Discography

In November of 2011 I finished a CD of original music titled What If. The songs span a long period of musical development for me, but most were writtten in the last decade. On the CD jacket I included a curt, wise-ass description of each tune, but with more space on the website, I wanted to eleborate more about each tune and include the lyrics. I played bass on all the tunes, and all the vocals on the recording are mine, but I owe a mountain of gratitude to Tom Tracy my engineer and co-producer for beating me over the head until the harmonies were absolutely correct. Also, a very special thanks to Laurie, my partner and supporter, who took the photos for CD cover. An amazing story about that shoot appears in the writing section of the website. (LINK).

JUST THE WINE TALKIN’

The story:
I played in a band once when every practice was preceeded by a bottle or two of wine. The wine seemed to summon the worst of our clever banter, and we’d always add the disclaimer: It’s just the Wine Talkin.’ I took the hook and off I went… The music was inspired roughly by the Django gypsy style. By the way, I was visiting Bert Jackson one day and he shared an amazing kick-ass jazz arrangement of JTWT that he’d done. I had to completely relearn my own tune―the ultimate compliment!

The players:
Bert Jackson: Lead guitar
Ben Kushigian: Rhythm guitar
Bruce Abbott: Soprano Sax
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
You caught my eye coming through that door
I watched you swaying across the floor
Haven’t we met somewhere before
It’s just the wine talkin…

A shame you’re sitting here all alone
I was thinking I could be your chaparone
And if I speak in a suggestive tone
It’s just the wine talkin’…

You could have told me no when I bought you that merlot
You smiled at me and got my knees a knocking
You did not run away when I poured that cabernet
But just like that, the wine started talkin’…

Maybe it’s just a coincidence
That suddenly gave me this eloquence
The only thing I offer in my defense
It’s just the wine talkin’…

Drinkin’ what was I thinkin’
I’m seekin’ more than we can do,
Maybe I could be your baby
And you’d be mine before the night is through.

More wine less time…

Hey did I say you were looking great
Nothing ‘bout you is second rate
So come on girl, don’t you hesitate
It’s just the wine talkin’…

Let’s set up a little rendezvous
I haven’t said nothing you could misconstrue
My vision is fuzzy hope yours is too
It’s just the wine talkin’…

You should have said pass when I poured that second glass
I should have known when I saw you walk in
My heart began to pound with each and every round
Then suddenly the wine started talkin’…

I know it might seem just a little strange
Guys like me can be such a pain
But have you ever thought about whips and chains
It’s just the wine talkin’…

More wine less time…

I should have hit the brakes when my head began to ache
The room started spinning and a rocking
I wish that I could find the words to make you mine
Or maybe i’ll just let the wine start talkin’…

The bar is closing, it’s getting late
Not really sure if I should wait
But just one last thing I’d like to say
It’s just the wine talkin’…

WHAT IF…

The story:
The words and music came to me in the shower at my home in Woodbury, CT. I actually had the presence of mind to write it down―wet hands and all―as it jumped out of my brain. After the shower I took my pups for a walk and finished the lyrics before I was done. This tune always reminded me a bit of “Swing on a Star,” although that connection came to me after the fact.

The players:
Bert Jackson: Lead and rhythm guitars
Bruce Abbott: Clarinet
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
What if worms had wings and flowers could sing
A lullaby to the bees,
What if trees could walk and clouds could talk,
What if, what if you and me…

What if papas were mamas and fish wore pajamas
When they slept every night in the sea,
What if snails had toeses and skunks smelled like roses,
What if, what if you and me…

What if black was white and day was night,
What if, what if, what if,
What if low was high, and water was dry,
What if, what if, what if…

What if early was late and seven was eight
And one and one made three,
What if ceilings were floors and windows were doors,
What if, what if you and me…

What if this was that and skinny was fat
And things weren’t quite as they seem,
So don’t stop to ask why let’s give it a try,
What if, what if you and me…

SWEET SOUND OF RAIN

The story:
One of the most wonderful adventures of my life was living with my wife, Judy, on a remote island for two and a half years. We worked as caretakers and helped to take care of the island farm among other duties. After one particularly dry spring, we suddenly had a week straight of rain―the ficklenss of New England weather. Judy started writing the lyrics to the song and had the germ of a melody. We then finished it together as our only joint musical effort.

