p>Recently, my friend JtL from WallofVoodoo.com wrote and asked for the lyrics of Blackboard Sky. I am including them here with a little backstory.Thanks, JtL!<br><br>I am also offering a solo piano version of the song, gratis!<br><br><a class="no-pjax" href="https://andyprieboy.com/track/1199635" data-link-type="url">Download Blackboard Sky free here!</a> <br><br><span class="text-big"><strong>THE BLACKBOARD SKY STORY </strong></span></p><p>So, December 1983. About 9:30 pm. </p><p>A young man stops at the junction of Melrose and Cole. He waits to cross. He is tall, thin, and if you even noticed him you'd think <i>"another trendy art-twat who works retail ..." </i></p><p>If you looked real close, you might also opine<i> "that idiot dyed his hair so much, all the ends are all breaking off on top..." </i><br><br>What you can't possibly know, is that under all that hair dye and proto-Gothic fashion broods a heartbroken young man who, for the first time in his life, has had a love affair die on him </p><p>Poor soul.He is already struggling with a stalled music career. He has no band and no prospects. He is still new in town and is working retail for minimum wage. And to think, only a year ago, he signed a production deal and moved to LA. She came here with him to partake in that glorious future when (and if<i>)</i> he became a major label recording artist. </p><p>And it all went up in smoke... </p><p><i>No! Don't think of it! Don't think of it! Don't think of it! </i></p><p>There is nothing now but the endless jog between regret and recrimination. A never ending battle of protecting his fragile sense of self from the dragon of truth. </p><p>So, on the corner, he stops. He looks up at the dull night sky and thinks it looks like a dirty blackboard at the end of a long school day. </p><p>And then something comes over him. He lets it all go. To that ashen sky, he says, in effect, you take her. I can't carry this anymore. </p><p>He imagines drawing her face on that immense dirty blackboard. </p><p>Suddenly - in his mind, in his heart, he feels a little relief. The leaden skies clear, and he sees her differently: majestic as a cloud bank, distant as the full moon. She is too far away now to hurt him anymore. </p><p>Later that evening, he applies that moment to a song he'd already been working on. </p><p>"<i>I draw your face on the blackboard sky" </i>fits perfectly. </p><p>Now if he only had a band he could show it to. </p><p><span class="text-big"><strong>1985 </strong></span></p><p>'Oh, that's a very nice little Beatle song, Andy..." chided Chas.<br>"I think it's real pretty," Marc said. "Let's fuck it up." </p><p>And so they did. And it ended up on <i>Seven Days in Sammystown</i>. <br><br> </p><p>And that young man, no longer young but still dying his hair, plays it to this day. </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/46024422017-02-23T13:23:57-08:002022-03-16T01:16:30-07:00 WALL OF VOODOO 1985 : ADAM ANT, AQUA NET, AND THE BUBBLE HOLE<p>Lesley Morrall, Adam Ant's Wardrobe Supervisor, thoughtfully sent me these wonderful photos from the 1985 Adam Ant/Wall of Voodoo tour. <br> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>1985 - A Little Back Story:</strong></span><br><br><span class="font_regular">Our manager, Miles Copeland, had taken on Adam Ant as a client. With a new Ant album, <em>Vive le Rock</em>, Miles reasoned teaming Wall of Voodoo up as support would be an excellent way to debut Seven Days in Sammystown as well. The tour took us from Chicago to the East Coast, with Radio City Music Hall being the high point. From there, we worked our way south, concluding in Ft.Lauderdale, Fla. <br><br><span style="background-color: rgb(245, 246, 245);">I am deeply indebted to Lesley for sharing these photos. Brilliant, kindly, and incredibly gifted, she was a true pleasure to hang with. We Voodoos would often stop in the wardrobe room to chat with her before going on, or while Adam was on stage. <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/06f85f62cd840289c36b68ac406de7afd6b9999c/large/voodoo-washington-dc.jpg?1487884790" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></span></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_small"> </span><span class="font_regular">Nov 27th,1985 Constitution Hall, Washington, DC.</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_regular">Lesley shot this from behind the monitor board. I love the glowing meters!</span><br><span class="font_small"> </span><span class="font_small"> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_small"><img src="https://d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/a8cb0e3de5f224041822a74a9420f48325c6c5f9/large/16326054-10211793687376469-10234204-o.jpg?1487807482" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_regular">Andy and Ned with Lesley, backstage somewhere, waiting to go on.</span><br> </p>
<p><img src="https://d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/0ea25f25620b012065ecb716e094f60da44d6293/original/16325680-10211793688096487-437004375-o-copy.jpg?1487807685" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_regular">Bruce in Ft.Lauderdale.</span><br> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/351600c7b0cc34b580f68a56369307a654e9a55e/large/chas-marc-andy-dc.jpg?1487808849" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Chas T.Gray, Marc Moreland, and Andy Prieboy.<br>Note the Ole' and Rollo keyboards.<br> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/d7842ad33194f57bba4eee6eb1629f65aca4033e/large/16326164-10211793688176489-275349119-o-copy.jpg?1487809135" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">A beautiful shot of Marc. God rest his soul.<br><br> I believe he is holding his phone list on top of the cigarette pack. Marc always carried an ever growing, constantly updated, weathered list of phone numbers in his wallet. <br> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/861869f4917d95698bffc44b092f66e8a2975a41/original/16326096-10211794690921557-180064356-o.jpg?1487828458" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Aqua Net Poster Boy.<br><br>Chas T.Gray would often refer to me as<em> Beauty Queen.</em><br> </p>
