If it’s on a CD with other songs, include a note that highlights the song you think is the standout piece along with some details… like how it came about; what you like most about it; how your mother, who always shouts when she has the headphones on, says “I can’t understand any of the words!”  at the very part of the song you particularly wanted her to hear so she misses it every time; how you are only ever comfortable performing this song naked, in the desert, after three days of fasting and a new tattoo; how it reminds you of how immature your inner child is; how you burned the tofu meatloaf while you were writing it because you were so engrossed in the creative process you couldn’t hear the timer so you ended up having to borrow a couple of eggs from your neighbor and that’s how you met the love of your life about whom the song is not, but he/she inspired it just the same; how the lyrics came about as you were skydiving and your chute wasn’t deploying and you suddenly felt connected to everything all at once as you thought “Whoa! People DO look like ants from way up here!”; something; anything, really.  Be sure to send some contact info too.  Email… phone… MyFace (either one or both)…

If you send it, I will listen to it all the way through and pay attention to it while I do, too.   And let’s face it, in this day and age of short attention spans and a saturated market that’s not a bad offer.  

Here’s the address:

Local Sounds Magazine   c/o Wish I’d Written That

PO Box 7695

Madison, WI  53707

Some Songs Set Their Own Standards

To describe a song as “cool” is not the same as describing it as “good”.  There are plenty of “good” songs out there.  But a cool song rises above and sets itself apart from the collective “good”.  It doesn’t just highlight some elusive intangible.  It defines it.  And it’s often that very element that gives these cool gems life beyond their first fifteen minutes of fame. 

Cool songs are all atmosphere and panache, like Dick Dale’s 1962 cover of “Miserlou” (though this one has certainly suffered from over-exposure – and no amount of cool can save a song from the ravages of that effect).  And, while The Pixies created something cool on just about every song on their Dolittle album, “This Monkey’s Gone to Heaven” rises above the rest with its insistent drive and stunning lyrics.  David Byrne and Brian Eno put together a collection of cool in the early 80′s called My Life In the Bush of Ghosts.  And, though a lot of it sounds dated now, I found that particular album devastingly beautiful at the time.  While we’re on the subject of the 80′s, Laurie Anderson’s work with the Beat writer William S. Burroughs on “Sharkey’s Night” is still gripping and incredibly life-like. 

In recent years, a number of cool songs have slipped into the mainstream and, luckily, just past it.  Moby’s “Extreme Ways” (another song destined for over-exposure) has a techno-pop-groove that grabs the listener at the first screech and doesn’t let go until the after-thought guitar lick at the end; Modest Mouse’s “World At Large” has a vibe that is almost off-handed as it clips along unrelentingly to its morbid conclusion; Portishead’s “Nobody Loves Me” takes their electronic sound to a new level with a synthetic hammered dulcimer sound and a lyric that completes itself, nearly sotto voce, on the exhale; Amy Winehouse’s remix version of “I’m No Good” – the one with a guest appearance by Ghostface Killah – has Ghostface rapping a bridge part that tears the song apart and pushes it right past its own crescendo.  Come to think of it, it’s this bridge that makes this version such

Neko Case

a cool song; “Deep Red Bells” by Neko Case has Case singing the words of the title low and long and stripped to their essentials.  And then, as though that’s not enough, she asks “Does your soul cast about like an old paper bag?” and you realize how lucky you are to have heard this one; and The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army” with its single-minded catchy phrasing and near-avoidance of a chorus (this one may have already crossed the over-exposure line.  It certainly has been walking a mainstream path for some time) are just a few that I still have in my iTunes rotation and that have that certain je nais se quoi that is at the very heart of cool. 