The players:
Randy Patterson: Lead guitar
Me: Rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums
Rain: Recorded outside of Tom Tracy’s studio in the woods, May 2010.

The lyrics:
I woke up this morning to the sweet sound of rain.
It beat out a rhythm ‘cross my window pane.
This old farm can’t survive without any rain,

And I never thought I would get sick of blue skies
But God without rain, everything dies…

The cattle are dusty and covered with flies.
We haven’t seen rain since the fourth of July.
The wells are all low and the farm pond is dry,

And I never thought I would get sick of blue skies
But God without rain, everything dies…

Now there’s clouds on the horizon, thunder in the air,
The leaves on the trees rattle in the breeze
Blowing through our despair.

It’s been raining since Tuesday, ten days have gone by.
The mud in the pasture is as dark as the sky.
I’m soaked to the skin, got no shoes that are dry,

And I never thought I would get sick of gray skies
God, please stop the rain, before everything dies…

I woke up this morning to the sweet sound of rain…

DREAMIN’ OF YOU

The story:
The first song I wrote after coming to the Cape, the words came to me while tossing and turning in the early June morning sun.

The players:
Tim Dickey: Banjo
Me: Rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums

The Lyrics:
Sandy feet between the sheets
Makes it kinda hard to sleep
But I close my eyes ‘cuz I just wanna keep on
Dreamin’ of you…

Five a.m. awake again
Summer sun keeps creepin’ in
Just wanna go back where I been
I been dreamin’ of you…

I can still remember lyin’ in your arms
Feeling you beside me kept me safe and warm.

Music on the radio
Wakes me up soft and slow
But I don’t really wanna go
‘Cuz I’m dreamin’ of you…

Got so many things to do
But I’m not sad and feelin’ blue
Just don’t know if I’m through
Dreamin’ of you…

I can feel the pillow soft against my skin
I just want to close my eyes and have you back again.

Rub my eyes stretch and yawn
Turn my head and face the dawn
But I don’t know if I’m done
Dreamin’ of you…

JUST RIGHT FOR ME

The Story:
I have fallen for many different women in my life, but I wrote this song for Judy, who after all seemed to be just right for me. I finished the song just before we went to a friend’s wedding in Maine, and played it at the reception. It was the first song I ever performed in public with just the bass as accompaniment.

The players:
Fred Boyle: Piano
Me: Rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
I like short girls, tall girls and all in between,
I like big girls and small girls you know what I mean’
But they don’t fit me to a tee
‘Cuz you’re just right for me

I like blue eyes, brown eyes and some red eyes I’ve seen,
But my favorite eyes are your color green,
The look in your eye swept me off my feet
‘Cuz you’re just right for me

I knew right away when you came along,
I knew that my days of lonely were gone,
Something inside knew instantly
That you just had to be the right one for me

I like big-boned girls, I like ‘em skinny as a rail,
I like ‘em strong as an ox, I like ‘em fancy and frail,
Ask me again I’ll tell you confidently
That you’re just right for me.

I like girls that smile, I like girls that pout,
I like girls that know what I’m singin’ about,
But you know that I know you know what I need
‘Cuz you’re just right for me

I like blonds, brunettes and red heads too,
I even like brown-haired girls with big bee-hive hairdoos’
But when we turn gray, by your side I’ll be
‘Cuz you’re just right for me,
Baby, you’re just right for me,
I don’t mean maybe, you’re just right for me,
You drive me crazy, you’re just right for me!

A.D.D.