<p><img src="https://d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/e28f7418be663708a8c6844d14e31b106aee5ece/large/16389422-10211794685961433-947772878-o.jpg?1487809341" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Ned, Chas, Marc, and our good friend and road crew member, Dave "Kiwi" Burlace.<br> </p>
<p>I love this photo: End of the Tour.Cleaning out the tour bus. Heading home.<br><br>I know these facial expressions far too well: Marc is walking towards Lesley, who is taking the photo. He is about to do something extremely funny. Ned, Chas, and Dave anticipate what is coming.</p>
<p><br>Marc had a deadly sense of humor and an innate gift for physical comedy. Although demure, soft spoken, and often shy, when Marc saw <em>the funny</em> he became confident, sure of himself and<em> quick</em>. He'd pounce. His suppressed smile seen here often proceeded his comedic assaults<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/d69fc94b8d10f4fd784ecce8002af45e9e283f5e/large/16326725-10211794685921432-1823008957-o.jpg?1487826769" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Chas and Marc: always with the <em>schtick. </em>A very deep friendship.</p>
<p><br>By the way, that mobile home was our tour bus, It was called<strong> <em>D'Bubba Ho.</em></strong><br><br>All Voodoo tour conveyances were called <em><strong>D'Bubba Ho</strong>.</em><br><br>Why?<br> </p>
<p>The name came from a conversation Chas and Ned had with a man on a Florida beach about crabs. <em>"You can try and catch that crab,"</em> the man said "<em>but he goes down into the sand and gets away. Next thing you know, he's way over there, waving to you from the bubble hole." </em>His southern patois had him pronounce "the bubble hole" as<strong> <em>D' Bubba Ho.</em> </strong><br><br>Thus, every tin can with wheels, choked with Voodoo smoke, smut, and stale boozy sweat was our nasty little <em>bubble hole/bubba ho.<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/7d9bfffa9aa3fb1fd4a5a50c82da169c407a8147/large/marc-and-lesley.jpg?1487829636" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><br>Marc and Lesley...and all the flotsam and jetsam from the bus.<br><br>Marc is happy. I recall that pleasant, relaxed smile when he was at peace.<br><br><em>If I may ne'er behold again <br>That form and face so dear to me, <br>Nor hear thy voice, still, would I fain <br>Preserve, for aye, their memory. </em><br><br><br>I know I speak on behalf of all the members of Wall of Voodoo and our many fans: bless you, Lesley, once more, for sharing these moments with us.</p>
<p> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/45982662017-02-20T18:42:35-08:002022-03-07T01:32:13-08:00WHEN IT RAINS IN LA<p><span class="font_large"><strong><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/f0fa8ea1a1a4f716692d569a2c4ee78414ccfd80/large/noah-edited-tweaking-2-2.jpg?1487640866" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></strong></span></p>
<p>During the current California rainstorms, I revived this old, old song. <br><br><strong>The Short Story:</strong><br>The sequel to Noah and The Flood in modern Los Angeles.<br><br><strong>The Long Story:</strong><br><strong>1987</strong><br>While gathering songs for the follow-up to <em>Sammystown</em>, I wrote a basic version of When It Rains in LA. The lyrics were a simple-minded ode to love accented by a rare Los Angeles rain. Though I made a fully orchestrated model, I never showed it to Voodoo. It was just too common a chord progression and too romantic a theme. </p>
<p>I never developed it further than a first draft and so, the song went into hibernation.<br><br><strong>1990</strong><br>By the time I was working on my first solo album in 1990, I became friends with Carlos, an El Salvadorian custodian at MCA Universal where I recorded. As I was there five nights a week, 8 pm until 3 am, we'd often hang and shoot the shit on our breaks.</p>
<p>During a rainstorm, I returned to the song with a new story: God, in true Hollywood fashion, decides to make a sequel to The Flood. Sticking to the terms of His contract, He spares the world and just drowns LA. However, our merciful God spares the outcasts in that city of dreams. </p>
<p>I pictured Carlos, the humble, hard-working immigrant, in the role of Noah.</p>
<p>I envisioned long, detailed, sadistic narrative of a deluged Hollywood.<br>The first two verses and chorus were as far as I got.<br><br>And the song, once again, hibernated.<br> </p>
<p><strong>2013</strong><br>At the piano one evening, I happened upon When it Rains in LA and decided to finish it. To hell with the long narrative. Noah gathers the losers and now what? Does he build an Ark? Oh, God, everybody does that. No. Too boring.</p>
<p>I got it: God instructs Noah to hi-jack the Queen Mary. Fill it full of the unknown and unwanted.</p>
<p>Perfect.</p>
<p>Very Voodoo.</p>
<p><br>Done.<br><br>Well, almost. Sort of. There needed to be a coda or something. There needs be a little wasabi and pickled ginger at the end of the chorus. Some kind of chord change.<br><br>And nothing came.<br><br>And the song hibernates again.<br><br><strong>February 2017</strong><br>It begins to rain. I sing the song. I figure out the end of the chorus. A little coda. A chord change.</p>
<p><br>Done:<br><br>And to paraphrase The Book of Genesis <em>"...In the thirtieth year, on the twentieth day of the second month since its inception, the song came to rest upon the mountains of Ararat."</em></p>
<p><br><a contents="Listen to When It Rains in LA" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://andyprieboy.com/track/1188549">Listen to When It Rains in LA</a><br> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/43652072017-01-19T10:21:49-08:002022-03-06T00:26:51-08:00Upon My Wicked Son Photoshoot: The Backstory<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/3a6b82e3e8a793e79e96b97cafe7439bfaded49e/original/wicked-son-test-shot.jpeg?1473458918" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: right;"><span class="font_small">Photo by Reggie Ige 1990</span></p>
