Oh my...
Click the picture to read the Westword article!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The PKO Idea Is Catching On... We're holding a seat for you!
Westword covered the People's Kazoo Orchestra idea!
Oh my...
Click the picture to read the Westword article!
Oh my...
Click the picture to read the Westword article!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
HJTWYASP Update: Let's Give It A Name
HJTWYASP (Hire-John-To-Write-You-A-Song-Program) Update:
A fan/friend, Julie, asked me to write a song about her life-long friend Tom. Here is some of what she wrote me:
...
John, Certainly Not Common, Common- Lucky me to have received your email today. I’ve been tirelessly searching for a one-of-a-kind gift for my swell friend, Tom. I out did my self last year in celebrating his birthday with a Mark Ryden General Sherman print.(Check out surreal pop at its best: http://buckheadcustomframes.typepad.com/bhcf/2007/05/mark_rydens_gen.html) I’ve searched high and low for something comparable. I even lied to him yesterday, saying I had a gift, but have yet to mail it. I am habitually tardy, but I seldom lie. Really, I promise you on both the tardy part and the lying part. Anyway the point being is, I finally stumbled upon his gift or you stumbled upon me. However, you would like to look at it, you are hired. I trust you, your emails make me smile. So a bit on Tom, Thomas, and a very small bit on me: We have been friends since, well, since a while ago. I think we met when we were 15. You can do the math or just make it up. Make him, us, feel young. He, I must say is one of my dearest friends (that is the wee bit on me) and I dare say coolest. Yes, by far the coolest. Anyway he is down with music, in fact he had a radio show on WMPG while he was living in Portland Maine. It should give you a good idea on his style. Farm fresh, I would say. He is studying for his Master’s in Creative Writing at Minnesota State University in Mankato. He is clever, wry and witty- a personality trifecta. He also loves baseball. In truth, and you know I am big on the truth, he is writing a book about his great, great uncle who pitched for the St. Paul Saints from 1921-23, and still holds the league record for most wins in a season (31 in 1923). He is married to a lovely gal, Cathy and the have a dog named Mabel. Oh and this might be something of interest, while living in Denver he worked as a bartender at Splinter’s from the Pine and the Cherry Cricket for quite sometime. I believe he was known as the Mayor of Denver far before there was a Hickenlooper. Well, I could continue on, but seeing as I am at work, I should probably put the brakes on for now.
Is that enough to get started? Let me know what you else you might need. I would like the song to be reflective of art, music, creativity, baseball spontaneity, youth and, of course, friendship. That being said you will probably need more information. Feel free to email or call me. I never answer my phones, so email is probably best. Or, hell if it would help I would be more than happy to buy you a beer or ten to discuss Tom’s Song. Annie had hers, I suppose it is Tom’s turn in 2008. Oh, I almost forgot it needs to be funny. Again, I trust you, I laugh every time I read your emails. I am very excited to see what happens. I love the idea. Simply perfect.
...
So I decided to key in on the friendship part... 'Cause, there's only so much you can pack into one song... Or, there's only so much I can pack into a song. And besides... it's a mysterious process... what makes a lyric or a chord "feel right" etc.
Anyway, I sent Julie an email to get some more info about her friendship with Tom. Here's what I wrote her:
julie,
could you tell me about the time when you knew he was your very good friend... and not just another acquaintance... or not just another love interest. but a real friend.
and tell me the top three things that you two really connect on.
and tell me the top three things that really piss you off about him.
and tell me the top three things that really piss him off about you.
i dunno... this info might be useful.
~john
...
Here's what she wrote back:
Hey John~
I think I first realized that we were goods and our friendship was that of longevity was in high school. I remember a particular occasion that seems defining. Tom and I, along with a group of friends, went on a hayride I believe for our friend’s birthday. Afterwards we all sat around the campfire. Tom and I talked non stop about how much we loved the TV show Batman (POW!). It was funny and I loved that we could embrace our inner dork-ness. I believe he even had a Batman action figure. Don’t know if we tossed him in the fire, but I imagine we did. SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! Also one night not sure if it was the summer before college or the first summer after our freshman year, anyway we were hanging out with the group and I drove him home and he asked me to come in so he could read me something from his favorite short story. I wish I could remember what the story was, but I thought it was incredibly cool that he didn’t want to show me his fish tank. I also liked his handwriting, I am a sucker for well crafted penmanship. And of course the real reason I knew we would be friends, he could buy beer, slo gin and peppermint schnapps. I think the guy at the liquor store called him and his friend the bow-tie brothers. They showed up wearing bow ties in order to appear older. I am not entirely sure that is a true story, but that is how I am remembering it. He also got me high for the first time and I threw up in El Chapultepec. Under age and high, makes for a great and lasting friendship.
Three things we really connect on:
Music
Art/Design/Writing/Film
Drinking
Three things that piss me off about him:
1. He smokes. At least he did. I saw him last summer for a quick moment and I don’t remember if he was smoking. Either way it bugs/bugged the shit out of me.
2. He lives in Minnesota.
3. He is smarter, more creative and funnier than I am.
Things about me that piss him off:
My teeth are whiter
I look good in pink.