The Story:
After coming to the Cape, I was officially diagnosed with A.D.D… Who knew??? I’d been aware of the condition for a long time, but had never considered that it had anything to do with me―DUH!!! Anyway, it started giving me a much clearer view of myself, the good―my creative drive and my ability to hyper-concentrate―as well as the bad―the list is too long. The events in the song are ficticious, but a typical snapshot of my daily life nonetheless.

The players:
Bert Jackson: Lead and rhythm guitars
Bruce Abbott: Flute
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
Woke up in the mornin’ gettin’ ready for my day,
I needed some coffee to help me stay awake.
Fillin’ the coffe pot with water to the top,
But before I’m through I see the dishes and I stop…

A.D.D. does not bother me, I follow after every shiny object I see
Takin’ little white pills they’re gonna set me free
It all boils down to distractibility…

I set the pot down to put the dishes away,
I walk over to the shelf with a big stack of plates,
I lift up that stack and I think I got it made,
When I look down and see a pile of bills to be paid

So I put the plates down I go looking for my checks,
But if I’m gonna pay bills, I’m gonna need my specs.
Now where could I have left them, I say with a frown,
So I forget about the checkbook and began to look around.

A.D.D. does not bother me…

I go into the bedroom I think I left them in there,
When I find a big pile of dirty underwear,
I pick ‘em and head to the washing machine,
But when I lift up the lid there’s a load already clean.

So I open up the dryer, but there’s a load in there too,
I take them to be folded, but it’s too good to be true,
‘Cuz the dog needs to go out so I think I’ll do that first,
I open up the door but things are startin’ to get worse.

A.D.D. does not bother me…

Standing at the door I see the paper on the lawn,
I figure I’ll do some reading so I put my flip flops on,
Walkin’ through the grass that needs to be mowed,
So I go and get the mower from the place I keep it stowed.

But the tank is bone dry, the can is empty too.
I’ll go down to the station to see what I can do.
I go and get my keys, but waitin’ at the door,
The dog is getting nervous even hungrier than before.

A.D.D. does not bother me…

I’m tellin’ you baby, it may sound crazy, it’s enough to make a grown man sob
It ain’t no fun tryin’ to get things done when A.D.D. is your full-time job…

I go inside to feed her, I go looking for some meat,
But the fridge just makes me hungry man, I could use something to eat.
So I get me out some bacon, some o.j. and some eggs,
I get me out the frying pan but the dog begins to beg.

So I find the bag of kibble, but now I need a bowl,
You know, cereal sounds pretty good or maybe some casserole,
But I’m feeling mighty sleepy so think I’ll go to bed
But wait, I know, I’ll make me some coffee instead!!!

A.D.D. does not bother me, I follow after every shiny object I see
Takin’ little white pills they’re gonna set me free
It all boils down to distractibility…
I could use a little measure of respectability…
‘Cuz getting’ anything done is just an impossibility…

A.D.D., adilee, dee-bop, deedillee dee…
A.D.D. does not bother me!!!

YESTERDAY’S YARD SALE

The Story:
When Judy passed away, I pretty much packed up everything and brought it with me. I filled the first floor of my yellow barn with boxes of stuff and things we’d accumulated over the years (we were both pack rats!). It took several sessions with the help of a friend, but I weeded things out and had a giant yard sale. The next morning the only things left were the balloons hanging from the tree. In my mind I heard Judy singing the Paul Simon line: Sad as a lonely wrinkled balloon. The rest just came pouring out of me… Special thanks to Randy who came up with that wonderful mandolin line.

The players:
Randy Patterson: Lead guitar, dueling mandolins and one lonesome harp
Me: Rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
Wrinkled balloons of blue and green
Hang from the maple on a piece of string,
Poster sign bends down with dew,
Tugs heavy like thoughts of you.

Yesterday’s yard sale the people came and went,
Memories for a dollar, would ya take fifty cents,
Little things you held and loved on a table for a dime,
I kept them all to help recall your loving over time…

Opened every cardboard box I’d packed so long ago
Unwrapped everything inside so carefully and slow,
Sorted through a life that felt so comfortable before
Newspapers from the year you left lay crumpled on the floor.