Michael Reisenhauer

Here is a local artist with a recent release who has managed to place himself squarely in the category of cool as well:

Reisenauer is the frontman for Madison’s Pale Young Gentlemen.  They have released two recordings in the past three years.  Last year’s Black Forest (Tra La La) was recorded at Madison’s Science of Sound studios.  The stand-out piece on this CD is “The Crook Of My Good Arm”, a recording that is every bit as good as anything I’ve heard in recent years. The song opens with a rhythmic, moving cello/bass line that sets the stage for Reisenauer’s exceptional lyrics and his dry delivery: 

You start to worry about your health / As you reach a certain age /

So in a careful tongue / I have chosen one /

That I believe is safe / In the crook of my good arm

And with the completion of the title phrase in the lyrics, the strings come back in and the instrumentation takes off, drops off slightly for his next verse, then stays right there with him as he delivers the energy-packed chorus:

Run, run through the thicket and the barley /

Run, run for the sake of your good name /

Run, run for the puzzle of it all /

For the child in your heart /

That’s taking all the blame

Reisenauer delivers the third verse and then moves slightly left for a brief instrumental break.  He never leaves the instruments on their own though, as he yelps and shouts on the accents as though he is hearing it all for the first time and can’t quite contain himself.  It’s a perfect delivery and is one of several elements that push this song right over the edge for me. 

“It’s about someone on the verge of who knows. The main character is flawed, and perceives himself as so,” Reisenauer told me.  For me, in this case, it really doesn’t matter what it’s about – it’s just such a joy to listen to.  Charlie Mingus once said “In my music I’m trying to play the truth of what I am.”  If this song is the truth of what Michael Reisenauer is, Madison is lucky to have him and his Pale Young Gentlemen. 

You can find the Pale Young Gentlemen here: www.paleyounggentlemen.com. 

Send me your songs

If you have something you want featured here, send it in.  I listen to everything I get, and I’m looking for local music, in particular. 

If it’s on a CD with other songs, include a note that highlights the song you think is the standout piece along with some details… like how it came about; what you like most about it; what it means to your dog/cat/significant other; how you feel as though you’re diving headfirst through your guitar and into your own navel every time you sing it; how it fills your head with rainbows and unicorns – even when you’re sober; how you got the idea for the lyrics from a scrap of paper you found in a trainyard as you were hitch-hiking through Bozeman, Montana on your way home after being fired from your job as camp cook because you weren’t a coffee drinker and couldn’t tell a decent cup of coffee from mud and how it brings that painful memory up but that you sing it anyway even though you nearly burst into tears every time you do; anything, really… If you send it, I will listen to it all the way through and pay attention to it while I do, too.   And let’s face it, in this day and age of short attention spans and a saturated market that’s still not a bad offer.  

Here’s the address:

Local Sounds Magazine   

c/o Wish I’d Written That

PO Box 7695

Madison, WI  53707

The Shortest Distance From A Point To A Line

Ask any songwriter and you will learn that most songs are not written the way they are ultimately performed.  Oftentimes the verses are constructed before the chorus, or vice versa.  Sometimes a musical hook comes first around which the lyrics are laid out.  Other times the lyrics are written then wrapped in a melody later. 

Songwriting like so many art forms is a typically non-linear process.  And yet, regardless of how they are put together, so many songs end up as straight-ahead start-to-finish narratives.  Nonetheless, there are plenty of songs with lyrics that don’t follow a linear storyline.  As a matter of fact, many songs don’t have any story at all.  Instead, they are lyrical impressions or emotions or abstractions without much, if any, concrete reference. The Talking Heads typically wrote songs that fell into this category of abstract, near-inscrutability. Laurie Anderson’s early albums did as well.  Neil Young still writes like this fairly regularly as do Bjork and Beck both.  Lupe Fiasco, as is the case with many hip hip artists, includes long passages of almost-scat vocals where the words roll out playfully as they work through a rhythm or a rhyme until the song rounds a corner and comes back to the storyline – if there is one.

The White Stripes have a song on their 2003 release, Elephant, called “You’ve Got Her In Your Pocket” that seems as though the verses are completely out of order.  When rearranged, they seem to follow each other more sequentially – but that is really a different issue and fodder for another column.  Needless to say, there are lots of ways to structure the lyrical content of a song. 

Regardless of how it’s done though, the freedoms that the songwriter gains by avoiding the narrative of the three-act play should not be taken at the expense of the listener.  The listener still wants the pay-off of being able to follow the piece from start to finish and have some commitment to the song’s resolution.  The songwriter, for his or her part, is best off not overindulging to the point where the purpose of the song is lost entirely to all but the composer.  The Beatles’ ‘Revolution 9′ fits squarely into this category – though that implies that it even qualifies as a song.  It seems to me that songs that are most successful in employing this non-linear lyrical approach are those that allow the listener room simultaneously to find meaning in the lyrics and spirit in the tune.