I can burp part of the lyrics to Steely Dan’s Deacon Blue, specifically: They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose. They call Alabama the crimson tide. Call me deacon blues. Urp!
4. The last one might just be jealousy, so here is a fourth: I don’t vote.
Hope that helps... This is fun, thanks in advance!
~Julie
...
So I wrote this song. You can hear it below... Just hit the play button.
Let's Give It A Name
You used to dress up in a bow tie
Buying beer and getting high
Runnin' 'round like we would never die
Without a care
I made a scene. I was totally wrecked
That night in El Chapultepec.
You put your arm around my neck
And got me out of there.
We met a long time ago
And time's moving fast…
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If my house was on fire you'd run right in
And pull me out of the flames
Oh, let's give it a name…
You're back in school 'cause you want to write
They say Mankato is a pretty sight
But I know Blue Earth is mostly white
In the winter
I'm still in Denver doing my own thing
Looking for work, waiting for spring
You got married but I'm better with flings
I'm a renter
We met a long time ago
But time moves fast, don't ya know?
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If my house was on fire you'd run right in
Sure I could make it through this world without you
But I'm pretty glad that I don't have to
We met a long time ago
And time's moving fast…
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If your house was on fire I'd run right in
When we're old
When we're old
When I screw up you step in
And you love me just the same
Oh, let's give it a name…
A fan/friend, Julie, asked me to write a song about her life-long friend Tom. Here is some of what she wrote me:
...
John, Certainly Not Common, Common- Lucky me to have received your email today. I’ve been tirelessly searching for a one-of-a-kind gift for my swell friend, Tom. I out did my self last year in celebrating his birthday with a Mark Ryden General Sherman print.(Check out surreal pop at its best: http://buckheadcustomframes.typepad.com/bhcf/2007/05/mark_rydens_gen.html) I’ve searched high and low for something comparable. I even lied to him yesterday, saying I had a gift, but have yet to mail it. I am habitually tardy, but I seldom lie. Really, I promise you on both the tardy part and the lying part. Anyway the point being is, I finally stumbled upon his gift or you stumbled upon me. However, you would like to look at it, you are hired. I trust you, your emails make me smile. So a bit on Tom, Thomas, and a very small bit on me: We have been friends since, well, since a while ago. I think we met when we were 15. You can do the math or just make it up. Make him, us, feel young. He, I must say is one of my dearest friends (that is the wee bit on me) and I dare say coolest. Yes, by far the coolest. Anyway he is down with music, in fact he had a radio show on WMPG while he was living in Portland Maine. It should give you a good idea on his style. Farm fresh, I would say. He is studying for his Master’s in Creative Writing at Minnesota State University in Mankato. He is clever, wry and witty- a personality trifecta. He also loves baseball. In truth, and you know I am big on the truth, he is writing a book about his great, great uncle who pitched for the St. Paul Saints from 1921-23, and still holds the league record for most wins in a season (31 in 1923). He is married to a lovely gal, Cathy and the have a dog named Mabel. Oh and this might be something of interest, while living in Denver he worked as a bartender at Splinter’s from the Pine and the Cherry Cricket for quite sometime. I believe he was known as the Mayor of Denver far before there was a Hickenlooper. Well, I could continue on, but seeing as I am at work, I should probably put the brakes on for now.
Is that enough to get started? Let me know what you else you might need. I would like the song to be reflective of art, music, creativity, baseball spontaneity, youth and, of course, friendship. That being said you will probably need more information. Feel free to email or call me. I never answer my phones, so email is probably best. Or, hell if it would help I would be more than happy to buy you a beer or ten to discuss Tom’s Song. Annie had hers, I suppose it is Tom’s turn in 2008. Oh, I almost forgot it needs to be funny. Again, I trust you, I laugh every time I read your emails. I am very excited to see what happens. I love the idea. Simply perfect.
...
So I decided to key in on the friendship part... 'Cause, there's only so much you can pack into one song... Or, there's only so much I can pack into a song. And besides... it's a mysterious process... what makes a lyric or a chord "feel right" etc.
Anyway, I sent Julie an email to get some more info about her friendship with Tom. Here's what I wrote her:
julie,
could you tell me about the time when you knew he was your very good friend... and not just another acquaintance... or not just another love interest. but a real friend.
and tell me the top three things that you two really connect on.
and tell me the top three things that really piss you off about him.
and tell me the top three things that really piss him off about you.
i dunno... this info might be useful.
~john
...
Here's what she wrote back:
Hey John~
I think I first realized that we were goods and our friendship was that of longevity was in high school. I remember a particular occasion that seems defining. Tom and I, along with a group of friends, went on a hayride I believe for our friend’s birthday. Afterwards we all sat around the campfire. Tom and I talked non stop about how much we loved the TV show Batman (POW!). It was funny and I loved that we could embrace our inner dork-ness. I believe he even had a Batman action figure. Don’t know if we tossed him in the fire, but I imagine we did. SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! Also one night not sure if it was the summer before college or the first summer after our freshman year, anyway we were hanging out with the group and I drove him home and he asked me to come in so he could read me something from his favorite short story. I wish I could remember what the story was, but I thought it was incredibly cool that he didn’t want to show me his fish tank. I also liked his handwriting, I am a sucker for well crafted penmanship. And of course the real reason I knew we would be friends, he could buy beer, slo gin and peppermint schnapps. I think the guy at the liquor store called him and his friend the bow-tie brothers. They showed up wearing bow ties in order to appear older. I am not entirely sure that is a true story, but that is how I am remembering it. He also got me high for the first time and I threw up in El Chapultepec. Under age and high, makes for a great and lasting friendship.