<p>I happened upon this old test Polaroid from the photoshoot of 'Upon My Wicked Son'.</p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>There Is A Story Behind This Picture.</strong></span><br><span class="font_regular">Of course there is.</span><br>But, long story short? I can't tell it here.<br><br>Sorry.<br>Well, okay. I'll tell you a little bit... <br><br>In the photo, I am standing in my home. I am in the dining room.<br>It's winter, about 8 pm on a small, dimly lit dead-end street in Echo Park. <br><br><span class="font_large"><b>What You Don't Know:</b></span><br><br>A thick, sharp, long knife sits on the lamp table in front of me.</p>
<p>I had the knife just in case the crazy people came back with their gun.<br><br>It had been that kind of day.<br><br><br> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>The Night Before:</strong></span><br><br>Let me simply say <em>The LAPD left the house at about 8:30 AM</em>. There was fingerprint powder <em>everywhere.</em><br>The day went by in a fog of fitful naps and phone calls. Crazy phone calls. Stalker-y phone calls. Spooky hang up phone calls.<br><br>When the photographer, Reggie Ige, showed up for the shoot, I was shot... metaphorically speaking.<br> </p>
<p>The photo below? Another test Polaroid, probably the first of the session.<br><br>I used it for my <em>Virtue Triumphs</em> album cover recently. What looks like a nice<em> sensitive rock boy</em> photo is, in fact, a perfect capture of a man who is shocked, dismayed, exhausted and heartsick. <br><br>Worried, too.<br><br>What if the crazy people with guns come back? </p>
<p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/4a4b29a774b6fcff72f682d1d702935c6caed2aa/large/andy-wicked-son.jpg?1473493565" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><strong><span class="font_large">So next time you happen upon that old album...</span></strong><br><br>Remember I am packing a <em>chef's knife, </em>guarding against gun toting maniacs while posing for my first solo album.<br><br>Say cheese!<br> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>On a Brighter Note:</strong></span><br>Here is where the photoshoot took place.<br><br><br><strong><span class="font_large">( </span><span class="font_regular">A </span><span class="font_large">) </span></strong>I stood in the dining room. Reggie Ige took this picture with his back to the piano<span class="font_regular"> </span><span class="font_large"><strong>( </strong></span><span class="font_regular"><strong>B </strong></span><span class="font_large"><strong>)</strong></span> which was near the front door**.<br><br><strong><span class="font_large">( </span>C <span class="font_large">)</span></strong> My home where the photo was taken ..<br><br>By the way, in my late 30s, I had just learned to drive. That is my first car, a 1968 Thunderbird:<em>V-8 Wonder of the Western World.</em><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/7b3f277aeb9c54ed8ec0303825cf6511fbbd9bf5/large/wicked-son-locals-2.jpg?1484505168" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /><br> </p>
<p>The photos of the house were taken about 1990. Echo Park at the time was a seedy, gang-y ,forgotten district of LA. It was funky n' forlorn then. It is ritzy n' white-sy now. <br><br>I shared this house with an extremely gifted woman, Gretchen Victor. We were strictly brother -and-sister best- friends. She had a fantastic eye for decoration and collecting. So much so, in fact, that I credited her on the album. If you look closely, you will see that she had hung a portrait of the Virgin of Guadalupe next to the front door. Many times I would leave the house and find the local gangsters hanging out, looking up meekly at The Virgin<em>. </em>Talking quietly. Discussing <em>Her</em>. </p>
<p><br>It was a very happy, productive time for me. When Wall of Voodoo sank and the tormenting Eighties were over, this is the shore I swam to. For the first time in ages, I found a degree of peace, prosperity, and sanity.<br><br>Give or take a few rough nights... or weeks... or months now and then.<br><br><br>**(Piano photo by Kim Bacus)<br><br> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/45272982016-12-29T22:51:35-08:002022-03-16T01:18:18-07:00 A Lot More Love. A free download for you.<p><strong>Happy new year. A gift for you.</strong><br><br>Why this song? </p>
<p><em>I could have used a lot more love - </em>The idea behind the lyric seems simple. At first listen, it appears it is a lament where I wish I had been loved better and more often throughout my life.<br> <br>That is not the case. </p>
<p>What moved me to write this song was realizing that I could have <em>loved better.</em> I could have loved <em>more</em>. <br>So many times, I should have used love<em> first</em>. <br><br>I believe it a proper sentiment for the year we are facing. I offer it here to you. A small gesture of my<br>gratitude to you all. </p>
<p>I wish you the strength to love in the year to come. May tolerance and empathy always be your preemptive move.<br><br>Gratefully,<br><br>Andy Prieboy</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>A Lot More Love </strong></p>
<p>I've been walking all night <br>I've been walking 'till dawn <br>I've been a fool all my life <br>I never fooled anyone <br>And my summers have gone <br>And my winter has come <br>And the one thing that I'm thinking of: <br>I could have used a lot more love. </p>
<p>Right to the heart <br>And a left to the jaw <br>Bright were the stars <br>They were the last thing I saw <br>And I tried to be strong <br>And I tried to be tough <br>But I'm never ever tough enough <br>I could have used a lot more love </p>
<p>And when the moon comes up <br>In a pool of blood <br>I could have used a lot more love</p>
<p> </p>2:25Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/45064942016-12-12T15:00:40-08:002022-03-16T01:19:02-07:00THE LOST WALL OF VOODOO ALBUM COVER<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/cfd6bd254e0292d4c7b5fb21db397d8831f5ff4a/large/drew-voodoo.jpg?1481511662" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Mount Schtick-More by Drew Friedman. </strong></span><br><br><br><span class="font_large"><strong>1985: </strong></span><br>Lords of the New Church front man, label mate, and friend Stiv Bators tells me the following: </p>
