Title Song from the new CD

My name be Blue


Live by myself, near New Orleans, I like the music and the Gumbo too.
It’s raining hard, it’s been a long day, I’m kind of hungry in that Bayou way.
Get in my car, drive to the store, I need file for my shrimp etouffee.
It’s pouring down, Louisiana style; I strain my eyes just to see the line.
I see a girl, standing in the rain, water's dripping from her hair.
I stop the car ,right by her side, open the door and say come inside.
"I’ll give you a ride, so you can get dry, wont you just come inside? "
She has a smile, she has wistful eyes, shakes her hair, water's flying through the air,
She holds up a flower, all wilted and dead ,and this is what she says:
My name be Blue and I tell you true
I don’t need no ride
I don’t need to get dry
But you had better run and hide
There’s trouble brewing for you
My name be Blue and I tell you true
The other side is waiting for you.
I look at her thinking, what a fool, but she keeps on speaking, very softly too .
"A strange man, he be looking for you, he’s dressed in black and his eyes are red.
He wears a feather, right through his head, where he walks, the grass is all dead
He’s just a few steps, behind me now, you better turn this car around."
I lean over, ask a final time, "are you coming with me, do you want to ride?"
She smiles so sweetly, with a tear in her eye; she shakes her head and says
My name be Blue and I tell you true
I don’t need no ride
I don’t need to get dry
But you had better run and hide
There’s trouble brewing for you
My name be Blue and I tell you true
The other side is waiting for you.
I drive away; I shake my head, some things are better left unsaid.
I take the curve, he’s standing there, I hit the brakes and I start to swear.
Lightning in my eyes, copper taste of blood, what the hell is going on?
His eyes are burning, like amber at night, a feather sticks out from the skull heads side.
And then I see her, standing right behind, she looks at me, and I then hear her sigh
My name be Blue and I told you true
I don’t need no ride
I don’t need to get dry
But you should have taken my advice
Now the trouble caught up to you
My name be Blue and I told you true
The other side now has got you too.
Listen children, when you’re told, there’s someone out there in the cold
waiting for you ,young or old !
Hear you angel when she sings, and listen to the love that she brings!
My name be Blue, and I tell you true
I don’t need no ride
I don’t need to get dry
But you had better run and hide
There’s trouble brewing for you
My name be Blue and I tell you true
The other side is waiting for you.
The other side is waiting for you

(c-B.Kirby - Braindead Muse -2009)

Another project

Coming soon:

The new Eric O'Twinkie CD !

"Blue!"

Time stood still

Time stood still.

(My name be Blue)

I had not seen you, in a long, long time
Now here you sit, across from me.
You have not changed much, time’s been truly kind
Your voice is still raspy, your eyes still shine.
And time stood still for a while, time stood still for a while
time stood still for a while, for just a little while.
We keep it light, we share some laughs
Relive some memories, describe our paths.
Your hands are trembling, it does not seem that cold
did we touch some raw nerve, as memories unfold?
And Time stood still for a while, time stood still for a while
Times stood still for a while, for just a little while.
Who was right about the wrong?
Does it really matter after this long, long time?
So here we are, let us just enjoy,
this moment together, honey there is no need to be coy.
I do have missed you throughout all these years
it's good to see you now, no regerets or tears

And Time stood still for a while, time stood still for a while
Time stood still for a while, for just a little while.

(c – B.Kirby –Braindead Muse 2008)

