Crow Lullaby

Produced by Alexander Veselak

Lyrics:

I have listened to the wind
And tasted the breeze
Followed the seasons
like a leaf in a tree

i've weathered beneath the weather
withstood some time
chased it all down
with big gulps of wine

for wisdom i've quested
and wisdom i've found
could never be bottled
and carried around

but if i have learned something
from the whispering pines
that wisdom without love
is a jug without wine

and my life is a magnum
in a bums careful hands
every drop emptied
but i've got a plan

I'll crawl and i'll scramble
i'll scamper and search
i'll follow the shadow
to the sun that gave birth

to the lonesome ol' feelin'
thats been passed around
from the banker to the poet
from the poet to the clown

when i find it i'll take out
that ol' jug of wine
and fill it with love
that for a moment is mine

Jug Of Wine

A preliminary recording of this tune  There is a cleaner and generally more enjoyable version on the horizon as well as a video.  For now enjoy the savagely abrasive guitar solo and the uncertain time.

Lyrics:

its a fire on the mountain
its a ragged canvas coat
its warmin' up a belly
with whiskey down the throat

it's the rumblin' of the diesel
the tightenin' of a bolt
its the crun ch of minus fourty
the hum  of thousand volts

fingers raw from steel strings
mind burnin' hot like coal
its a winter storm at north beach
wearin' holes into my soles

its a fire on the mountain
its a ragged canvas coat
the warmin' of a belly
with whiskey down the throat

its the rotor wash class windchill
whole months in the pourin' rain
tires spinnin' in  the muskeg
devil's club bringin' you pain

the scarecrow in the garden
ain't foolin' them ol crows
that neverending feeling
big seas in a tiny boat

its a fire on the mountain
its a ragged canvas coat
its warmin' up a belly
with whiskey down the throat

the chainsaw's in the buckbrush
the dozer's stuck in a rut
the diesel barrel emptied
so to all be covered in mud
soon we'll all be covered in mud

The warming of a belly.

Another rough mix from my sm57 and fostex mr8.  Made the recording this morning, unfortunately my fiddle is acting up due to a bad crack on the top.  I never down-tuned it before, and noticed that it doesn't resonate the same when its down half a step.  

The meaning of life is to search for answers to impossible questions.  Like dogs chasing their  own tails.  

Sometimes when i sing this song it seems ultra cheesy, other times terrifying.

Lyrics:
Its time to set the sun down
And go for a walk in the dark
to try and find the place
that rests between our brain and our hearts

to lay down in the meadow 
beneath the cloudy sky
and try to fight the urges
that demand we find out why

we are freeeeee
free to build our own
we are freeeeee
free to sit up on our throne
we are freeeee

now you've turned to face the wind
till tears flow down your cheek
and i've tried to find a spirit
thats both fierce and meek

but there still aren't any answer
beneath the cloudy sky
and every single question
just ends up being why

we are freeeeee
free to build our own
we are freeeeee
free to sit up on our throne
we are freeeee

now the words are getting heavy
and the feelings all feel the same
you've held beauty with your fingers
and i've been numbed by pain

but theres still always one question
that hounds us you and I
why do we exist?
only to shrivel up and die

are we free?

We'll Be Free

A spontaneous little song recorded on the first day of the berlin sessions.  Goofy and poignant.  Kindly dig the xylophone and the bass honks.  Such lightness.....

Lyrics:
Oh! I ate some mashed potatoes, chicken, beans and pie
Oh! I ate so much of them 
That now i cannot fly

Now i cannot fly my friends, now I cannot fly
Now I cannot fly 
I'm on the ground not in the sky

Spent all of the morning drinkin' whiskey, beer and wine
now that its the evening I still cant walk a line
But I don't wanna walk 'cuz 
I only want to fly
I only want to fly but I'm too fat and drunk to try

Now i cannot fly my friends, now I cannot fly
Now I cannot fly 
I'm on the ground not in the sky

Then I ate some strawberries and many kinds of cake
I'm probly gonna eat until my insides up and break
And now that I ate everything I'm feeling kinda ill
I wonder if i'll ever learn and I doubt I ever will

now i cannot fly my friends, now I cannot fly
now I cannot fly i'm on the ground not in the sky

This track was recorded and produced by @thescientificromance aboard starship veselak.

Now I Cannot Fly

An early draft of a string band tune I'm composing about the moment in the day where (when?) you realize that there is nothing left to do but to go bowling.

I learned about this subject as a old boy when I first watched The Big Lebowski.

fuck it dude, lets go bowling

A fiddle waltz in C peppered with gentle creaking.  Name stolen from a passage in a Cormac McCarthy book.  Weary.