Beck once said, “Set your guitars and banjos on fire and before you write a song smoke a pack of whiskey and it`ll all take care of itself.”   Good advice.  And, with that, here are a few local artists who have put together pieces that are mostly lyrical impressions and abstractions; that bring the listener along each and every time; that aren’t over-indulgent; and that are particularly good songs.

Amy Curl

Song Title: “In The Grass”

 

 

Words and Music: Amy Curl, Dan Kennedy, Sean Michael Dargan, Michael Brenneis

This almost meditative piece is on the recently released Curl/Kennedy EP entitled Sharing A Head.  It starts out with a slow, intro with bass, piano and cymbals laying the groundwork for Curl’s vocals to come in over the top of it all with the song’s iterative refrain.

My baby lying in the grass across the sea / Trace a straight path on the map/ To his body

These few lines are repeated over and over as the song rolls out.  The instrumentation lays back to let the lyrics define the song’s structure, to set the tone, and to create the backdrop against which Curl can delve for meaning in the vocals.  And that seems to be just what happens because, about halfway through, Curl begins to sound as though she is hearing some of this for the first time as she explores new direction in the melody.  She stretches out a bit as she repeats the lines and adds nuance and inflection towards the end of the phrases as the piece comes to a close.  But just before it does, Curl steps back and let’s Dan Kennedy’s guitar do all the talking. 

Kennedy lays down a gutsy electric guitar lead that is as airy as it is dense.  It’s tasteful, energetic, and soulful.  I’ve seen Kennedy play. He seems mindful always of leaving plenty of space in his phrasing and never overwhelms whatever piece he is trying to support.  This particular guitar break is Kennedy at his best.  He pushes “In The Grass” to its logical crescendo then pulls it right back from the edge and hands it back over to Curl to wrap it up. 

When I asked about the song, Kennedy told me, “Amy wrote this one looking out at the North Atlantic from a piano bench in an 800-year-old Abby on the isle of Iona in Scotland”.  This shifted my perspective completely.  I imagined the song to be about a sweetheart who was traveling abroad, or someone who had moved back to his native country. Instead, it’s the author who is displaced – and maybe even a little homesick. 

“It was a lot of fun to record and is my personal favorite on the disc”, Kennedy said.  Mine too.  You can find Amy Curl and Dan Kennedy here: www.curlkennedy.com

Song Title: “Take Me To The River”

Words and Music: Doc Roddy

The Roddy’s second, and most recent CD, was called A Night Of Deep Nostalgia.  This 1999 recording included a song called “Take Me To The River”, which, when I first came across it, I assumed was just another cover of the popular Al Green song.  It was a delightful surprise to learn otherwise.  This original song is a fun, sprightly little number with a roots-y backbone and a calypso feel.  Perhaps because of all the history of the more famous song, Doc Roddy likes it by another name: “‘Wash My Soul’ is the title I prefer”, he told me. 

Its spare, all-rhythm-section instrumentation spreads out nicely behind Doc and Terre Roddy’s vocals.  There’s no story here for the listener to hang on to.  It’s all impression and repetition of the title line similar to so many songs with this type of folk pedigree (think “Iko Iko” or “Mary Mack”):

Take me to the river/ Take me to the river/ Take me to the river/ Take me to the river/ Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/Wash my soul

Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/ Wash my soul

When the lion get hungry/ And he got to eat/ When the lion get hungry/ And he got to eat/ Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/ Wash my soul

Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/ Wash my soul

My favorite verse comes at the end.  I’m not sure what I like so much about this one in particular, but I look forward to it each time.  I think it’s a combination of the image of a night in New York; a vision of the City’s famous bridge lit up like an aging monument; and the way The Roddy’s deliver it: 

Don’t the light look pretty on the Brooklyn Bridge/ Don’t the light look pretty on the Brooklyn Bridge/ Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/ Wash my soul

Gonna wash my soul in the depths of the water/ Wash my soul

There’s no tale in these lyrics.  No start and no end… and there doesn’t need to be.  It’s a just a great song with a World Music sensibility and a couple of fun hooks that make repeat listenings welcome and easy.  “Maybe we should record it again.” Doc Roddy told me. 