Three things we really connect on:
Music
Art/Design/Writing/Film
Drinking
Three things that piss me off about him:
1. He smokes. At least he did. I saw him last summer for a quick moment and I don’t remember if he was smoking. Either way it bugs/bugged the shit out of me.
2. He lives in Minnesota.
3. He is smarter, more creative and funnier than I am.
Things about me that piss him off:
My teeth are whiter
I look good in pink.
I can burp part of the lyrics to Steely Dan’s Deacon Blue, specifically: They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose. They call Alabama the crimson tide. Call me deacon blues. Urp!
4. The last one might just be jealousy, so here is a fourth: I don’t vote.
Hope that helps... This is fun, thanks in advance!
~Julie
...
So I wrote this song. You can hear it below... Just hit the play button.
Let's Give It A Name
You used to dress up in a bow tie
Buying beer and getting high
Runnin' 'round like we would never die
Without a care
I made a scene. I was totally wrecked
That night in El Chapultepec.
You put your arm around my neck
And got me out of there.
We met a long time ago
And time's moving fast…
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If my house was on fire you'd run right in
And pull me out of the flames
Oh, let's give it a name…
You're back in school 'cause you want to write
They say Mankato is a pretty sight
But I know Blue Earth is mostly white
In the winter
I'm still in Denver doing my own thing
Looking for work, waiting for spring
You got married but I'm better with flings
I'm a renter
We met a long time ago
But time moves fast, don't ya know?
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If my house was on fire you'd run right in
Sure I could make it through this world without you
But I'm pretty glad that I don't have to
We met a long time ago
And time's moving fast…
When we're old we'll still be friends.
That's the kind of thing this is
If your house was on fire I'd run right in
When we're old
When we're old
When I screw up you step in
And you love me just the same
Oh, let's give it a name…
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The After School Special Chord
I was working on a song last night, trying to match the music to some lyrics, when I bumped into the fabled AFTER SCHOOL SPECIAL CHORD.
You know it when you hear it. We've all been trained by television to have a Pavlovian response to this sound.
It's the After School Special Chord...
The chord that they play immediately after bad news befalls one of our beloved main characters... It emphatically makes the point that ill winds are blowing, trouble is afoot and something wicked this way comes.
It is also an "acting law" that when the After School Special Chord sounds, our hero gets a faraway look and stares at the craft services table, behind camera three.
Here is my performance of the After School Special Chord, for you:
You know it when you hear it. We've all been trained by television to have a Pavlovian response to this sound.
It's the After School Special Chord...
The chord that they play immediately after bad news befalls one of our beloved main characters... It emphatically makes the point that ill winds are blowing, trouble is afoot and something wicked this way comes.
It is also an "acting law" that when the After School Special Chord sounds, our hero gets a faraway look and stares at the craft services table, behind camera three.
Here is my performance of the After School Special Chord, for you:
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
New song: Go to Hell (with me)
Another feel good summer dance hit from yours truly.
...
go to hell (with me)
oh the moon is a runaway girl
who sleeps on the streets
I've been whispering secrets
into the soles of her feet
your lamp's been asking questions
but I'm never gonna tell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
go to hell… go to hell with me
they're reserving a table… I guarantee
I know people love to suffer
it makes them want to stay
your heart is made of silver
melt it down and hide it away
I'd even steal your shadow
when there's nothing left to sell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
most people are born as beautiful blank slates
but on the day I was torn from my mom, it was already too late
you never should have loved me
what was going through your head?
now we're twisted like a cable
and holding on by a thread
if god is a magician
we could use another spell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
go to hell… go to hell with me
they're reserving a table… I guarantee
go to hell… go to hell with me
go to hell… it's lovely
...
go to hell (with me)
oh the moon is a runaway girl
who sleeps on the streets
I've been whispering secrets
into the soles of her feet
your lamp's been asking questions
but I'm never gonna tell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
go to hell… go to hell with me
they're reserving a table… I guarantee
I know people love to suffer
it makes them want to stay
your heart is made of silver
melt it down and hide it away
I'd even steal your shadow
when there's nothing left to sell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
most people are born as beautiful blank slates
but on the day I was torn from my mom, it was already too late
you never should have loved me
what was going through your head?
now we're twisted like a cable
and holding on by a thread
if god is a magician
we could use another spell
girl, you love a criminal who wants to go to hell
go to hell… go to hell with me
they're reserving a table… I guarantee
go to hell… go to hell with me
go to hell… it's lovely
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Jay Farrar is a jerk. (In my dream.)
I've been having strange, gig/performance-related dreams lately.
Two mornings ago I dreamt that I was playing a show, opening for Jay Farrar (Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt). He was being an incredibly arrogant jerk... interrupting my opening set -- literally walking on stage in the middle of a song -- and saying, "Hey I wanna play a song right now. On your guitar." So I stopped and handed him my guitar... And as I did he said something like, "What's it like to see that I have more draw than you do in your own town?" Totally floored me. I thought for a second, grabbed my guitar back from him and said something like, "Give me my fucking guitar back you dumb prick."
