TomFlannery.com

I split the difference and cut two demo versions. One quiet and one loud.

Our Only Chance (Is That You Feel the Same) (quiet)

Our Only Chance (Is That You Feel the Same) (loud)

Who the hell can tell about such things? They both could suck. That would certainly make the ultimate decision easier.

In a bit…

–tf

Had my 7 year old with me last night….heading to the bookstore. Decided to put the “American Idiot” record on. Hey, she likes to rock sometimes too.

Them I remembered Billy Joe’s propensity for dropping F-bombs. So I figured, being a good Dad and all that, that I’d cough over each one, drowning it out. After a few minutes the car sounded like a tuberculosis ward and my girl was fearing for my health.

Ah, rock and roll eh? Nobody said it’d be easy.

Which leads me to my own record, which as I look back on the completed demos thus far, will apparently contain it’s own share of secular profanity sprinkled liberally throughout the grooves. Hmmm….

To cough, or be clean?

‘Tis the question.

In a bit….

–tf

Ok, maybe I need to sleep on it again….

In a bit…

–tf

It’s called “Our Only Chance (Is That You Feel the Same)” and it’s done. Lyric and melody is set. What I’m wrestling with is the arrangement. It lends itself to balladry, but I’m not in that kind of mood lately. So I’m fighting it. It may end up a losing battle.

Need to sleep on it.

Anyway, here’s the lyrics…

Our Only Chance
(Is That You Feel the Same)
by Tom Flannery
copyright 2009

The middle of the bed
is still cool to the touch
different shifts different rooms
means nothing’s changed that much
a destination’s helpful
but need not get in the way
when the screen door beckons
with nothing left to say

Time passes slowly
like a crack in the floor
faces put back together
behind a bedroom door
sun shines on everyone
there’s no place you can hide
the sun’s a bitch that way
it waits for us outside

After years of open warfare
there’s no one left to blame
our only chance is that you feel the same

Eighteen can’t last forever
but age soon learns to stay
and with it’s nasty habit
of getting it’s own way
we’ve prayed to the heavens
and dug our way to hell
but like the eyes of a child
only time will tell

After years of open warfare
there’s no one left to blame
our only chance is that you feel the same

Jesus. What a lazy sod. Other than working, which can’t be avoided (believe me, I’ve tried), I’ve done nothing but scribble in my handwritten journal all day with an assortment of pens that keep running out of ink. I’ve also considered how I could afford to buy a house in the woods surrounded by a moat and snipers (my dream) if I could only write something as popular as Green Day’s “Time of Your Life”. My nephew called me from the road today…on his way to Madison Square Garden to see Billy Joe and the gang, and that got me thinking this way. Writing songs about ex girlfriend’s and having 20,000 people sing along with you every night is probably a pretty cool feeling. Not that I’d know, having never written a song about an ex (or having 20,000 people sing along with me, for that matter). Maybe Billy Joe is onto something here….

Hmmm….

Still, a pretty fucking good song though. I suppose that helps too. See, there’s always a catch.

Anyway, perhaps it’s time to write a song about an ex. But which one? I’ve been tossed overboard more than a few times. I suspect I could write something like “Sandinista” and not repeat myself.

Anyway….onward and all that.

In a bit…

–tf

Blocked at the moment. I knew this would happen. With so many distractions, I can’t even start to build the wall I need around me to write. Forget writing itself.

First thing you need to do when writing is to empty your head. In my case that’s not too hard, as there’s not much in there to begin with. But it requires a bit of concentration anyway….or at least a few minutes without the fucking phone ringing. Once emptied, I can create something new. It might suck of course, but it least it’ll be something new. Ah well, another day perhaps.

Went to see Scranton Public Theatre’s production of “Talley’s Folly” tonight. Brilliant. My good friend Sam Falbo was every bit as good as Judd Hirsch, and I’d stand on any bar in New York to proclaim that.

Makes me want to write again is what it does.

In a bit…

–tf

Had all kinds of ideas and plans today. What I’d forgotten was that I’d have zero time to work on any of them. So they festered. And when I awake tomorrow I’m fairly sure I won’t remember a bloody thing. I was thinking on working up some lyrics tonight, but last night I got knee-deep into a book about Leopold and Loeb and feel the urge to finish it during tonight’s wee wee hours. Leopold and Loeb. There’s ‘s a couple of fucking nutters for you.  It’s a wonder I can sleep at all.

New plan is to record 15 demos and choose 10 songs for the record. We shall see. Twenty would be better….wouldn’t it? So says the man bitching about no time.

The difference between me now and then, of course, is that in the past I’d finish the book and then write a 16 turgid-verse song about Leopold and Loeb and what it all means. At this point in my existence, I’ll leave that to others and listen to Cheap Trick instead. “Downed” is way fucking cooler.

In a bit…

–tf

Recorded a ridiculous demo last night called “Rock Record”. Sample lyric….

Don’t make no difference if I can’t hold on
wanna find a groove like a hippie finds a bong
ride that wave till I hit my head
then instruct my agent to say that I’m dead

Ah….youth is wasted on the young and dumb. Perhaps this can be the now de rigueur “hidden track”.

Must write more. As Van Morrison once said, “It’s too late to stop now”. He used to be a rock star.

In a bit…

–tf

It actually sounds more like a desperate-to-be-younger middle-aged folkie after inhaling a decent supply of helium. It’s rough as hell, but still, I can hear the band hauling off and using it to hit someone. A little less decorum than usual is what I’m shooting for as you know, so I can get into this a bit….

Give a listen..

State of the Union
by Tom Flannery
copyright 2009

Re-vamping the song “State of the Union”. Even though I hate it now, something is telling me that if I come up with a totally different melody I may not hate it quite as much later. It needs to be way way louder and more rough around the edges. Best bet is to make it sound like the Clash. When in doubt, making a song sound like it came from the Clash’s first record is always a good thing.

Of course, not being Joe Strummer or Mick Jones hurts a bit, but why quibble over things I have no control over?

In a bit…

tf