You may hear this song on the radio, for as Roddy said, “The last time I heard “Take me to the River/ Wash my Soul” was on Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now!” If not, you can find the Roddys here:  www.theroddys.net. 

Send me your songs

If you are a local songwriter, have set your own instruments on fire in the creative process (figuratively or otherwise), and have a song that you think deserves to be in someone’s (or everyone’s) permanent iTunes rotation.  Send it to me.

If it’s on a CD with other songs, include a note that highlights the song you think is the standout piece along with some details… like how it came about; what you like most about it; how your mother, who always shouts when she has the headphones on, says “I can’t understand any of the words!”  at the very part of the song you particularly wanted her to hear so she misses it every time; how you are only ever comfortable performing this song naked, in the desert, after three days of fasting and a new tattoo; how it reminds you of how immature your inner child is; how you burned the tofu meatloaf while you were writing it because you were so engrossed in the creative process you couldn’t hear the timer so you ended up having to borrow a couple of eggs from your neighbor and that’s how you met the love of your life about whom the song is not, but he/she inspired it just the same; how the lyrics came about as you were skydiving and your chute wasn’t deploying and you suddenly felt connected to everything all at once as you thought “Whoa! People DO look like ants from way up here!”; something; anything, really.  Be sure to send some contact info too.  Email… phone… MyFace (either one or both)…

If you send it, I will listen to it all the way through and pay attention to it while I do, too.   And let’s face it, in this day and age of short attention spans and a saturated market that’s not a bad offer.  

Here’s the address:

Local Sounds Magazine   c/o Wish I’d Written That

PO Box 7695

Madison, WI  53707

Song lyrics don’t have to be overly clever to grab my attention.  On the contrary, a song that tries too hard is often simply too much work to listen to. 

Taylor Swift, for example, has a song on the pop charts currently called “Love Story”.  It’s a catchy, high school-themed song with a pseudo-literary Romeo and Juliet metaphor going on.  She maintains this theme throughout too until she sings,  “‘Cause you were a Romeo, I was a scarlet letter”.  Of course, The Scarlet Letter is a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel about a woman who has a child out of wedlock and is marked by her town as an adulterer.  Yeah, she lost me there, too.  I assume she is trying too hard to show how smart and clever she is.  As a result, I just can’t get through it. 

I heard a songwriter introduce a song from the stage once by saying “I wrote this song with my thesaurus”.  Unfortunately, it sounded like it too.  Clever word choices are only clever when they don’t draw attention to their own cleverness.  For me, a good song has a good lyric that wraps the narrative together in a parallel melody and brings the listener along each time it’s played.  After all, there is no point in putting a song into your iTunes collection if you’re not interested in hearing it again and again. 

Here are some local artists who have put together some pieces that don’t try too hard; that don’t strive to be all things to all people; that aren’t weighed down by self-conscious cleverness; and that breathe with an honesty that is evident on each re-play:

Song Title: “Long Beach Birthday Blues”

Words and Music: Jeff Hickey

Last month, on July 14th, Jeff Hickey passed away due to complications following a car accident.  Though I’d met him several times, I didn’t know Jeff well.  He was a volunteer engineer at Madison’s community radio station, WORT, and I’d listened to him off and on for years.  The first time I met him, I was doing some live, shameless-self-promotional event or other and he was behind the console putting it out on the air.  I remember thinking he looked exactly like he sounded.  Not that I had pictured him looking like he did, but that he just looked like himself.  I can’t explain it.  As I was leaving that day, he handed me a copy of his CD, Loose Ends.  It won a Madison Area Music Award for Best Acoustic Album in 2004. 

Loose Ends is a gem.  Jeff’s voice is resonant and beautiful and his guitar playing is superb, skillful and interesting.  The stand-out piece for me on this collection is “Long Beach Birthday Blues”.  It’s a traveler’s tale told from the perspective of someone who is down on his luck and trying to make the best of it.  This is not just any traveler though; this is Jeff himself with all the easy honesty of a good songwriter coming through.  In this song, Hickey tells about a hinge day – a day when one phase of his life ends and another begins.  It’s his birthday and he’s trying to put a good face on his unsettled disquiet as he walks through the airport killing time.  And as he does so, he frames where he’s been and where he’s going within the context of the flight and the terminal. 