The Auditions continue

We think of this as the “cleanest breath in the county” audition! His name was Terry and he seemed to be ideal for the job. He had a part time job, his own place and a car! He returned our first call and sounded eager and professional.
We quickly scheduled a time to get together. He was very flexible and appeared eager to please us. He even asked if he should prepare for any specific songs and asked some very good, knowledgeable questions regarding the direction of the project. He had played in a variety of bands over the last few years, had very good gear and looked the part of a Rocker! Long, blond locks of hair framed his youngish and, according to Gloria, cute face. He was tall and slim, energetic, if a little wired looking. As we set up he twice excused himself briefly to visit the bathroom. He happily accepted the offer of a cold beer, and then we ran through a couple of tunes. His bass playing was very good. Terry knew his way around a fret board that much was apparent. He was not much of a singer, but made no pretense about it. We made it through two short sections of music before he, for the third time now, excused himself and visited Gloria’s guest bathroom again. He had finished the initial bottle of beer and was about finished with the second one so my thought was he must have a bladder the size of a pea!
When he returned we played a couple more songs and then settled back in the living room chairs and on the sofa to ask him some questions and discuss our plans with him. We wanted to make sure that, if we chose him, he would be on the same page with us. I know it sounds very much like a cliché but questions like “who influenced your playing?” and “how often can you rehearse?” are all part of the process. Just a few minutes into a pleasant chat he asked to be excused again and finally I just asked him if he had a weak bladder or something. I made a bit of a joke about it though by asking “how ya’ going to play a complete set on stage when you have to run to the bathroom every ten minutes?” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled coyly. ”Sorry, but I need to brush my teeth real quick” he replied, “I had some work done on them recently I’ll be right back!”
Gloria and I looked at each other as he removed a toothbrush and a huge bottle of Listerine mouthwash from his gig bag and headed down the hall to the bathroom. She smiled over at me and remarked how nasty she thought that particular brand of mouthwash tasted compared to the brand she kept in the house.
A few minutes later Terry returned, relaxed on the couch and with a big smile asked if the audition was over and what we thought.
I have to admit, we were impressed. Me mostly by his playing, Gloria by his playing and his looks I think!
It turns out it was a good thing that we had already, before we ever held the first auditions, decided to always wait 24 hours before making a commitment to a perspective new band member.
We told Terry just that and he agreed with that concept. The blond bass player quickly and professionally stored his gear in the back of his car, shook our hands and drove off into the warm summer night. Terry, the blond Rock and Roll angel, seemed like a great choice and Gloria and I began discussing him immediately.
My series of Cokes finally demanded release and I excused myself to go to the bathroom with the understanding that a decision had probably already been made.
As I walked into the bathroom the first thing that caught my eye was the large bottle of Listerine standing on the sink. Terry must have forgotten it. It took a moment for me to realize that the bottle that had been full, when we saw him carry it into the john, was now virtually empty! Did he pour it out or spill it? Nobody could gargle that much! There is not enough bad breath, plaque and Gingivitis on the block to use up a 1.5 liter bottle of original Listerine mouthwash in one setting! For my non metric speaking friends that is 1Qt & 1Pt and 2.7oz of nasty tasting crap! I took the bottle and debated on throwing it into the trash when, “holy ADA!” I spotted three little bottles of Vanilla Mint Listerine in the trashcan. Emptied to the last drop! I gingerly picked them out of the otherwise fairly empty trashcan and carried all 4 bottles into the living room.
It was clear to me now why Terry had visited the bathroom so frequently. He was drinking the mouthwash like Scotch or whiskey or whatever his choice of liquor may be when he had the money to buy the much more expensive liquor. It took me a while to convince my partner that Terry, the clean breath blond angel was not the right one for our new band either!
I will give him a lot of credit though! When I called him and told him we would keep looking he asked me why. I told him the truth. He returned the courtesy, and, we had made the right choice. Turns out he did have a drinking issue and when he was low on cash, or, needed to maintain for a short period of time, he would stop by at his local Wal-Mart to purchase a couple multi packs of Listerine to tide him over. Gloria was right…he looked and sounded good for the part. But, most importantly, he had really clean breath!

Another one bit the dust! But, the phone kept ringing.

Doctor, Doctor give me the news....

"Slice and dice and everything nice." Hopefully ,dear Doctor, you will limit the damge to just what I need. I'll be back in a few days and the real journey into a new future will begin. Another installment of "Garage Rock Blues" is almost ready and coming soon.
Keep me in your thoughts.