Yikes. Not a lovely moment for either of us, really.
Mister Farrar, wherever you are... please accept my apology. You can interrupt my set any time and play a song on my guitar. I'd be honored.
Two mornings ago I dreamt that I was playing a show, opening for Jay Farrar (Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt). He was being an incredibly arrogant jerk... interrupting my opening set -- literally walking on stage in the middle of a song -- and saying, "Hey I wanna play a song right now. On your guitar." So I stopped and handed him my guitar... And as I did he said something like, "What's it like to see that I have more draw than you do in your own town?" Totally floored me. I thought for a second, grabbed my guitar back from him and said something like, "Give me my fucking guitar back you dumb prick."
Yikes. Not a lovely moment for either of us, really.
Mister Farrar, wherever you are... please accept my apology. You can interrupt my set any time and play a song on my guitar. I'd be honored.
Where the HELL is the stage? (In my dream.)
May 16, 2008
I took Tylenol PM last night because I hurt my leg doing something stupid. (Bounding up the stairs, my foot got caught on a stair and I came crashing down. Graceful, no?)
Anyway, Tylenol PM destroys me for some reason…
I dreamt that I was doing a standup comedy routine in a large theater – like the Fillmore, only about double or triple that size – that was packed with people. People were having a good time and laughing at what I was saying, but I was just sort of reacting to my ridiculous situation. Nothing was working for me about the performance, but I just kept rolling with it, sharing my thoughts as they came to me.
I’ve had these kinds of “performing for a crowd dreams” before. They almost always share these themes:
1) The crowd is relaxed and having a great time. The venue is totally packed. Kind of the perfect crowd/gig.
2) During the course of the dream, I get more and more stressed at the situation I’m in – there are always barriers being put between me and the audience. In this dream, the stage was filled with so many boxes that I couldn’t see over them to the audience and they couldn’t see me. Then I would move to try and find a better location and a curtain would be in the way... or light rigging... or a door would be locked. No matter where I looked or what I tried, I couldn’t get a clean and clear line of site to the audience.
3) There are always bored, semi-rude stagehand types (think stereotypical east coast union guys - sorry for the stereotype) directing / misdirecting me around the back of the theater. “Yeh, go down that hall, turn left, then go through your 3rd door, then turn right, then up the stairs, around the corner and through that gray door to the stage.”
4) The net effect of the above means that I end up performing for the audience with only my voice, since they can’t see me.
5) During this frustrating process of me moving around the theater/performing space, trying to maneuver into a spot to actually do my thing, I start getting more and more stressed because I can feel that I’m losing the crowd.
I woke from this morning’s dream as I was (finally) standing on a small stretch of stage, but the microphone stand was ridiculously complicated, hard-wired and set up in such a way that the microphone was literally 14 feet off the ground above my head. So there I was trying to do my show while I was pulling down the mic stand, disassembling this claptrap microphone contraption, literally taking it a part. I just ended up using my frustration as part of my routine.
Then I woke up.
...
Yes... I think I know what this dream is about. (Frustration with the life of being an independent artist... Awww, poor baby. I know.)
No need to comment on its obviousness. Unless you feel an overwhelming urge. It's just a recurring dream.
I took Tylenol PM last night because I hurt my leg doing something stupid. (Bounding up the stairs, my foot got caught on a stair and I came crashing down. Graceful, no?)
Anyway, Tylenol PM destroys me for some reason…
I dreamt that I was doing a standup comedy routine in a large theater – like the Fillmore, only about double or triple that size – that was packed with people. People were having a good time and laughing at what I was saying, but I was just sort of reacting to my ridiculous situation. Nothing was working for me about the performance, but I just kept rolling with it, sharing my thoughts as they came to me.
I’ve had these kinds of “performing for a crowd dreams” before. They almost always share these themes:
1) The crowd is relaxed and having a great time. The venue is totally packed. Kind of the perfect crowd/gig.
2) During the course of the dream, I get more and more stressed at the situation I’m in – there are always barriers being put between me and the audience. In this dream, the stage was filled with so many boxes that I couldn’t see over them to the audience and they couldn’t see me. Then I would move to try and find a better location and a curtain would be in the way... or light rigging... or a door would be locked. No matter where I looked or what I tried, I couldn’t get a clean and clear line of site to the audience.
3) There are always bored, semi-rude stagehand types (think stereotypical east coast union guys - sorry for the stereotype) directing / misdirecting me around the back of the theater. “Yeh, go down that hall, turn left, then go through your 3rd door, then turn right, then up the stairs, around the corner and through that gray door to the stage.”
4) The net effect of the above means that I end up performing for the audience with only my voice, since they can’t see me.
5) During this frustrating process of me moving around the theater/performing space, trying to maneuver into a spot to actually do my thing, I start getting more and more stressed because I can feel that I’m losing the crowd.
I woke from this morning’s dream as I was (finally) standing on a small stretch of stage, but the microphone stand was ridiculously complicated, hard-wired and set up in such a way that the microphone was literally 14 feet off the ground above my head. So there I was trying to do my show while I was pulling down the mic stand, disassembling this claptrap microphone contraption, literally taking it a part. I just ended up using my frustration as part of my routine.
