I'm writing a song a day in January 2022. Anything can happen.

JAMuary 2022

A folk-rock song following in the footsteps of Bob Dylan and Woodie Guthrie (but performed in my own messy JAMuary style).

When I was a sailboat rat I crossed the nineteen seas.
I thought I could be a clever cat, but all I got were fleas. 
I tried to find a better place. The playground is the thing.
And if you free me from this gilded maze, I will bow and call you king.

Big Bell was born a rich man. Back Door was born a thief.
I’d love to find out which man can overturn this leaf,
Which man can change his cuckoo clock before the stroke of three,
And which of these men can manage to unlock the animal in me. 

You’re gonna find it when you least expect it,
Oh, it’s gonna find you. 
It’s gonna hit you when you reach the exit,
Oh, just to remind you
Desire can blind you.

There is no do, there is no try: at first, you don’t succeed.
You’d let your darling blossoms die to stop a healthy weed.
You’d rather burn your bridges down than build a new canal.
My given name is Allentown, but you can call me Al.

When budding kings begin to wilt, it’s now a new tradition
To fill the streets of Vanderbilt with Vander Demolition,
To flood the roads with heavy rains, wash all your hopes downstream.
We’ll need another flock of giant cranes to make this mess a meme.

You’re gonna find it when you least expect it,
Oh, it’s gonna find you. 
It comes together when you’re disconnected,
Oh, just to remind you
Desire can blind you.

I found a hidden gem of math that fell behind the stair:
Misinformation paves the path to get from here to there.
Before I sign this birthday card and bless it with a stamp,
Remember songs that weren’t this long and hard you used to sing at camp.

Those lah-de-dahs were quite the hit of adolescent rhymes.
You swapped them for a stencil kit to standardize your minds.
Now all you do is swing and miss these curveballs from your teachers.
It’s time to swing and break this learning bat, and knock it past the bleachers.

Back Door Al and the Wild Rose Epiphany (#JamuarySongADay 2)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Song 4 is a hook-laden, piano-heavy, Beatles-influenced song that tells about a fiction writer who's always on the prowl for people with interesting backstories.

So maybe you guessed I’m a teacher,
But I’m not a wizard or guru.
You look like a marvelous creature,
And I want to discover the true you.

I’ll write you into my novel
In the flimsiest of disguises.
I hope you’re unpredictable.
My readers like surprises.

I’ve got your number.
And I don’t mean your telephone number. 
I’ve got your number.
I figured out your archetype number.
Did you know that you’re archetype 93?

It’s not fair to call me a vampire.
I don’t want your blood. I won’t drain you.
Pretend that your soul is campfire,
Just show me the wood that sustains you.

It might be a form of addiction,
But I need to know your story.
I don’t have a talent for fiction.
You’ll have to speak more slowly. 

I’ve got your number.
And I don’t mean your telephone number. 
I’ve got your number.
I’m talking about your archetype number.
Ain’t it cool that you’re archetype 93?

Archetype 93 (I've Got Your Number) (JamuarySongADay 4)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Song 5 is a terrifying story about a used car possessed by evil forces. Suspenseful 9th chords, heartbeat bass, autotune, and vocoder.

I’m afraid to drive this car.
It looks and sounds and smells bizarre.
We could just walk. It’s not that far.

I’m afraid to touch the brakes.
Don’t like the hissing sound it makes.
I woke up the undercarriage snakes.

I’m afraid to touch the gas.
What if my nightmare comes to pass?
It ends with a spray of broken glass.

I'll tell you what freaks me out the most:
Seeing the former driver’s ghost
And when the lights across the dash
Start their coordinated flash. 
Some people say it’s no big thing.
They haven’t read much Stephen King!
I’m afraid to touch the wheel.
I don’t even know what’s real.
And when the handles and the locks
Start to dispense electric shocks,
I’m afraid to drive this car.
Can’t we just leave it where we are?
It looks and sounds and smells bizarre.
We could just walk. It’s not that far.

Snakes in a Car (#JamuarySongADay 5)

I'm writing a song every day for #JAMuary. In this fragment of a song, my aim was to use the densest and lushest synth pads and textures that I could away with. I thought I was going over the top when I recorded it, but on the playback I think it sounds smooth and sweet, so maybe this was a successful experiment. The lyrics are meant as an ironic rebuttal to The Who's song "Won't Get Fooled Again."

We got fooled again. 
Said it would never happen
But guess what happened:
They used the same script again,
And every expert and thinker
Fell hook, line, and sinker.

Why aren’t we learning to be more discerning?
Our guard is dropping when we ought to be stopping.

