Sunday, January 19, 2014

Shattered




I weave my fingers though
Each strand hair
In open awe,
The touch of it lingering
Like feathers,
And seeps deep in me
Some brew of tea
I can’t relieve
this touch drawing
stiffening in me
until like an old piece
of crockery dropped
I shatter into a million
Pieces all of them me
Each piece scrambling
To put myself back
Together, always waiting
For the next chance
To weave my fingers
In those strands
And do it all again


Imaginary flower




My fingers weave
through the pedals
I can only imagine
In this remote season of chill
The warmth of imaginary dew
Dripping from finger tip
To my lips and into my mouth
A taste so sweet
Honey can’t compete,
The feel so real
I burn inside
Melting the worst ice
This winter casts
These pedals never wilting
Always moist
Always fragrant
Filling me up

Until I burst

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Frank Q sessions Part 4 (last)

This part has two songs with me and Frank, with me singing and playing guitar.


Frank Q sessions part 3

I didn't sing lead to songs much back in those days, but like with Ringo, they let me sing some. This group includes one. There are a few more later that night



Frank Q sessions Part 2

These are more tracks from the session at Frank Q's house


Musical sessions at Frank Q's House (1973) Part I (links repaired)

This is pretty typical of a recording session we did over the years. This one was recorded on reel to reel then to a cassette. these are often incomplete songs with tons of banter that got worse the more we smoked. I cut most of the banter, but left enough to get the flavor. These and some I'll post later were done in Frank Q's parents living room in 1973

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Fog again?



Fog, fog everywhere
And fog to think,
This soup tow which I close my eyes
And wake, shaking to the thunder
Of a highway I cannot see,
Drifting in to sift
Through fits of thought
In this wake-sleep
I think of as life
The albatross of self-awareness
Hung around my neck
Like a life preserve
But is but a millstone
Sinking me deeper
Into this fog,
And the more I struggle
The deeper I sink
Into this dream
Where rational thought
Ceases in the fog.


Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Purrs in the fog



Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The fog curls around my neighbor’s lamp posts
 like a cat aching to get its back scratched,
but it is the world that purrs not the fog,
the traffic on the highway forced to slow
its pace and grumbling over its disability,
we all lost in this thing we cannot peer through
or get around or over or above or below,
stuck inside this heavy air until some other
entity beyond strips away its layers
and sets us free, so we, see nothing
until sunlight comes, and sometimes
here in the midst of mists I’m not so certain
I want yet to be set free
Scratching my back against lamp post
Purring with life that has been forced
To slow down, needing no speed bump

To give me reprieve

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Frank's Cabaret set

This is a set I recorded of my best friend Frank during his cabaret days. He is the reason I mourn the loss of any artist. We teased him about his show tunes stuff, but as you will see his voice was huge. 


Friday, January 10, 2014

Songs from around 1980

These were on a tape together but may have been recorded at different times. This is a rough version of Dancer, while Woman of a Different Breed and Love of Mine are from earlier in the late 1970s


Late 1999s music recordings (some covers)

Not sure exactly when this was recorded, but it has to be after 1995 since Formerly Joes is about remember Frank Q after his death. 


Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Electric sessions: 1982 Passaic with Hank

These recordings were made over several days in 1982, some with Hank, some without, but all with a significant amount of drugs



Old Passaic apartment sessions: 1983

This is an odd collection of songs -- some using a tiny casio. Freezing mile has a terrible sour chord in it, and Man of the Hour was supposed to be our hit single. Several of these were written in the 1970s such as Easter

I never thought I could be your man

This is a song I wrote in the late 1990s or early 2000s, don't know when the recording was made. But it reflects a new way of playing chords with more movement in them.



I never thought I could be your man (music link)

I know you

This was written in the mid-1990s but I don't know when the recording was made

I know you (musical link)

Monday, January 6, 2014

Ghetto Passaic Sessions: 1985

These were edgier material and we jammed a lot. You might say these are how I become John Lennon for a day sessions


Passaic sessions: 1975

These are four of about a dozen songs we recorded in the uptown Passaic apartment in 1975. We're still looking for The Cave Man song and Tommy and his Buggy. These sessions got me tossed out of that place because we made so much noise




Al needs a cigarette

This is from a session in the early 1980s, a pink floyd like song about what it means to crave a cigarette when stoned.


Al needs a cigarette (music link)

Sunset eyes (the jam)

This is the last song from the 1976 Montclair session and it is a pretty straight jam



Sunset eyes (Music Link)

Cold, Cold eyes

Yet another song from the 1976 Montclair jam



Cold,Cold eyes (music link)

It's Raining

This version I still like even if it is very flawed from 1976 Montclair jam



It's Raining (music link)

Every Day and Night

This is another song from the 1976 session in Montclair.


Every Day and Night (Music Link)

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Please tell me quick when you say good bye

This comes from the same session. I think I tracked the vocals, trying to show Hank the sound I wanted. I was looking for a combination Dylan and Everly Brothers -- recorded 1976



Please tell me quick when you say good bye (music link)

I want to know

This is a very early version of this song -- I think I was showing Hank the song. He may be on the harp. I think Garrick is on base. I was still trying to figure it out. Recorded in Montclair rooming house 1976

I want to know (music link)

Osgosh (sorry, Frank Zappa)

This is a recording from the summer of 1973 done on a cheap tape recorder with a condenser microphone. I don't know what we were on at the time, but I wish we still had some. Clearly influenced by Frank Zappa

Osgosh (link fixed) (Music link)

I have a little Froggie

This is a musical poem that Pauly and I made Hank recite while we played the music. 

I have a little froggie (music link)


I have a little Froggie
He loves to sniff the glue
He follow me to school one day
I don't know why he do



Saturday, January 4, 2014

This bitter bit




The icicle
Drips on my lips
And I lick
The cold and bitter
Taste winter brings
A flavor of reality
I dread yet cannot
Get enough of
As if knowing
In my genes
That after this
Frigid bit
I will once again
Get to lick
Spring’s rich
honey,
the warmth of it
warming my bones
even as I sip
this bitter brew
like cold tea
waiting for the sun
to warm and sweeten it
this bitter bit

part of all that is.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Drip of time





This moment
This drip of time
I count drop by drop
Some like honey
Lingering sweet
At the tip of my tongue
Others like bitter fruit
I can’t wait to drip
But lasts just as long
Until both expire
And feed my desire
For what once was,
This drip, drip, drip
From a faucet
I fear to shut completely
Not knowing
What comes after

The dripping has stopped.