Then I woke up.
...
Yes... I think I know what this dream is about. (Frustration with the life of being an independent artist... Awww, poor baby. I know.)
No need to comment on its obviousness. Unless you feel an overwhelming urge. It's just a recurring dream.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Why Birds Fly - Lyrics and album notes
JOHN COMMON
WHY BIRDS FLY
Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.
All songs by John Common (BMI)
Produced by John Common
Engineered by Scott Davies, Jeremy Lawton, John Common
Recorded at Emmasaurus Sound
Mixed and mastered by Jeremy Lawton
Art direction and design by John Common
Call
John Common – guitar, rhodes
Already There
John Common – guitar, vocals
Jeremy Lawton – conjunculator
way back, before I can remember
everything was shut down on me
I was living like a goldfish
swimming in my circle
waiting for a hand to pick me out
save me for later
when I'm less sedated
good god help me good
I'm already there
I was so lonely, living like a shut in
watching all my windows shut down
I got the silent treatment
then I started screaming
oh god come dig me out
save me for later
when I'm less sedated
oh good god help me good
I'm already there
the window is cold on my cheek
I'm getting old, don't you think
god help me good
I'm already there
mary interceding on my behalf
I need you now
it's early morning
the birds in the trees
are singing
Do You Hate
John Comon – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Steve Millin – bass
Jeremy Lawton – backing vocals
do you hate your name
do you hate your face
do you hide your hands
do they give you away
does it make you sick
do you want to die
when you hear that voice
do you go inside
do you see your dad
and the things he did
when you lie awake
in an empty bed
do you close the door
and then cry all night
do you get pissed off
when you hear the truth
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies we fight
just gave up and went home
have you had enough
are you checking out
is it time to burn
this old wooden house
is it easier
is it better for you
when you disappear
step out of view
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies you fight
just gave up and went home
Moonlight
John Common – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums
Steve Millin – bass
Jeremy Lawton – conjunculator
Chris Eagleton - samples
Adam Lancaster - guitar
you hear it on the radio
late at night when you sleep
dreaming of your one true love
floating toward you on a troubled sea
waiting for you every night
the lover who would never leave
heaven falling from the sky
and it's a lie you want to believe
impossible but it's true
the lover from your dreams
landed on your window sill
and made it possible to believe
closer, closer still but don't ever tell a soul
studying her cotton dress
and how it slips down to the floor
everybody knows
the pain of a lonely man
everybody knows
you can't hold moonlight in your hands
chosen and you don't know why
waking from your secret sleep
back into this ugly life
where secrets are hidden deep
all the people who love to hate
all the people who love to kill
all the people who just want love
all the people who never will
everybody knows
the pain of a lonely man
everybody knows
the pain…
everybody knows
Before You Met Me
John Common – wurlitzer, rhodes, samples, vocals
Matt Gilliam – trumpet, fluegal horn
it's an ugly morning
bruised and weeping
every cliché is coming true
you knew I was broken
and you tried to fix me
impossible to do
I was gone before you met me
when things got rocky
we bailed the water
and we both drowned
without a clue
I let you float away
what was I thinking
letting go of you
you turned the corner
that makes me happy
'cause moving on
is what we do
Flesh Wound
John Comon – guitars, wurlitzer, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Kevin Meyer – bass
Jed Marrs – backing vocals
flesh would, I'm bleeding a little
a reddish stain on this gray affair
it's triage at two in the morning
go find someone who cares
random, the way that I met you
spilling drinks all over the bar
in drunken delusions of grandeur
you helped me find my car
go on go. I'll stay home
go on go to your parties…
sorry to leave you suspended
twirling fingers in your hair
ask me all of your questions
I'm tired of truth or dare
I always seem to come undone
that tends to ruin all your fun
I'm such a drag to you, such a drag
I hope you find something better
I hope you find something better
I'll help you find someone better
simple is so complicated
everything good, everything bad
like walking away from a fire
where you lost all you had
Unseen Things
John Common – samples
Scott Davies – samples
You Stay
John Common – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Steve Millin – bass
I'm getting up and I aint coming back
she says this at the heart attack
third table from the back
I love you but when you lose your buzz
you see totally clear it aint like it was
even if it ever was
you don't want to see me I know
you don't want to see me so I'll go
you stay, you stay
I know I'll see you at the same old bars
drivin' around in your car
you're never too far
'cause no one ever has the balls to leave
they just make believe
like they're adam and eve
you don't want to see me I know
you don't want to see me so I'll go
you stay
Wrong Number
John Common – guitar, wurlitzer, vocals
Scott Davies – drums
Kevin Meyer – bass, backing vocals
Jed Marrs – backing vocals
I didn't know, that I was falling
it wasn't me, that you were calling
I close my eyes and hear you whisper words into my ear
words I thought that only I could hear but I was wrong
I stood alone, outside your building
you weren't home, I felt silly
maybe it's just better if we never even meet
I'd probably fall down at your feet and kiss the ground
but I can always dream
would I find the right words to say
could I make you turn the other way