But the ticket girl smiles like she means it / Gives me free drink coupons for the flight / I’ve got a pretty friend waiting at the other end / If I didn’t feel so bad I’d feel alright

It’s easy to picture Jeff walking about, drinking at the bar, looking out the window, and sensing that traveler disconnect when he knows that where he stands is all journey and no destination: 

Dawn turns into daylight; nice again today / Not too hard to see why people move here / Maybe I will someday. It won’t be someday soon / All my chips are on the cards I’m holding

He moves from here to a brief conversation with someone at the bar.  It’s all small talk and it really doesn’t matter if it’s Hickey speaking or the stranger.  But there’s an almost sad superficiality left behind with this short exchange that puts a lonely stamp on the events of the trip.  

Good old boy drinking at the counter / “I’m headed for Chicago how about you?” / “It’ll be cold up there” / “Yeah no doubt” / “Say, did you hear the one about..?” / “So long have a good one” / “Yeah you too”

What makes this so real for me is that I have had similar short bursts of conversation with Jeff.  He always seemed to be an outgoing stranger who liked to talk, which made radio seem like such good fit. 

Hickey wraps up the song neatly by making the entire trip; the airport; the jetliner; the bar; the drink coupons; and all the strangers a metaphor for life.  It’s a simple idea and he ties all the elements of the song together with this simple coda. 

In the liner notes, Hickey refers to this as “a naval-gazing song”.  I agree that it’s introspective, but it’s not so much self-absorbed as it is self-reflective.  I get a clear picture of this “everyman” every time I hear this song and I like him.  Now that Jeff’s gone, I miss him too. 

Jeff’s CD can be ordered from the Third Hand Capo Company’s website, http://thirdhandcapo.com.  Proceeds of the sales go to Jeff’s family.  Order a copy now.  There may not be many left by the time you get there. 

On Sunday, August 23 from 12:00 pm to 6:00 pm, there will be a benefit concert at the High Noon Saloon featuring many different musical guests including Moonhouse (co-founded by Jeff Hickey and Blackhawk), Bill and Bobbie Malone, and  Harvey Reid.  All proceeds go to Jeff’s wife and children

Song Title: Drop Of A Hat

Words and Music: Dale Kidd and Aaron Nathans

I first heard this song when it was brand new.  I was sitting on my front porch with my guitar one day and Dale Kidd stopped by with Cosmo, his dog.  Dale took the guitar.  I took the leash.  And he ran through an early version of the song, occasionally interjecting narrative critique on the parts that he and Aaron planned still to smooth out or smooth over.  I liked it right away.  I’ve heard him do this several times since, last time with his new band, The Hang Loueys, on a Madtoast Live podcast (http://www.madtoastlive.com).  As his bandmate, Andrew Nath says, “It’s just a sweet, sweet song”.

The song is about love and coincidence and dreams and how they seem constantly to be bouncing off each other and coming together at the same time.  According to Dale, this was truly a collaborative work with Aaron Nathans.  “It’s a special song to both of us that just came from somewhere” he said.  “I had the music down and was just playing it for Aaron and he said that song is called ‘Drop of a Hat’.  It’s a total co-write.”

This bouncy, fun song is about Mr. Callahan, his wife, Mrs. Callahan, and their dog Jack.  Of course, I can’t listen to this without putting Dale himself in the middle of the narrative because I’ve seen him doing all these same things that he describes Mr. Callahan doing:

Mister Callahan likes to walk his dog / At the end of the day / By the edge of the dam / Hydropower roars as the people snore / And the salmon soar / In an opposite way

It’s the perfect setup.  After watching Mr. Callahan wordlessly and quietly walking his dog, you then get an idea of what he’s thinking about out there on the edge of the dam. 

Mr. Callahan has a secret plan / To be his own man  / In a couple of years / Going to quit that job and buy that hog / Put his wife on the back / Sidecar for the dog

I know Dale well enough to know that he harbors dreams like this himself.  I don’t know about the Harley… but he always has some project or other going.  He seems constantly to be seeking out and finding like-minded musicians with whom he can play and write.  And he is always finding some new equipment or guitar style or songwriter that inspires him. 

