For the first time in a very long time, I've sat down, picked up a guitar and written a song. I'm not sure what to blame it on. Perhaps a reduction in some of my medications ... More likely the gig I attended Saturday night at Ding Dong. I really enjoyed the simple, straight ahead style of SK and Ricky Maymi from the Brian Jonestown Massacre. And this after spending ninety minutes entirely inert on stage imitating a corpse in a show called The Real Inspector Hound. (I suffered some exquisite torture during that seemingly endless play, and learned some very dark secrets about myself.)
Since the Crystal Ballroom show, The Ears have been rehearsing fortnightly at our drummer Carl's place, and enjoying it mightily - though I expect we'd get more achieved if alcohol consumption levels were reduced just a tad.
We're generating new songs too. About four or five since our recohesion. I was a little leery about this at first, thinking of the Ears as some ancient artefact which audiences wouldn't want to see change. But I've altered my thinking. Against the odds we've become a living band again, and living bands produce new material. Also, in these latter days, wonderfully, it doesn't seem to matter what inestimable age you might reach - you just keep going till you drop.
So about this song I've written. Those creatures of the upper air, who pass through my dreams, leaving clues for plots and dialogue and melodies, have intimated strongly that its title should be Basking Shark ...
We'll breed a Basking Shark for you.
A last! A Basking Shark for you
I do worry that it might seem obscure, inaccessible, even meaningless. I know I have a tendency to alienate potential listeners, readers, what have you, with my love for the arcane, but trust me, I have integrated the basking shark into the lyrics in a way that makes good and proper sense, that may even, ultimately, tug on your heart strings.
Anyway here's a photo of Donald, Nurin and I at Ding Dong last Saturday night