maybe you could call me back today
I'll get along, just fine without you
I'll sing this song, instead of doubt you
it's easier than waiting by a phone that never rings
I'd rather sing alone than never sing, this is goodbye
but I can always dream
would I find the right words to say
could I make you turn the other way
maybe you could call me back today
Not So Bad
John Common – guitar, wurlitzer, samples, vocals
Jeremy Lawton - weisenborn
a deer in the snow scratching around
waiting to find something out
uncertainty, this solitude
all so bare, stripped away
crazy chance, foolish girl
I didn't know the mess I was
I want to know when I get home
you'll be there waiting for
me every day, work is a drag
go do the thing, money in
money out, money in
money out, money
it's a daily fight, we're suffering on
it's a daily walk, we're walking on
it's not so bad
I'm getting old, I'm feeling good
seeing the strings, connection
the snow on the ground, your shoes in the hall
mess everywhere, connection
you cut yourself, blood on your shirt
I'll stitch it up, make it whole
deep as you want, everything
everything, everything
everything, everything
everything, every
it's a daily walk, we're walking on
it's a daily fight, we're fighting on
it's not so bad
it's not so bad at all
it's not so bad at all
LGM
John Comon – guitar, banjo, samples, vocals
Jeremy Lawton - weisenborn
this world's a crazy fucked up mess
the animals can have it back
let's get married
burn the houses, bomb the streets
I want to go back to the tree
let's get married
somebody told me long ago
when you're ready you will know
I think I'm ready
ready for you and me
we've been alone since we were born
we'll be alone when this is gone
let's get married
somewhere out there
two roads converging
the intersection is where
we're headed babe
these chains we made are in our minds
it took a while to realize
let's get married
Do You Hate (karaoke)
John Comon – samples, vocals
Jed Marrs – casio
Scott Davies – clave
do you hate your name
do you hate your face
do you hide your hands
do they give you away
does it make you sick
do you want to die
when you hear that voice
do you go inside
do you see your dad
and the things he did
when you lie awake
in an empty bed
do you close the door
and then cry all night
do you get pissed off
when you hear the truth
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies we fight
just gave up and went home
have you had enough
are you checking out
is it time to burn
this old wooden house
is it easier
is it better for you
when you disappear
step out of view
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies you fight
just gave up and went home
Response
John Common – guitar, rhodes
WHY BIRDS FLY
Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.
All songs by John Common (BMI)
Produced by John Common
Engineered by Scott Davies, Jeremy Lawton, John Common
Recorded at Emmasaurus Sound
Mixed and mastered by Jeremy Lawton
Art direction and design by John Common
Call
John Common – guitar, rhodes
Already There
John Common – guitar, vocals
Jeremy Lawton – conjunculator
way back, before I can remember
everything was shut down on me
I was living like a goldfish
swimming in my circle
waiting for a hand to pick me out
save me for later
when I'm less sedated
good god help me good
I'm already there
I was so lonely, living like a shut in
watching all my windows shut down
I got the silent treatment
then I started screaming
oh god come dig me out
save me for later
when I'm less sedated
oh good god help me good
I'm already there
the window is cold on my cheek
I'm getting old, don't you think
god help me good
I'm already there
mary interceding on my behalf
I need you now
it's early morning
the birds in the trees
are singing
Do You Hate
John Comon – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Steve Millin – bass
Jeremy Lawton – backing vocals
do you hate your name
do you hate your face
do you hide your hands
do they give you away
does it make you sick
do you want to die
when you hear that voice
do you go inside
do you see your dad
and the things he did
when you lie awake
in an empty bed
do you close the door
and then cry all night
do you get pissed off
when you hear the truth
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies we fight
just gave up and went home
have you had enough
are you checking out
is it time to burn
this old wooden house
is it easier
is it better for you
when you disappear
step out of view
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies you fight
just gave up and went home
Moonlight
John Common – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums
Steve Millin – bass
Jeremy Lawton – conjunculator
Chris Eagleton - samples
Adam Lancaster - guitar
you hear it on the radio
late at night when you sleep
dreaming of your one true love
floating toward you on a troubled sea
waiting for you every night
the lover who would never leave
heaven falling from the sky
and it's a lie you want to believe
impossible but it's true
the lover from your dreams
landed on your window sill
and made it possible to believe
closer, closer still but don't ever tell a soul
studying her cotton dress
and how it slips down to the floor
everybody knows
the pain of a lonely man
everybody knows
you can't hold moonlight in your hands
chosen and you don't know why
waking from your secret sleep
back into this ugly life
where secrets are hidden deep
all the people who love to hate
all the people who love to kill
all the people who just want love
all the people who never will
everybody knows
the pain of a lonely man
everybody knows
the pain…
everybody knows
Before You Met Me
John Common – wurlitzer, rhodes, samples, vocals
Matt Gilliam – trumpet, fluegal horn
it's an ugly morning
bruised and weeping
every cliché is coming true
you knew I was broken
and you tried to fix me
impossible to do
I was gone before you met me
when things got rocky
we bailed the water