<p>"If IRS Records ever suggests you guys do a live record, your days are numbered. They'll say a live album will <em>spark some interest</em>. Don't trust them. It's just a way for them to squeeze a few bucks off your name before they axe you. It's what they did to us." </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>1987: </strong></span><br>My second album with Wall of Voodoo, <em>Happy Planet</em>, was failing to chart. Our tours were sold out and the shows were good but there was little airplay and thus low sales. So it goes. </p>
<p>A few weeks before we left for a tour of Australia, the CEO of our label called us in for a meeting. "Boys! " he crowed merrily, "We wanna do a live record! " </p>
<p>We said no. We said fuck no. Stupid idea. Recording live, in the middle of the Happy Planet Tour meant that 80% of the live record would be Happy Planet songs. No one wanted Happy Planet. Why, we reasoned, re-record a rejected record? </p>
<p>The CEO said a live record would <em>'spark some interest.' </em></p>
<p>The live recording crew were booked and would be there waiting for us in Melbourne, like it or not. ***</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>LATER: DREW VOODOO CALLS DREW FRIEDMAN </strong></span></p>
<p>With a heavy heart, I saw the writing on the wall: We were an LA band now teetering on the edge of oblivion. Just as Stiv had forewarned, our rinky-dink label was grabbing a few pennies before flushing us down the shit hole. </p>
<p>I knew there was only one person who could capture this pathetic state of affairs: Drew Friedman. I had spent many hours transfixed by his gritty-yet-hilarious-yet-heartbreaking drawings. If you live in Hollywood long enough, life begins to looks like Drew is the art director. </p>
<p>I contacted him and, after discussing ideas, commissioned him to do the album cover: a Mount Rushmore of sleazy, schamltz-y, Los Vegas-y entertainers: Jerry Lewis, Sammy Davis, Fat Elvis, and Bob Hope. The Ugly Americans. </p>
<p>In two weeks Drew's <strong>Mount Schtick-More</strong> arrived. </p>
<p>I howled! <br>I guffawed! <br>I laughed my fucking head off! </p>
<p>I showed it to Wall of Voodoo. <br>They howled! <br>Guffawed! <br>They laughed their fucking heads off! </p>
<p>I showed it to the execs at IRS Records. </p>
<p>They paled. <br>They blanched. <br>They wet their slacks. </p>
<p><strong>NO.FUCKING.WAY! </strong></p>
<p>"Why!?" I asked. "Why not?" </p>
<p>"We'd get sued!" they said. </p>
<p>"By who?" </p>
<p>"Jerry Lewis for one" </p>
<p> "Wall of Voodoo vs The Nutty Professor!?" I said. "That would be so fucking cool! "</p>
<p> " ...And sued by Sammy Davis!" they continued "And by Bob Hope! And the estate of Elvis fucking Presley!" </p>
<p>I said a lawsuit like that would certainly<em> "spark some interest."</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>IN THE END </strong></span></p>
<p>The Drew Friedman's Mount Schtick-More was rejected. There wasn't even a mock-up made. Begrudgingly, it was used as a header for the WoV press release.It was also used inside the cd booklet. They felt the images falsely inferred Elvis,Bob, Sammy, and Jerry were touring with Wall of Voodoo -(If they were, I doubt even they could have sold any more Happy Planet records than we had.)**<br><br>IRS also made a few shoddy T-shirts,hoping to make their money back. My buddy in the IRS art department slipped me Drew's work when they were done with it. I have kept it safe since.</p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>TODAY: </strong></span><br>A few years ago, Drew invited me and my beloved Merrill to a swanky party full of swanky Hollywood writers who were celebrating the release of Drew's latest book at that time:<em> Heroes of the Comics</em>. I showed up like a pathetic 60 year old fan boy, carrying my Wall of Voodoo album art under my arm. He graciously signed it. <br>Framed, it now dwells on the wall of my studio.<br><br>(**Thanks to Todd Longwell for reminding me of the booklet.)<br><br>***There was a loophole in the contract that allowed IRS to do this after record #2. <br><br><b>CORRECTIONS:</b><br>Geir Age Lia of Norway points out that Drew's work was used as the cover of a WoV giveaway promotion.</p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/45024202016-12-08T14:09:23-08:002022-03-06T00:35:00-08:00 A Story Told In Two Photos. Wall of Voodoo 1984 to 1986<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/f02a63369483f76409982ff68b03bcb1f1332877/large/voodoo-1984.jpeg?1481225647" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /><span class="font_xl"><strong>Wall of Voodoo 1984</strong></span><br>London<br>Uncredited </p>
<p>Just off the plane from LA.,we are about to start The Lords of the New Church/Wall of Voodoo Tour. We had spent the year carving a new band from the old. In this photo, we are untested. Still somewhat strangers. We are without a record deal. Sammystown was a long, frustrating year away. <br><br>We are dark horses. Extremely dark. Audaciously, we book a tour of the UK, where the original Voodoo was beloved .<br><br>Although Marc seems proud, parental, and protective, I am hidden. Vulnerable. Vigilant. I subconsciously do the nose-tap-Charades gesture for <em>you-guessed right : Me. Andy Prieboy. I am the new singer. </em><br><br>I knew it would be tough : the hour of battle was now upon me. <br><br>After this shoot, Chas and Marc would go off to be interviewed. The old Wall of Voodoo introducing the new. You can see from this photo that they are guiding this ship. <br><br><br>During this time, I would listen to Bruce,Marc and Chas tell old stories and/or gripe about the previous band. Their early days. The old struggles. The success. The fall. They were seasoned pros who had seen and done and accomplished so much.<br><br>I wondered if one day we would ever reminisce like that.<br> </p>
<p>Sitting there on an apple crate, I couldn't imagine it.</p>