After we learn about Mr. Callahan, we are introduced to Mrs. Callahan who seems not unlike her husband with her quiet, simple dreams:

Mrs. Callahan never speaks her mind / Keeps things inside / But she’s thinking all day / About that new motor home that she saw on TV / That was really fixed up / Nice bed for the pup

And, of course, it works out for all three in the end:

See the Callahans and their dog Jack / In their new motor home  / Scooter tied on the back.

I love how Mrs. Callahans motor home dreams all come true, while Mr. Callahan’s Harley dreams are reduced to a scooter.  There is something poignant about it.  I like to think that Mr. Callahan is secretly satisfied with the scooter.  I think the Harley might have been too much for him – and he knows it. 

At the end, Andrew Nath’s comment about this being a “sweet, sweet song” is brought home:

Running down that road life can be so sweet / When the one that you love  / Doesn’t have to compete / And isn’t life sweet

It’s a nice sentiment – the Callahans as road warriors.  As I listen to it, I imagine Dale and his wife, Jean, and dog, Cosmo pulling up in front of the house in a motor home some day looking just like them.

You can find Dale and the Hang Loueys somewhere on the internet, though where is anyone’s guess.  As Dale says, “Hey we may have a My Space deal but I don’t know how to find it.  Andy said he was working on something.”

When asked to comment on Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, Truman Capote said “That’s not writing at all.  That’s typing”.  It’s a deliciously nasty and succinctly poetic condemnation of the Beat’s popular book.  As a song junkie, I’m reminded of that critique frequently as I scan the commercial airwaves in search of something to scratch my musical itch.  I’ve worn out the decals on the presets of yet another car radio from all my desperate button pushing as I jump from one station to the next.  Let’s face it, there’s a lot of not-very-well-written junk out there on mainstream radio.  It’s why I spend so much time on WORT (89.9 FM) or WSUM (91.7 FM).  They are not driven by “the star maker machinery” and are kind to their listeners by playing a substantial amount of local music.

Two-term US Poet Laureate Ted Kooser once said “If poetry were worth a lot of money, we would spoil it and would be driven by that, I think.  Since it’s worth nothing it can be purer.” (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4965544).  I wish that were true of songwriting.  A simple search of the FM dial says otherwise.  For that matter, a simple search of the Internet results in any number of on-line A&R companies, songwriting contests, and how-to sites aimed at helping songwriters develop their craft so they too can sound just like the hit makers.  Thankfully, though, a simple search of the local music scene finds songwriters who are putting out good songs regardless of all that million-dollar pressure.  Here are a few road trip-themed songs by a few locals that stand out for me.

Song Title: “Miss Marion”

Words and Music by Adrienne Cole

Dear August has been kicking its Alt-Country/Americana sound around Southern Wisconsin for several years.  Fronted by Adrienne Cole, the band was originally called Box Elder.  In 2005, Box Elder self-produced a CD called Come Visit Soon. The standout piece on this CD is a Cole song called “Miss Marion”, a road trip number that pulls several interesting songcraft elements together.  On-line reviewers of Dear August frequently point to Cole’s voice as the driving force behind the band and she puts it to remarkably gritty and convincing use here as she describes the “shoebox” motel room; the tired night clerk, Miss Marion; and the unsettling, noisy neighborhood just outside the door:

Paper sheets and diesel creeps  / You hear their engines brakin’ mean / Pray that they’re not stayin’ tonight

She’s drawn a spot-on picture of the vulnerable traveler unnerved by the unknown.  But wrapped within all these lovely details is an unforgettable hook that is pure poetry.  In near-staccato delivery that pushes the rhythm of the song right to the edge of the knife Cole sings:

Her face is hot. Her eyes are tired / I’m bettin that this place is wired / This city smells like gasoline 

I love how she jumps on the phrase ‘smells like gasoline’ like she’s reliving the whole night’s experience in that easy alliteration.  It’s a great line and she pays it the respect it deserves.  I’ve had this song in iTunes rotation for a while now.