and we both drowned
without a clue
I let you float away
what was I thinking
letting go of you
you turned the corner
that makes me happy
'cause moving on
is what we do
Flesh Wound
John Comon – guitars, wurlitzer, samples, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Kevin Meyer – bass
Jed Marrs – backing vocals
flesh would, I'm bleeding a little
a reddish stain on this gray affair
it's triage at two in the morning
go find someone who cares
random, the way that I met you
spilling drinks all over the bar
in drunken delusions of grandeur
you helped me find my car
go on go. I'll stay home
go on go to your parties…
sorry to leave you suspended
twirling fingers in your hair
ask me all of your questions
I'm tired of truth or dare
I always seem to come undone
that tends to ruin all your fun
I'm such a drag to you, such a drag
I hope you find something better
I hope you find something better
I'll help you find someone better
simple is so complicated
everything good, everything bad
like walking away from a fire
where you lost all you had
Unseen Things
John Common – samples
Scott Davies – samples
You Stay
John Common – guitars, wurlitzer, piano, vocals
Scott Davies – drums, samples
Steve Millin – bass
I'm getting up and I aint coming back
she says this at the heart attack
third table from the back
I love you but when you lose your buzz
you see totally clear it aint like it was
even if it ever was
you don't want to see me I know
you don't want to see me so I'll go
you stay, you stay
I know I'll see you at the same old bars
drivin' around in your car
you're never too far
'cause no one ever has the balls to leave
they just make believe
like they're adam and eve
you don't want to see me I know
you don't want to see me so I'll go
you stay
Wrong Number
John Common – guitar, wurlitzer, vocals
Scott Davies – drums
Kevin Meyer – bass, backing vocals
Jed Marrs – backing vocals
I didn't know, that I was falling
it wasn't me, that you were calling
I close my eyes and hear you whisper words into my ear
words I thought that only I could hear but I was wrong
I stood alone, outside your building
you weren't home, I felt silly
maybe it's just better if we never even meet
I'd probably fall down at your feet and kiss the ground
but I can always dream
would I find the right words to say
could I make you turn the other way
maybe you could call me back today
I'll get along, just fine without you
I'll sing this song, instead of doubt you
it's easier than waiting by a phone that never rings
I'd rather sing alone than never sing, this is goodbye
but I can always dream
would I find the right words to say
could I make you turn the other way
maybe you could call me back today
Not So Bad
John Common – guitar, wurlitzer, samples, vocals
Jeremy Lawton - weisenborn
a deer in the snow scratching around
waiting to find something out
uncertainty, this solitude
all so bare, stripped away
crazy chance, foolish girl
I didn't know the mess I was
I want to know when I get home
you'll be there waiting for
me every day, work is a drag
go do the thing, money in
money out, money in
money out, money
it's a daily fight, we're suffering on
it's a daily walk, we're walking on
it's not so bad
I'm getting old, I'm feeling good
seeing the strings, connection
the snow on the ground, your shoes in the hall
mess everywhere, connection
you cut yourself, blood on your shirt
I'll stitch it up, make it whole
deep as you want, everything
everything, everything
everything, everything
everything, every
it's a daily walk, we're walking on
it's a daily fight, we're fighting on
it's not so bad
it's not so bad at all
it's not so bad at all
LGM
John Comon – guitar, banjo, samples, vocals
Jeremy Lawton - weisenborn
this world's a crazy fucked up mess
the animals can have it back
let's get married
burn the houses, bomb the streets
I want to go back to the tree
let's get married
somebody told me long ago
when you're ready you will know
I think I'm ready
ready for you and me
we've been alone since we were born
we'll be alone when this is gone
let's get married
somewhere out there
two roads converging
the intersection is where
we're headed babe
these chains we made are in our minds
it took a while to realize
let's get married
Do You Hate (karaoke)
John Comon – samples, vocals
Jed Marrs – casio
Scott Davies – clave
do you hate your name
do you hate your face
do you hide your hands
do they give you away
does it make you sick
do you want to die
when you hear that voice
do you go inside
do you see your dad
and the things he did
when you lie awake
in an empty bed
do you close the door
and then cry all night
do you get pissed off
when you hear the truth
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies we fight
just gave up and went home
have you had enough
are you checking out
is it time to burn
this old wooden house
is it easier
is it better for you
when you disappear
step out of view
what if we all died tonight
do you think that would be alright
what if all the lies you fight
just gave up and went home
Response
John Common – guitar, rhodes
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Arabian Bar
the arabian bar
there is an old bar in my neighborhood
it stays mostly empty and the jukebox is good
dale pours 'em strong and he lights my cigarettes
he knows when to talk and when to forget
I've been comin' here since Gulf War 1
I figured out late that nobody won
I lost my leg but I got this bronze star
these days I pretty much live at this bar
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
one tuesday night about a quarter 'til one
in walks two brown eyes looking for fun
her smile was a confesion and her body was a crime
and if she'd be my jail I'd gladly do the time
she was the kind of girl you see down at the gas station
hanging out, smoking, making invitations
she leaned to one side and that got me to thinking
she said "my name's maria -- what you boys drinking?"