<p><br><strong><span class="font_xl">Wall of Voodoo 1986</span></strong><br>Australia.<br>Uncredited <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/2366e4312099efb60e5d54ce0208886f1d71e8c5/large/comp-1-2.jpg?1481229690" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_small">Two and half years later. Taken, I believe, in Australia just before we went on stage.</span><br> </p>
<p>It would be a painful,hilarious, slanderous, X-rated autobio if I ever wrote what transpired between the first photo and this one.<br><br>Promoting <em>Seven Days in Sammystown</em>, we had crossed The States, Europe, Scandinavia, and, flying through the Chernobyl cloud, came at last to Australia. </p>
<p>Our song, 'Far Side of Crazy', was in the Australian Top Ten. We had been on the road seemingly for ever, playing every night.Traveling thousands and thousands of miles. Thus, this is a portrait of a band that had faced down a great deal of opposition and doubt. A band that had done an enormous amount of work, and did so fully committed to one another. A portrait of five guys who are exhausted, in some cases ill. A perfect moment to take a picture :on the other side of that wall, an expectant audience waited. There is a show to do and we face it relaxed, controlled and confident. <br><br>We had survived. In many ways succeeded in spite of those who said we couldn't, wouldn't and shouldn't. <br><br>We were now more than a band. We were a brotherhood. A bond that lasts to this day. I had come along way from that first timid photo in London. There would be another five years of this madness.</p>
<p>So, yes, even at this point, were were quite able to reminisce .<br><br> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/44524232016-11-04T11:51:33-07:002022-03-06T00:36:35-08:00WHEN THE HEART AWAKES - About that Choir...<p><span class="font_xl"><strong><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/a3612b1f4932ef10804f9d086b70daa37e03d8c2/original/andy-web-32.jpg?1478208561" class="size_l justify_center border_" />When the Heart Awakes </strong></span><br><br><br><a contents="Listen to When the Heart Awakes" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1120937">Listen to When the Heart Awakes</a></p>
<p>The first song I wrote from this collection, When the Heart Awakes is a mother's lament. It's a portrait of a troubled woman who gave up custody of her daughter, as she ponders what her child will think the day she grows up and looks back. </p>
<p>This arrangement hinges on the performance of Cassie Webb, an exceptional singer, a friend and sister-songwriter at MCA Music Publishing where this was cut. I had tried a few previous versions, but felt they were not telling the story clearly. I asked Cassie if she could create a choir behind my vocal. She said it be no problem, requesting only that she be allowed to arrange it according to her aesthetic, as she saw fit. Sure thing! So, one evening, she, Scott Thunes and I recorded the song a few times live. I picked the best take and then turned it over to her. </p>
<p>For the next two days, Cassie weaved a choir track by track. We sat transfixed. Hour by hour the tracks were laid and the choir grew. She kept detailed notes of each take, marking their notation and nuance.Her partner, writer/producer David Skeet, sat at the mixing consul and assisted her in keeping track of all the subtly different layers. I would suggest the kind listener pay close attention to Cassie's sense of dynamics: her choir has a full understanding and intimacy with the lyrics.<br><br>It was a remarkable two days. I was a little sad when she said her part was done. I wanted to sit there forever watching Cassie work, listening to her magnificent voice. <br> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/44507412016-11-03T15:43:12-07:002022-03-16T01:20:29-07:00HONEY DON'T BE GOOD TO ME: ONE OF MY FAVORITES ON VIRTUE TRIUMPHS<p><span class="font_large"><strong><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/e03706c5dd2a005962a09042a9b4172f4cc59c06/large/virtue-triumphs-cover.jpg?1478202675" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></strong></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_xl"><strong>Honey Don't Be Good to Me </strong></span></p>
<p>Last week, I commented on the title track of Virtue Triumphs. Today, I highligh the album' second track. Not only is it one of my favorite songs, it is also among the oldest.<br><br> <a contents="Listen to Honey Don't Be Good To Me" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1120919">Listen to Honey Don't Be Good To Me</a></p>
<p> I wrote it in 1978, when I was in my early twenties and living in San Francisco. There had been a lover's spat. Words were exchanged and doors were slammed. Embarrassed, I sat down at the piano and <em>Honey Don't Be Good to Me</em> came pouring out. I was able to capture that little turbulent demon inside of me and put him in a glass jar for examination. This song was his ornery story . </p>
<p> A popular tune with my first band, Eye Protection, I revived it in 1990 as it fit Virtue Triumph's general bleak theme. <br><br> Scott Thunes, bassist of Frank Zappa's band, creates a haunting pulse for Cassie Webb's ethereal, anguished keening. <br><br>While trying to define the song's spirit, the three of us often referred the stark, eerie landscapes from Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter. <br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/3b556cda0c17b866d88c14ca8562fb22705f709a/large/shot57.jpg?1478202455" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br>Andy Prieboy - Vocals, piano, keyboard <br>Scott Thunes - Bass <br>Cassie Webb - Vocals, vocal arrangement</p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/42241782016-10-24T14:25:30-07:002022-03-16T01:21:37-07:00The long lost album, Virtue Triumphs, out soon!<p><strong><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/fa41987d3243c0ddff960732112a3cd72e4bc690/original/virtue-2.jpg?1466492704" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></span></strong><span class="font_small">Virtue Triumphs When the Devil Sleeps By Judy Schaechter </span><br><br><a contents="Listen to VIRTUE TRIUMPHS" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1111558">Listen to VIRTUE TRIUMPHS</a></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>LOST AND FOUND! </strong></span></p>