Here’s a pile for goodwill, the yard sale stuff goes here,
But next to me are things of yours I’ll save for another year.

Found a box of pots and pans, I’ll keep only just a few,
I close my eyes and still can taste the magic that we knew,
A candle in a stoneware cup blackened wick awaiting there,
I always loved the way the light flickered in your golden hair.

Sea glass from our favorite beach, a shell from a robin’s egg,
A heart-shaped rock worn smooth with years―who’d want that anyway,
I unwrapped your old coffee mug, the glaze was dull and chipped,
I held it tight and kissed the place that used to touch your lips…

And I still remember the life and love I thought would last forever.

I went around and gathered up the stuff that no one bought,
I put it all in the back seat, drove it down to the thrifty shop.
The lady in there took my things, she smiled at me and said,
“Thank you for this box of love and the kindness it will spread.”

COMPANION

The story:
An early song written before I met Judy, it was inspired and co-written by my old Irish setter, Kelly, who hung with me during those thin years. A nod to my friend, Maryrita, who gave Kelly the line: “I’ve seen him depressed and I’ve seen him undressed.” (Kelly had trouble making words rhyme―She didn’t have thumbs!) One of the only tunes I’ve ever written in 3/4 (or 6/8) time, This song took first place in the 2010 Eventide Songwriters Competition: Novelty song category.

The players:
Tim Dickey: Dobro
Me: Rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums and post script comment

The lyrics:
I’ve lived with my dog too long, I know all her favorite songs,
But you can’t really talk to her, she can’t really sing,
She eats like a pig and she ain’t half as clean.
But my doggie has always been true, she’s the best dog that I ever knew,
It’s just that I need a real life, authentic, and honest to goodness companion like you.

I’ve lived with this human too long, my dog friends all tell me it’s wrong
‘Cuz I’ve seen him depressed and I’ve seen undressed
But my feelings for him are still strong…
Sometimes he drinks too much booze, and he doesn’t remember my food,
It’s just that he needs a real life, authentic and honest to goodness companion like you,
Yes, I need a real life, authentic and honest to goodness companion like you.

Now we’ve lived together too long, and lately it ain’t been much fun,
‘Cuz we’ve seen many places and seen many faces and traces of bein’ alone,
But our regrets have been only a few, and I know that we could make it through…
With a genuine a real life, authentic and honest to goodness companion like you,
Yes, I need a real life, authentic and honest to goodness companion like you,
Hey, we need a real life, authentic and honest to goodness companion like you.

WHEN YOU’RE HERE

The story:
This is my oldest song that I still perform. It was written during my first stint as an island caretaker in the late 1970’s. I had a lot of fun and took a lot of liberties with the lyrics. Who knew that “jelly” could be used as an adjective―and in the comparitive!!! It makes a great sing-along and a fun jam tune in sort of a bluegrass tradition.

The players:
Greg Johnson: Fiddle
Tim Dickey: Dobro
Randy Patterson: Mandolin and rhythm guitar
Lucas Provost: Drums

The lyrics:
Well my soup is always hotter and my beer is always colder,
And my sandwiches are just right when you’re here.
The grass is always greener and the kitchen’s always cleaner,
And the dog is never mean when you are here

When you’re here, when you’re here,
Everything is better when you’re here.
When you’re here, when you’re here,
I like it so much better when you’re here.

Well the dog don’t bark and the cats don’t fight and I don’t hear noises in the night,
And the sun shines so much brighter when you’re here.
My peanut butter is nuttier and my jelly’s always jellier,
And the garbage ain’t as smelly when you’re here.

When you’re here, when you’re here…

Well the weeds are always shorter and the corn is always taller,
And I don’t talk to the walls when you are here.
This place never gets lonely, girl, ‘cuz you’re my one and only girl,
I like it so much better when you’re here.

When you’re here, when you’re here,
Everything is better when you’re here.
When you’re here, when you’re here,
I like it so much better, girl, the waters always wetter, girl,
I like it so much better when you’re here!