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
I used to drink whiskey, I used to drink gin
I used to do anything I could get my hands in
that's when I was young, but I aint young anymore
they call me a hero but I don't know what for
now that young girl made me think once or twice
if I was a little bit younger you know it'd be nice
I said, "girl, take my beer, I gotta go"
"But I don't wanna see you around here no more"
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
there is an old bar in my neighborhood
it stays mostly empty and the jukebox is good
dale pours 'em strong and he lights my cigarettes
he knows when to talk and when to forget
I've been comin' here since Gulf War 1
I figured out late that nobody won
I lost my leg but I got this bronze star
these days I pretty much live at this bar
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
one tuesday night about a quarter 'til one
in walks two brown eyes looking for fun
her smile was a confesion and her body was a crime
and if she'd be my jail I'd gladly do the time
she was the kind of girl you see down at the gas station
hanging out, smoking, making invitations
she leaned to one side and that got me to thinking
she said "my name's maria -- what you boys drinking?"
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
I used to drink whiskey, I used to drink gin
I used to do anything I could get my hands in
that's when I was young, but I aint young anymore
they call me a hero but I don't know what for
now that young girl made me think once or twice
if I was a little bit younger you know it'd be nice
I said, "girl, take my beer, I gotta go"
"But I don't wanna see you around here no more"
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me? No
you wanna find me?
go to the arabian bar
This House Is A Prison (I'm Gonna Break Out) -- Dog Record Update #2
This song started as a kind of break up song between a dog and her/his owner. It's written from the dog's perspective of course. I was thinking about how a fairly large percentage of dogs seem to ALWAYS be trying to break out and run away. Have you ever stopped to ask why this is so? Maybe they're just really unhappy.
I never thought a song about a dog could feel so... human.
...
oh this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out
I've been making my plan
I'm gonna break out
it's a big, big world
and I can't stay here
I hope I don't sound
too severe
but this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out…
when I first came here
everything was great
but in a couple of years
I started going insane
we could have seen the big big world
together
you said, "never say never"
and I believed you
oh this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out
I've been making my plan
I'm gonna break out
it's a big, big world
and I can't stay here
I hope I don't sound
too severe
this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out…
oh I waited for years
for you to come around
maybe take me out
but you never did
I want you to know
you've been good to me
but when it's time to go
that's all you can see
it tears my heart right out
to leave you
I never wanted to deceive you
but you won't let me go
oh this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out
I've been making my plan
I'm gonna break out
it's a big, big world
and I can't stay here
I hope I don't sound
too severe
this house is a prison
this house is a prison
this house is a prison
I'm gonna break out…
Monday, May 12, 2008
Showing Good Faith (Your Crotch, My Nose)
Upon hearing about my idea for a Dog Record, my good friend and consigliere, Marty, called and offered to help me bring this baby into the world... a curator-meets-midwife kind of role. Sometimes, all you need is a little faith and encouragement from a friend to get the creative ball rolling on a new record...
Here is the email I wrote him about an hour after our lively discussion about the record:
...
Marty,
To show good faith, when we got off the phone, I started work on a couple of songs for my forthcoming Dog Opus... One song, still in progress, is tentatively titled "Stray". That song tries to capture the serendipitous-and-deliciously-complex moment when a lonely wandering man and a lonely wandering dog finally find each other. Think Brokeback Mountain meets Lassie.
I just finished the second song (below). It is most definitely titled, "Your Crotch, My Nose". It's a jangly folk number with a rural heart and big city dreams. The song descends into an introspective outro... that will leave you pondering the imponderable, questioning the unanswerable, fathoming the... well you get the point.
Yours,
John
...
Your Crotch, My Nose
may 12, 2008
intro
I don't know why I do it
it's buried deep inside my genes
but when your friends and family visit
I always make a scene
it's not about affection
or these feelings that we've felt
it's merely an inspection
of that mystery below your belt
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
but they go together
intro
I don't know why you're squirming
breaking out into a sweat
you act like I'm a stranger
like we've never even met
you're blushing and you're cussing
trying to push me away
but you know I'm not a quitter
you didn't raise me that way
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
instrumental bridge
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
but they go together
they go together
they go together
they go together
Here is the email I wrote him about an hour after our lively discussion about the record:
...
Marty,
To show good faith, when we got off the phone, I started work on a couple of songs for my forthcoming Dog Opus... One song, still in progress, is tentatively titled "Stray". That song tries to capture the serendipitous-and-deliciously-complex moment when a lonely wandering man and a lonely wandering dog finally find each other. Think Brokeback Mountain meets Lassie.
I just finished the second song (below). It is most definitely titled, "Your Crotch, My Nose". It's a jangly folk number with a rural heart and big city dreams. The song descends into an introspective outro... that will leave you pondering the imponderable, questioning the unanswerable, fathoming the... well you get the point.
Yours,
John
...
Your Crotch, My Nose
may 12, 2008
intro
I don't know why I do it
it's buried deep inside my genes
but when your friends and family visit
I always make a scene
it's not about affection
or these feelings that we've felt
it's merely an inspection
of that mystery below your belt
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
but they go together
intro
I don't know why you're squirming
breaking out into a sweat
you act like I'm a stranger
like we've never even met
you're blushing and you're cussing
trying to push me away
but you know I'm not a quitter
you didn't raise me that way
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
instrumental bridge
your crotch, my nose
your crotch, my nose
I don't know why…
I don't know why…
but they go together
they go together
they go together
they go together
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