To Fall Through Dark To Darkness

Russ and I throwing down our first ever guitar-viola jam.  A new song was born.  Named after a box canyon across the valley from the cabin.  You are one of the first, and one of the only humans to ever listen to it.  I hope you feel the joy.  I felt the joy.  I feel the joy.

Butterfly Canyon

Russ and I made up and recorded this song last night.  We don't know the words by heart yet, but we tried anyways.

Lyrics:
Waiting on the sun to start the day
Sippin' on a coffee, taters on the way
Wishing that we had some meat in the pan
My daddy and brother start making a plan


Brother took-a-look and began to shout
Go up to the bedroom git your rifle now
A mean-ol' doe is a-coming our way
Gonna get our dinner from a quarter mile away


Only wearin' longjohns didn't have on my boots
So I loaded up the rifle and decided to shoot
Opened up the window let the bullets fly
Emptied out the clip hitting nothing but sky


Brother took-a-look and began to shout
That deer is still a-coming lets go hide out in the yard
We leaned our rifles up against the gate
Gonna get our dinner from a quarter mile away


Four shots rang out and echoed round our heads
Wondering if the deer was a-hiding or dead
Ran up in the hill, thin snow on the ground
Not a trace of that doe to be found


Brother took-a-look and began to shout
I found the track there's blood on the ground
Hundred pounds of meat and we didn't have to pay
We got our dinner from a quarter mile away


Gonna Get Our Dinner

Russ and I are learning the Dallas Rag.  It can be a rough ride at times, but it is extremely jaunty.

Dallas Rag

The latest iteration of the wild onion patch.  Co-written by Russ and Erin.  The lyrics need one last pass, the story isn't coherent yet.

Lyrics:
we know where the wild onion grows
by the creek that always flows
a fable from the days of old
claims they dug up all the gold

turned my boots from the rocky shore
dock my boat forevermore
walked till I found an onion patch
laid down a while started fillin' my sack

i hear a rustle out in the onion patch
a chukar's trying to steal my stash
those bulbs are worth their weight in gold
take off my boots and I creep real slow

I grab the body and wring its throat
Held its legs and plucked its coat
Slice the belly watch the guts come out
The grit of the gizzard tempts the snout

I've gotta cook this bird before it starts to rot
Empty cupboard's won't fill my pot
I sit back and make a song
Harvest words from my lexicon

then late at night I set the ground alight
To send a message to the other side

"Bring some taters, we'll have a stew
I'll fry some onions and the chukar too
we've built a bridge but not too wide
come and fetch some onion from the other side
we've been saved by the cherry grove
and the smell of sage hangs off our clothes"

we know where the wild onions grow
by the creek that will always flow
and we've been saved by the cherry grove
and the smell of sage hangs off our clothes.




First Blood  (Wild Onion Patch)

The centerpiece of the EP I collaborated on.  Get the EP at:

wineswamp.bandcamp.com

Lyrics:
It's a fire on the mountain 
In a ragged canvas coat 
It's warmin' up a belly 
With whiskey down the throat 

It's the rumblin' of the diesel 
The tightenin' of a bolt 
The crunch of minus fourty 
The hum of thousand volts 

Fingers raw from steel strings 
Mind burnin' hot like coal 
It's a winter storm at north beach 
Wearin' holes into my soles 

It's a fire on the mountain 
In a ragged canvas coat 
It's warmin' up a belly 
With whiskey down the throat 

The rotor wash class windchill 
A whole months in the pourin' rain 
Tires spinnin' in the muskeg 
Devil's club bringin' you pain 

The scarecrow in the garden 
Ain't foolin' them ol crows 
That neverending feeling 
Big seas in a tiny boat 

It's a fire on the mountain 
In a ragged canvas coat 
It's warmin' up a belly 
With whiskey down the throat 

The chainsaw's in the buckbrush 
The 'dozer's stuck in a rut 
The diesel barrel emptied 
Soon to all be covered in mud 
soon we'll all be covered in mud
credits
from The Shitstorm EP, released December 5, 2015 
Lyrics and original song idea: lub0t 
Acoustic Guitar, harmonica, singing, voice: lub0t 
Bass, harmonies, electric guitar: Alexander Veselak 
All production and recording by Alexander Veselak.

Warmin' of the Belly

Debut EP from Swan Slims available at swanslims.bandcamp.com.  A bit of a rough ride at times, but a good hint of the good things to come.  That me on fiddle/backup vocals, Mark on bass/backup vocals/recording, and Russ on songwriting/vocals/guitar.

Take One

Floating Down a River

The Shitstorm EP

Shitstorm

Just a quick snapshot of the types of things that happen when I'm drunk and alone at my cabin.

Ladadadadadada

Some savage improvised fiddling I did in a shed.  Yeehooo

Primordial Brine

Raw enough to still have a beating heart.



Despite my best thinking, I still give a shit.

lub0t

Pinned to spotlight

Popular tracks