If you said “Just wait ’til next time,”
Too late, it’s already next time. 
Always been this way and nothing’s gonna change it.
Nothing’s gonna change until we’re up to changing our minds.

We Got Fooled Again (#JamuarySongADay 7)

I'm writing a song every day for #JAMuary. Today's track offers a gentle, deep, trancey, relaxing vibe.

Theme and Revelations (instrumental) (#JamuarySongADay 9)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. These lyrics are from my 2016  notebook, and I wrote the music today. Uncomfortable subject matter.  A simple, one-take guitar/vocal recording. 

Creepy stalker Santa 
Knows a bit too much about you.
He knows when you’re awake,
And he sees you while you sleep.
He brought you more red dresses.
He thinks you like red dresses.
He knows your perfect dress size.
That’s one secret you can’t keep. 

Creepy stalker Santa
Knows what’s on your wish list.
He brought what’s on your wish list
And an extra thing or two.
He came in through the chimney
And left this awkward poem.
Creepy stalker Santa is in love with you. 

He says, “Come with me to the North Pole in the springtime,
In the springtime, when the ice begins to crack.
I want to fly around the world together.
The love I need from you is the only thing I lack.”

Creepy stalker Santa
Knows what’s on your wish list.
He brought what’s on your wish list
And an extra thing or two.
He came in through the chimney
And left this awkward poem.
Creepy stalker Santa is in love with you.

Creepy Stalker Santa (#JamuarySongADay 10)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Methinks song 12 doth protest too much.

I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I got this under control.

I know how I’m doin’ it.
I’m not gonna ruin it.
I know how I’m doin' it.
I’ve got the whole thing under control. 

I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I got this under control.

I am not desperate.
I’m not at all winging it.
Why would you be thinking that?
I swear I’ve got it under control. 

I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I totally got this under control.
I got this under control.

Totally Under Control (#JamuarySongADay 12)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. For song 15, I was trying to direct my time machine to about 1969.

Who’s gonna break
Who’s gonna break 
Who’s gonna break my concentration?

Break my concentration, baby
Break my concentration, baby

Break My Concentration (#JamuarySongADay 15)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Today's song is a California-flavored alt-rock number with an absurd tale about marketing advice for musical artists.

I went to see an expert
On marketing and branding
My mindshare isn’t shrinking
But it sure is not expanding

I planted all these magic beans
But none of them are climbing
Am I doomed to be a might-have-been
With a lousy sense of timing?

I said, I can hardly hear you
Your signal’s getting weaker
She said, You’re in the same damn room as me
And I just explained you need to be uniquer
Uniquer
Uniquer
To climb this tree you need to be uniquer

I said, That word you’re using,
It fills my soul with terror
’Cause by itself it constitutes
A grievous usage error.

She said, Good grammar carried you this far,
But you won’t be remembered.
Space goblins wrecked your ship of star,
And your fan club’s been dismembered.

Your fog machine’s not fogging
And your tanker is a leaker,
But this can all be overcome
With a lightning course on how to be uniquer,
Uniquer,
Uniquer,
To reach the peak it helps to think uniquer.

You scratch an itch that’s very niche
But if you want the honest picture
For how bizarre you think you are
You could still be ten times nicher

I know you think you’re so distinct
It’s shining out from every sphincter
Expand your range and up your strange
Exponentially distincter

Your freak flag flies at TJ Maxx
On the clearance racks
So don’t tell me you’re back and slightly freaker
You can’t outtalk the Talking Heads
You can’t top Chic by being chicer

That sauce is mild at Taco Bell
Good God, you need to be uniquer
Uniquer
Uniquer
To climb this tree you need to be uniquer
Uniquer
Uniquer
All heads will turn if you can burn uniquer
Uniquer
Uniquer
Don’t look the same to win this game
Uniquer
Uniquer…

Uniquer (#JamuarySongADay 17)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Number 21 is a silly song about a scary but not very specific monster. Be afraid -- be vaguely afraid!

Now the stories we’ve been hearing from the north and from the east
Talk of Appalachian demons and Monongahela beasts
You’ll rub your eyes in wonder when you see it drawing near
Then you’ll try to take a picture just to prove that it was here

Call in the priests and poets and a scientific team
’Cause this should not exist outside a novel or a dream
We have fantasy artists making sketches for the news
And Kraken Squad commanders who are shaking in their shoes

Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster on the loose
If we knew what kind we’d tell you
We’re not trying to be obtuse
Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster still at large
It could be right behind you, so watch out!
Unidentified monster

If you have to have a name, call it Late December Freeze
Call it Cellophane Tiger, call it Gorgonzola Cheese
You can follow its track as it roams across our nations
By the spike in Google searches for the Book of Revelations

Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster on the loose
If we knew what kind we’d tell you
We’re not trying to be obtuse
Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster still at large
It could be right behind you, so watch out!
Unidentified monster (aaaa!)
Unidentified monster (aaaa!)
Unidentified (aaaa!) monster

Now it could be miles away or it could be right nearby
We won’t know until we find it and we look it in the eye
We have orders to arrest it, in accordance with the law
If you see it call the tip line, that’s 1-800-WAAAAAA!

Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster on the loose
If we knew what kind we’d tell you
We’re not trying to be obtuse
Unidentified monster!
Unidentified monster still at large
It could be right behind you, so watch out!
Unidentified monster (aaaa!)
Unidentified monster (aaaa!)
Unidentified (aaaa!) monster

Unidentified Monster (#JamuarySongADay 21)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. Song 22 is my version of reggae on acoustic guitar, with a story about a cat that defies pet stereotypes.

Well I never saw a cat do a trick like that
And I never saw a cat fetch a stick like that
And I have never known a cat that came
When you called it by name

Crazy situation
Defying expectation
Here’s my observation:
Your cat is borderline dog

Your cat
Your cat is
Your cat is borderline dog
Your cat
Your cat is
Your cat is borderline dog

Well I never saw a cat do a trick like that
And I never saw a cat fetch a stick like that
And what kind of cat would sit and stand
And roll over on command?

It’s the only cat in the nation
Defying categorization
What’s the explanation?
Your cat is borderline dog

Your cat
Your cat is
Your cat is borderline dog
Your cat
Your cat is
Your cat is borderline dog

(Your Cat Is) Borderline Dog (#JamuarySongADay 22)

I'm writing a song a day for #JAMuary. On number 29, I start with this nifty chord progression and just kept overdubbing stuff until I ran out of space in the mix.

On the Count of Six (instrumental) (#JamuarySongADay 29)

Written by Nathan-Andrew Leaflight and Paul Nordquist.

I asked my longtime musical colleague and collaborator Nathan-Andrew Leaflight to send me some lyrics that I could use for #JAMuary. He send me this poignant and witty tale of Bigfoot trying to adapt to the modern world. But I didn't manage to get this complicated production finished by the end of January. In the spirit of "better late than never," here's my JAMuary bonus track for you.

If you gave neanderthals a shave,
Dressed them up in business suits,
They wouldn’t rate a second glance
From brow-ridges to cowboy boots. 

The tale is different altogether
For the giant hairy guy.
No shave will help him pass much better
Than a camel through a needle’s eye.

Through swamp oak, beech, and evergreen,
In sunlight or in fog,
The best Woodwose no one had seen
On hill or creek-y bog.

He’s got to adapt, got to evolve,
Be a natural selection. 
When even trees grow camera traps
He still avoids detection.

But it’s a small world after all,
And only getting smaller 
For a walking anthropoidal wall,
Already four feet taller.

The wilderness is going fast,
Plagued with noise and human trash.
What option does a giant cryptid have?
Sasquatch has to find a job,
Become another working slob,
The man-beast of the woods has gone beyond!

If a Bigfoot leaves the forest 
And everyone’s there to see him,
Will the news-bites make a sound?
Will the cameras stick around?

Krampus Global, LLC was
A monstrous operation.
Far too big for one fell beast
To staff the celebration. 

He hired Bigfoot on the spot
For Krampusnacht parades.
The nine-foot brute that time forgot,
In a sneaky masquerade.

But the Skunk-Ape is a musky lad,
Unfit for human noses.
When he showed up, the people ran
To grab shampoo and hoses. 

And Wild Man though he might be,
His temperament is distinctly mild.
Bigfoot wouldn’t hurt a flea,
Much less bag a human child. 

If a Bigfoot leaves the forest 
And everyone’s there to see him,
Will the news-bites make a sound?
Will the cameras stick around?

A monster needs a certain flair,
Which our Yeti must be lacking.
The big ape had no wish to scare,
So Krampus sent him packing.

But fortune found the Hairy Man,
His new job befits his skills.
He leaves fake footprints in the wild,
And plays Bigfoot in films.

Through swamp oak, beech, and evergreen,
In sunlight or in fog,
The best Woodwose no one had seen
On hill or creek-y bog.

Bigfoot Troubles (Jamuary Bonus Track)

Songwriter, producer, keyboards, vocals, and sometimes guitar and bass. Member of Bah & the Humbugs. Songwriting teacher/coach. Composer of theme songs, musicals, film soundtracks, meditation music.