Yes I am still alive
Just haven't been here in a while...work and more work. Which is good, but it does mean I don't really have a life.
However, earlier this week I did get to the Duende feature at Out of the Blue in Cambridge, which RAWXORD. srsly. But the dude introducing them kept referring to Faro as a "bass-ist", pronounced like the fish.
I wrote this in reaction - NOTE: since this is a written version of an aural riff, BASS is the instrument, bass is the fish. (and I still have no title for it....suggestions welcome)
****************************************
While I didn't mis-read
I did mis-speak
When I introduced the new BASS player comin' to the stage
Cuz that cat got up and played a bass, brother
So the man starts with simple thumps
A sideshow novelty of tappin' out Injun War Beats
And we all think of steppin' out for a smoke
But he adds in more, rakin' fins like washboards
Slappin' gills like hoof-blocks
Makin' rhythms like the jungle in the rain
Like the waves on Delta beaches
I swear he put my own heart-beat in there once
And he builds a one-bass band
Pluckin' up scales an' pullin' down notes
Quotin' Carmichael and Charles
He pulls out tiny mallets an' zings them scales like Lionel
A one-man two-hand four-stick ichthyophone!
He's been hummin' an' skattin' like Prima
But he pauses while he pulls them fish lips up to his own,
Squeezes gills an' pushes the flanks
Til SachMo and Dizzy start dancin' on their own graves
And still his sleeves are full of tricks
Tuckin' in barbs around that big bass mouth
Tyin' down lines from tip to tail
An' he bows the thing like the man what beat that Georgia Devil
He slides it like Hawaiin steel
Lightning plucks like Dale
And finally plays the big bass-BASS
"Is you is..." he asks us all
And none of us can catch our breath to sing
For all the laughin', cheers, an' yells
I never knew no cold fish could make such music
Not even Ol' Ma McQueen,
But that's a story belongs in another kettle
He took a bow, and took his bass
And didn't even pause to collect the drinks and bills we proffered in thanks
We didn't see nor hear him again
But every time now I see some notice of a new player come to town
Someone plays the BASS like you ain't never heard
I wonder as a wander toward the gig
If maybe my eyes could mis-pronounce him again.
**************************************************
Your quote of the day, from my current production:
FRANCESCINA: Introduce him to your neighbor! [pause] Brown-eyed Bertha. [pause] The Greek. [pause] Oh, for heaven's sake girl...if at your Gates of Venus, some young man should come a-banging, take him firmly in the dark, and guide him up the stairs in back. Brown-eyed Bertha there will wink to him, and take him in instead.
FLAMINIA: You mean?!?!
FRANCESCINA: Only make sure that she's washed first, or you'll be in for quite a stink! What? She's just as good as in the front, he'll never know the difference.
However, earlier this week I did get to the Duende feature at Out of the Blue in Cambridge, which RAWXORD. srsly. But the dude introducing them kept referring to Faro as a "bass-ist", pronounced like the fish.
I wrote this in reaction - NOTE: since this is a written version of an aural riff, BASS is the instrument, bass is the fish. (and I still have no title for it....suggestions welcome)
****************************************
While I didn't mis-read
I did mis-speak
When I introduced the new BASS player comin' to the stage
Cuz that cat got up and played a bass, brother
So the man starts with simple thumps
A sideshow novelty of tappin' out Injun War Beats
And we all think of steppin' out for a smoke
But he adds in more, rakin' fins like washboards
Slappin' gills like hoof-blocks
Makin' rhythms like the jungle in the rain
Like the waves on Delta beaches
I swear he put my own heart-beat in there once
And he builds a one-bass band
Pluckin' up scales an' pullin' down notes
Quotin' Carmichael and Charles
He pulls out tiny mallets an' zings them scales like Lionel
A one-man two-hand four-stick ichthyophone!
He's been hummin' an' skattin' like Prima
But he pauses while he pulls them fish lips up to his own,
Squeezes gills an' pushes the flanks
Til SachMo and Dizzy start dancin' on their own graves
And still his sleeves are full of tricks
Tuckin' in barbs around that big bass mouth
Tyin' down lines from tip to tail
An' he bows the thing like the man what beat that Georgia Devil
He slides it like Hawaiin steel
Lightning plucks like Dale
And finally plays the big bass-BASS
"Is you is..." he asks us all
And none of us can catch our breath to sing
For all the laughin', cheers, an' yells
I never knew no cold fish could make such music
Not even Ol' Ma McQueen,
But that's a story belongs in another kettle
He took a bow, and took his bass
And didn't even pause to collect the drinks and bills we proffered in thanks
We didn't see nor hear him again
But every time now I see some notice of a new player come to town
Someone plays the BASS like you ain't never heard
I wonder as a wander toward the gig
If maybe my eyes could mis-pronounce him again.
**************************************************
Your quote of the day, from my current production:
FRANCESCINA: Introduce him to your neighbor! [pause] Brown-eyed Bertha. [pause] The Greek. [pause] Oh, for heaven's sake girl...if at your Gates of Venus, some young man should come a-banging, take him firmly in the dark, and guide him up the stairs in back. Brown-eyed Bertha there will wink to him, and take him in instead.
FLAMINIA: You mean?!?!
FRANCESCINA: Only make sure that she's washed first, or you'll be in for quite a stink! What? She's just as good as in the front, he'll never know the difference.