<p>While digitizing hundreds of old cassettes, I have been able to reconstruct my long lost, unfinished album: Virtue Triumphs. Started soon after the 1990 release of Upon My Wicked Son, this collection was ultimately caught in the cross-fire of a corporate war and never finished. Until now, these tracks have been sitting in storage . </p>
<p>I am very happy to finally bring them to light. </p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>About the Collection:1990-1992 </strong></span></p>
<p> Virtue Triumphs was my first body of work that was not beholden to Wall of Voodoo. Crawling out from the wreckage of a tumultuous decade, the record begins with the grim side-show recitative I've included here . It proposes that human beings are ethical only when chance gives them no other options. </p>
<p><em>"Oh sweet Salvation, we avoid temptation <br> When temptation avoids us!" </em></p>
<p>As I said, for me , the eighties were <em>tumultuous... </em></p>
<p>Though the album does not follow a direct narrative, the song's characters wade through themes like obsession, belligerence, guilt, and addiction. Eventually remorse and empathy come into play, leading to a search for grace and renewal. </p>
<p>Well, that was the plan, at any rate. <br><br>When the fucking corporate axe fell this work was caught under the blade and left behind. I was devastated <em>for years. </em> So much for fucking grace and renewal.* These cassettes with their rough mixes and sketches were all that remained. Where the master tapes are today , I have no idea. <br> </p>
<p>1995's Sins of Our Fathers included a few of these songs but on Virtue Triumphs you will hear the original versions , done when they were new, unexplored, and in some cases, unfinished. </p>
<p>There are also quite a few songs included that have never been released ...</p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Musical Personae </strong></span></p>
<p>Twenty seven years later , I am still moved by the performances of the musicians on Virtue Triumphs. Frank Zappa's bassist , Scott Thunes , is astonishing on songs like Love Won't Be Here Tonight, Tell Me River and You Got to Go Up. Singer Cassie Webb creates an incredible one woman choir on When The Heart Awakes . Together, Scott and Cassie construct an eerie , beautiful background on Honey, Don't Be Good to Me, which started life as an old Eye Protection song from 1978. </p>
<p> Also, appearances by Grammy winning songwriter and producer Jeff Trott and Zappa Alumnus , guitar and keyboard master Mike Keneally . </p>
<p><span class="font_regular"><strong>At Present: </strong></span><br>I am very busy writing up the lyrics sheets and doing the art work. I aim to have this ready for release by early November. </p>
<p> I am thrilled to be able to share it with you soon.<br><br><span class="font_small">(*See 'Who Do You Think We're Coming For" on Sins of our Fathers)</span></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/43632552016-10-05T16:13:27-07:002022-03-16T01:22:28-07:00It's Not a Negative No<p style="text-align: center;">The Song of Music Business Executives Who Reject An Artistic Endeavor By Applying Positive Reinforcement <br> <a contents="Listen to it here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1104573"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/8dafd7ca7a264120ea76a0fdad3c8045db32c3ff/large/neg-no-for-sllog.jpg?1473539841" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></a><strong>The Backstory</strong></p>
<p>In the 1980s, an artist needed a record contract. We were dependent on the cash advance that would pay for recording at a great studio with a great producer. And pay for some new gear. And pay our back rent. And back taxes. And maybe some new shoes. And maybe get that tooth fixed before we lose it...<br><br>And back then, some of the deals were obscene: $500,000 contracts were being doled out to cute 23 year old white junky boys on the strength of their caucasoid cuteness and stylistic kinship to GnR. Adjusted for inflation, that's <strong>$1,100,000 </strong>handed over to a newly formed band of post-teen addicts. Interject the threadbare '<em>what could go wrong?" </em>here.<br><br><br>Anyway... a large advance from a major or a modest one from an indy, most of us needed their help.</p>
<p>An artist would prepare a demo tape of new songs and hand them to our managers. The manager would shop the tape. Managers had personal relationships with the people at the labels . When he said <em>''Joe Baggadonuts at Warner's wants to hear something </em>" it was the same dulcet tones that <em>'Cathy Baginski thinks you're kinda cute" </em>was high fived in high school.<br>Your heart would soar a little.<br>You'd stand taller. The sun would come out. Someone was<em> interested! </em>You hoped Joe Baggadonuts flipped for them and offered a deal. </p>
<p>In my case, the various major label Joe's never ponied up. Thus I have, like all musicians, a collection of rejection quotes. For example, one fellow said he didn't care for the<em> guitars</em>, though he asked to hear some <em>songs</em>. Nice... Another said he loved a certain song so much, he wanted to give me a record deal... and, of course didn't. <em>And "I like it but I'm not sure anyone else will" </em>was said six different times by six different suits.<br><br>Most maddeningly, there would be the orgasmic reactions - <em>I love it! </em>- and then... silence.<br> </p>
<p>And so, the present collection of demos would get stale, rejected, and new tapes were needed. So, another period of writing, demoing, mixing, and shopping them. Eventually my manager would call to give me the play-by play of what imbecile didn't like which brilliant song for what moronic reason.</p>
<p>It got to the point where I said, "Look, Mel, just send out the tapes. If you hear anything good, let me know. If it's bad, just keep it to yourself. <em>Please." </em><br> </p>
<p>And then, one day it happened. I walked into the my manager's office. </p>
