There Goeth Pride

Wonderful Wanda Nowicki's recording of a song I wrote with Hilary Grist.  Fine guitar work by Harris Van Berkel

The One More Time Cafe

A piece from my 'It Should Be a Felony' collection. Hope you all enjoy!

Dew Upon My Lips

City Keeps

First half of a two part song.   Inspired by a B-movie Scream Queen I was dating.  The title was intentionally absurd.  She was, in fact, a flying fish.  The second half of the song will be included later.  

Mr. Green on drums, Teo on bass, Ralph on lead guitar, me on rhythm guitar, vocals, lyrics, music.  Final line of this recording was the beginning of the next song.

My Little Wolverine

Recorded with Teo Graca and Ralph Fernandez in Teo's Nasty Plastic studios.  I wrote the lyrics, composed the music, sang and played acoustic rhythm guitar.  Ralph played lead guitar and slide.  Teo played bass, produced, ... and maracas.  I think we had Scott Green on drums.  I asked Scott to play like a drunk man walking down the street... ricocheting off walls, around the beat.

Meat Market

Teo, me and Ralph recorded the music for this poem/song/spoken word thing.  Teo and Ralph knew each other so well that, after I'd recorded the vocals, Teo said to Ralph "Blues in A" and they were off.   No rehearsing, no practice, certainly no musical guidance from me.  Their first take went straight onto the tape.   Amazing to me.  Ralph came back and laid down a lead.  Teo on Bass, production, drum machine.  Ralph played rhythm and lead guitar.  Lyrics/poem and voice are mine.

Per request, the words:

"Forever Into Darkness"

Given one chance we would pull out a separate plan, a slice
	Carve out different fates, cream of visionary.
We could wrap each other in designs untuned
	Dream of harmony.

Strings snap as we try to raise the pitch,
	tension too great.
The wine I bring as solace stands untouched, languid.
A word could pass muster,
	No gesture would suffice,
Reconcile, reconcile.
Mean streets glitter in fog,
	Unnamable, labyrinthine.
Pocked people pump and bray
	In a smattering of low key strife.
I want to surround you with steel,
	Chastened by free access.




Rage rims your eyes,
	Sirens serenade your patio.
Petty malice,
	It’s worn thin between strangers.
		Worn on a sleeve for effect,
		It’s black leather, crestfallen golden Mohawks, uninvited sneer.

The city is paper mache on your newspaper-strewn table,
The city blushes under your traveler’s scrutiny,
Yet you crawl into my suburban boy’s arms
	When she shows you a bruise?

You don’t want to be saved
	‘The suburbs are slow death’
I slummed awhile in ghettoes
	The suburbs are slow life.
I’m not rich enough to love the city,
Not young enough to be duped into romantic squalor,
	Guns are no lullaby.

You would draw me gently
	Into your fold, nurse me and milk me,
You would take harbor in my arms,
	My halo of destruction,
My love for you fights with a hate of my life
You mustn’t follow.

The window is cracked,
The gas fights nicotine.
Quiet is quelled by stereo,
My fist pounds down as I recall
	Paralysis;  bound and locked away.
I love you for your sanctuary,
	For your self beyond this all
		I couldn’t draw you down,
			Forever, Into darkness.

© Maxx Abraxxas

Forever Into Darkness

Spinhead - SUBZ

When Spinhead was a little boy he would dream about his toys.
Now that he has up and grown, he’s moved into the twilight zone.
He fondles his guitar and dreams that he’s a shooting star.
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age. He’s come of age.”
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age.He’s come of age”

When Spinhead first learned how to play correspondence was the way.
No instructor could stand near him. He played so loud that they all feared him.
But every day he had to play, because he knew his friends would say…
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age. He’s come of age.”
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age.He’s come of age”

Now you can hear him week to week. He has them dancing cheek to cheek.
They curse at him and spit their beer, in a trance he does not hear.
It never plays that when he plays the whole damn world is miles away.
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age. He’s come of age.”
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age.He’s come of age”
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age. He’s come of age.”
	All his friends say, “Spinhead’s come of age.He’s come of age.
	He’s come of age. He’s come of age.”

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Spinhead

fear

Stephen Twist - Lonely Just Goes On

From Don't Go There. Available here http://www.salmonpoetry.com/details.php?ID=258&a=219

Spinhead

Jimmy ThePeach

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