You can find Dear August’s self-described “Country confused folk rock” here:  http://www.dearaugust.com.

Song Title:  “90 Miles Away”

Words and Music: Tate McClane

Tate McLane has been playing throughout Southern Wisconsin for several years.  I first saw him at the now-shuttered Liquid Lyrics Lounge fronting a band called Fluke.  In 2004, he and some Fluke members got together with Adam Gregory Pergament currently of Venice Gas House Trolley to form Stonefloat.  Stonefloat managed to put together several edgy, loud, and interesting song projects before they split up in 2006.

It was when he was with Fluke that I first saw McLane perform a song called “90 Miles Away”.  I’ve seen him do it several times solo, in a trio format, and with the full Stonefloat band.  It’s a clever, looping road trip song where the protagonist drives 90 miles to see his girlfriend, finds her with someone else, and turns around and drives the 90 miles back home.  This song is all McLane.  He delivers it like he lived it – and, as it turns out, he did.  “This really happened to me!” he told me one night after a show.  It’s personal, gutsy, and framed tightly within a chord structure that drones like the hum of the highway.  He and I and several others traded songs once in an effort to cover each other.  As a result, I tried to work up an arrangement of this song, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

Somewhere on I-80 I hit a speed trap / The pedal hit the floor as I hid my stash / I blew through MadTown at a quarter past (one) 

I wasn’t nearly as convincing as McLane is at recounting flying down the highway smoking pot, ducking under the radar, peering into windows, and tearing off in a jilted huff.  He, on the other hand, takes the listener on a daredevil’s ride. Then, with total disregard for the fact that he’s just driven all this way to find out his girlfriend’s cheating on him, he kisses it all off with this:

Soon I’ll be 90 miles away / I’ve got another woman up there anyway

And though I know it’s coming, I always chuckle.  He’s that convincing.

You can find Tate McLane here:  http://www.myspace.com/tatemclane

Song Title: “Love in Three-Quarter Time”

Words and Music by Bobbie and Bill Malone

Bill Malone hosts the Wednesday morning Back To The Country radio program on Madison’s WORT (89.9 FM).  He’s a transplanted southerner who is a renowned historian of country music and married to the delightful Bobbie Malone.  I’ve seen them perform a few times and they are as authentic and honest and charming a country/bluegrass duo as you’ll ever see.  Bill is tall and square-jawed; broad-shouldered and stoic behind his yellowing, dog-eared Martin guitar.  He is a mountain of constancy as he plays solid rhythm beside the diminutive Bobbie’s chirpy mandolin.

Bobbie tells the story of the song’s genesis: “Bill and I were traveling to New Orleans from a visit to Texas, and I was sort of napping when Bill shared his insight about The Tennessee Waltz and a sad Ricky Skaggs song that was on the tape.”  Bill, evidently, would often put together compilation tapes for these long drives.  His insight that night was that a lot of hearts have been broken in waltz time.

How often mistreated, how soon left behind, / How quickly forgotten / In three-quarter time?

But it’s herself Bobbie sings of as she recalls her own loves and losses over the years.

Remembering false loves / Buried deep in the past, / Recalling those partings, / The pain comes to mind

Then she wraps it up with how lucky she is now that all of that is behind her and she is driving down this road on this night with her sweetheart.

How often he holds me, / And fills heart and mind; / True love’s healing memories— / Those lost in waltz time

I heard the two of them play this at a small gathering of songwriters and players on Madison’s east side one night a couple of months ago.  They sucked me right in and it was the highlight of the night.

I remember thinking that this song seemed to have it all.  It had the clever country title, the waltz-time hook, the pretty melody, the well-turned harmonies, and a nifty story to boot.  But it had the two of them, as well, living the ending of the tale and letting it roll out in three-quarter time.  “I started to think of the song as a joke”, Bobbie told me, “But then it turned out to be an original.”  Maybe it’s that touch of whimsy coupled with the Malones’ fine delivery that makes this song so memorable.  Whatever it is, I wish I had a recording of it.

You can’t find Bobbie and Bill Malone on their own website yet.  They’re still working on it.  But don’t worry; they are so much a part of the Madison music scene that you’ll run into them eventually.