<p>"I have good news!" he teased. <br>'What!" I said. <br>'Goooood news" he chimed. <br>'What!?" <br><br>'We heard back from Clive Davis! 'Wanna hear the letter!?" <br><br>Do I want to hear the letter from <em>Clive Davis</em>! He was a man of vision! His label, Arista, was reputed to be very artist friendly. Clive<em> built</em> careers. This wasn't some soulless corporate necropolis like Capital. This was <em>Arista</em>! This was Clive Davis! He signed Patti Smith and The fucking Kinks! <br><br>'Yes! Yes!" I said. 'Read it ! Read it !" </p>
<p><br> <em><span class="font_large"><strong> Dear Mel, <br> Thank you so much for sending me Andy Prieboy's latest demo. After careful consideration, I have decided that we do not have the time or resources to take on an artist of Andy's calibre... </strong></span></em><br> <br>Mel looked at me and beamed.</p>
<p>I blinked.<br><br>Mel smiled.<br><br>'Thats...thats <em>no</em>!" I said.</p>
<p>Mel still smiled. As if I hadn't understood, he repeated <em>"we do not have the time or resources to take on an artist of Andy's calibre."</em><br><br>I stood silent, mystified. <br><br>He stressed slowly: "<em> an-artist-of-Andys-cal-i-bre!" </em></p>
<p>"... but...that...means no." I said. </p>
<p>'Well, okay... yes, it's no" said Mel, exasperated '...but <em>it's not a negative no." </em><br> </p>
<p>I rolled my eyes and imagined an operetta where an army of music business executives merrily reject the works of desperate, deserving artists. </p>
<p>And, lo these many years later, here it is.<br><br><br><a contents="Listen to it here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1104573">Listen to it here</a></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/43947782016-09-28T17:43:46-07:002022-03-07T01:26:43-08:00A LONG LOST SONG DISCOVERED! <p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/926e459fa2be298556247ea57a7b5168d655de1d/original/crazy-crazy.jpg?1475094921" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><span class="font_xl"><strong>(These Times Are) Crazy-Crazy </strong></span><br>Johnette Napolitano, Wire Train, Andy Prieboy. <br>1993 </p>
<p><strong>Where I found it: </strong></p>
<p>While digitizing hundreds of old tapes, I happened upon this song in an unmarked cassette. <br>My jaw dropped. I had completely forgotten it. </p>
<p>Johnette is incredible! </p>
<p><strong>So, Lets go back to 1993 ... </strong></p>
<p>Before Hollywood Boulevard got all bullshitted up, it was a dim, grim, dying shadow of it's old Silent Era self. Office space was as cheap and plentiful as the landlords were desperate. On the fabled corner of Hollywood and Vine, my friends in Wire Train took their record advance and rented out an entire floor. There they made a rough-hewn recording studio where this song began. </p>
<p>It was a great place to hang. </p>
<p><strong>The Song:</strong></p>
<p>I can't recall exactly how this all started. Maybe somebody sang a Parliament Funkadelic kind of line, then somebody else played a riff and the drums followed.Lyrics were quickly cobbled together , and someone pressed 'record'. Something like that. What i do recall is lots of friends, music and fun. I could be wrong in detail, but, it's birth went something like that. <br><br>I think the plan was to come back later and edit, enlarge, tweak, freak, and finesse the lyrics and track. That never happened and the recording went on to be buried for 23 years under hundreds of other cassettes... until now. </p>
<p>If memory serves, this was a joint effort. Therefore I am posting this as one of the authors.<br><br>It is not for sale here or anywhere. I don't feel entitled to profit from it without everyone's participation. </p>
<p>Still, I felt the the song should be heard. </p>
<p>By Napolitano, Trott, Rundeblad, Hunter, Bruni, McLeod, Prieboy</p>
<p> </p>
<p><a contents="Listen to These Times Are Crazy Crazy" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1101239">Listen to These Times Are Crazy Crazy</a></p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/42872002016-09-21T15:03:30-07:002022-03-07T01:27:32-08:00Footnotes<p><strong><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/373002b0b168e319a9400734d502f7ee661fb7b4/original/slog-footnotes.jpg?1474500445" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></strong></p>
<p>"<strong>Footnotes " </strong>came to me in a roundabout fashion. <br><br>A while back, a friend of mine was very ill. To cheer him up, I would make recordings. Informal. Songs of mine or cover songs. That sort of thing. One evening, I was moved to revisit a song from our youth: 96 Tears by Question Mark and The Mysterians, a group of Mexican-American boys from Saginaw Michigan ,all the sons of migrant workers. I did a slow, dirge like version of it for my friend and sent it off.<br><br>Among 96 Tears many charms, I was once again moved by Frank Rodriguez's immortal, cheeky Vox organ riff. Only 14 when he spawned it , his was the perfect counterpoint to Question Mark's dark soliloquy: It was as if Hamlet were staged on a beach while a juke box played Booker T and the MGs . <br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/84b6eeb0ce7e69e925332e0f5a5520436f3c946f/large/question-mark.jpg?1473031716" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Back in 1966, when I was 11, there was no one who couldn't learn to play that simple melody of Frank's. Euterpe, the mythological Greek muse of music, had whispered to him. By writing something so perfectly simple, Frank gave the gift of musical ability to anyone who tried. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/255f2c6db5bee51581f05e9f0b0a9b3d7b6455b9/original/euterpe-done.jpg?1473024972" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_small"><strong>Euterpe Bestows a Gift To Frank Rodriguez, Question Mark, and The Mysterians</strong></span></p>
<p><br>It got me thinking of all the musicians, artists, and authors who made a huge single contribution, but for one reason or another, got lost or pushed aside by larger forces. Their individual stories would make a great song cycle.<br>*FOOTNOTES would be the opening to a musical that tells their stories. I built the song on the 96 Tears riff. <br><br><br><br><br><a contents="Listen to *Footnotes here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1059221">Listen to *Footnotes here.</a><br>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- </p>
<p><strong> A Footnote Further: </strong><br> <br>The Mysterian's dazzling ride to the top was short lived. By 1968, they had failed to chart and Question Mark was busted for sniffing glue. On top of that rock music had changed: the time of sneering, to-the-point singles and proto-punk garage bands had passed. Now began the era of concept albums, rock operas, and the synthesis of rock and poetry. Jim Morrison put a nail in The Mysterian's coffin by declaring '<strong>I don't like bubblegum music like Question Mark and The Mysterians..."</strong><br><br>Euterpe wept ...<br><br><strong><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/05285431a5a5deb3c221b5e962800961ecf8f7bd/original/002-jim-morrison-nyc-1967-edited-1.jpg?1473024929" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></strong><br> </p>
<hr><p> </p>
<p><strong>PLEASE NOTE: </strong><br>Unfortunately Apple doesn't allow downloads directly through their iOS system, so files can't be downloaded directly on devices like iPhones or iPads. I'm sorry about that! </p>
<p>Apple does kindly allow you to purchase my work directly onto a computer and transfer it to your iPhone iPods. And for that we must be grateful to our Corporate Insect Masters. Always.</p>
<p><br> </p>
<p>Footnotes <br>If you would prefer to purchase this song on iTunes and give them a % of your hard earned buck, go to:</p>
<p>http://itunes.apple.com/album/id1157792132?ls=1&app=itunes</p>
<p><br> </p>Andy Prieboytag:andyprieboy.com,2005:Post/42496592016-09-17T13:18:45-07:002022-03-07T01:24:51-08:00Build a Better Garden<div><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/f5e09d0a98a21e0dd8f6eea870d6b2d7e31ab373/original/garden-3.jpg?1473894671" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /></span></div>
<p><strong>BUILD A BETTER GARDEN</strong> has a history almost as long as the Book of Genesis itself. </p>
<p>The original was written about 1993. It took me many weeks and cigarettes to write. In those pre-google days, I put together the list of battles,treaties and wars by scouring through my books. More weeks and cigarettes followed trying to make it all rhyme. In a good-enough state, I recorded a rough demo using a Tascam four track, Casio drum machine, and my badly tuned pianoforte. Jeff Trott dropped by my Silver Lake home and added a rich layer of guitars. </p>
<p>By the time I tracked it for Sins of the Father, in 1995, I had decided to slow it down. At the time, I was advised that if I made it shorter,Garden might be released as a single. So out went the list of battles and treaties, which can only be heard as superfluous fade-candy when the song ends. </p>
<p>And then, of course, it never became a fucking single, so kiss all that lyrical work good fucking bye. </p>
<p>As the song begins, Satan is attempting to comfort Adam and Eve after God has expelled them from the Garden of Eden. "We won't need that old Garden,"the Prince of Darkness crows "we will build a better one!". He lists all the wonders that will lay before them: bars, booze, shampoo, sex toys, Buicks, glorious wars with their battles and well intended treaties, not failing to mention "white trash strippers named Tammy, Lynn and Tawny.<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/205596/a88a023db9a108e568d70ed49ec1fb48f793d0a6/original/satan-consols.jpg?1473111001" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_small">Satan Consoles Adam and Eve With a Bright New Idea</span></p>
<p><br><strong>About Verse Two:</strong><br><br>My intention for Satan to hold forth on the rudiments of supply and demand economics in verse. Transfixed by the sound of his own voice, he spoke of Cain and Abel and the mortal struggle that was to ensue.<br><br>Better minds than mine have pointed out that The Story of Cain and Abel is an allegory for the triumph of agriculture over Nomadism. Abel, a meek shepherd wandering the earth in a state of happy acceptance is at one with God and is thusly blessed. Cain, on the other hand, is a farmer with a complex set of needs. He's stuck in one damn place with a million things to do. Just to harvest a simple dish of peas, he needs rain, loam, seeds, sun, storage, employees, rakes, hoes, rail yards, insurance, paid vacations, just to list a few.</p>
<p>The sin of his father falls on Cains head, not his happy hippy-dip brother. Cain, and all his damn requirements for living, gets zip. Cain doesn't take it well, even though God advises him to chill and just to back off a little. Instead, Cain kills Abel and crowns Agriculture and Industry the winner in the battle over Nomadism. <br><br>But, as I said, all that got written out for a single that never happened.</p>
<p><strong>To Conclude:</strong><br> <br>In 2011, I re-recorded the original version Build a Better Garden. Assisted by Tony Kinman and David Kendrick, Garden was tracked at its original intended speed of 145 bpm. It includes the unedited lyrics as first written. I have performed Garden at just about every show. I often get asked about the list of wars and treaties. So, I revived the original version for your listening pleasure.<br><br><br><br><a contents="&nbsp;To hear the song in question&nbsp;" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://andyprieboy.com/track/1088231">To hear the song in question </a></p>
<p>This version of Build a Better Garden is for sale only in the Music Store here at andyprieboy.com</p>
<p><br><strong>PLEASE NOTE:</strong><br><strong>Unfortunately Apple doesn't allow downloads directly through their iOS system, so files can't be downloaded directly on devices like iPhones or iPads. I'm sorry about that!<br><br>Happily, Apple <em>does</em> kindly <em>allow</em> you to purchase my work directly onto a computer and transfer it to your iPhone iPods. And for that we must be grateful.<br><br><br>Also:</strong><br>If you would prefer to purchase this song on iTunes a give them a chunk of your hard earned buck </p>
<p>go to http://itunes.apple.com/album/id1158130489?ls=1&app=itunes</p>
<p> </p>Andy Prieboy