Sometimes you do have to stop and smell the roses.

Friday night reflection

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. - The Beatles, The End

Just a thought for today....

"In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
- Martin Luther King Jr. (1929-1968)

and the story continues.....

He was a tall fellow. Long, kind of stringy, brown hair was hanging down over his shoulders onto the faded black t-shirt with a Black Sabbath band logo. It was barely legible from the combination of sweat and multiple hot water rinses. A pair of old, well worn brown shoes was sticking out of the bottom of the tattered bell bottom jeans clinging to his long, skinny legs. His dark horn rim glasses gave him the look of a studious, though perhaps a bit confused, math student at UNT. With an infectious grin he sheepishly apologized for running “a bit late”. He went on to explain with a high pitched, staccato voice that he was having some problems with his gear but he felt sure we could fix it quickly and ,that we would be ready to get the audition started with minimal delay! The first clue that this could be a wasted evening was his continued use of the word “we” when it came to describing his, still unclear, problems. I offered to help bring in his equipment to get us moving along. Jammed in the backseat of the grayish car of unknown make and model in which he had arrived, rested a massive contraption, he lovingly referred to as his “Kick ass bass amp”! I spotted his Bass guitar, a nice Fender Mustang bass, probably 15 years old was on the floor leaning against the passenger seat. Well worn, but, at least at first glance, well maintained. I offered to help him as he was struggling to remove the large wooden (!) crate of a bass rig from the backseat. “No, thank you it is easier for me to do it alone because I know where I can grab it and pull without damaging any components.” was his polite response. He did agree for me to get the guitar, which was now starting to slide over toward the passenger door, as the car was shaking from his endeavors of removing his rig. As I was walking towards the front door, carrying his bass, I noticed there were only three strings on the guitar. I assumed he had the missing A string with him. An old college professor once explained the breakdown of the word assume to me. It went something like this: ASS/U/ME. Some things are eternal truths. We found that out as the evening progressed. Or, perhaps more accurately, digressed!
Gloria, with some impatience in her tone, wondered out loud when we might get started, since the clock on her wall was now approaching eight. Our prospective bassist was struggling up the walkway towards the door with his apparently homemade amplifier when suddenly a piece of his high tech creation fell out and hit the grass with a dull thud. It missed the concrete sidewalk by a few inches. That combination of falling metal and concrete would have made a much louder thud than the thick grass of Gloria’s yard. “Shit!” he muttered as he put down the crate to retrieve the small power amp. It had a bit of dirt sticking on it and some long, multi colored wires hanging out of it like the helpless tentacles of a beached squid. I walked out and grabbed one side of the wooden box and just said” let’s go!” We carried the box in the house and placed it on the old rug Gloria had already spread out. It was there to protect her carpet from any possible dirt brought in by some stranger’s gear. Smart thinking as later events will show.
I had placed the bass guitar in an extra guitar stand of mine and, as he was surveying the apparent damage done to his creation, I asked about the missing “A” string on the bass. I offered to replace it while he was setting up his amp. First he seemed perplexed by the fact that a string was even missing. Then he explained that he thought that someone named Paul had “borrowed” it and was supposed to return it but apparently failed to do so! He wanted to know if “we” had an extra “A” string for him. He offered to pay for it by mailing us the money when he got back home because he was a “little short tonight”! Good hearted Gloria, always the champion of the downtrodden, asked if I had any bass strings and as it turned out I did. He appeared very relieved and grateful as I got a string and began to wind it onto his guitar.
He had been messing with his amplifier for a good twenty minutes, when with a red face, bathed in sweat he emerged from behind the wood paneling and exclaimed proudly:” Almost there! We just need a soldering iron and some solder.”
There it was again! That word! “We”!!!
I took a deep breath and with as calm a voice as I could muster I told him that “we” had neither available here at this time!
He shrugged his shoulders and said:”Ok, Is there a “Home Depot” nearby?”
Before I could respond Gloria said: “Yes, only five minutes away! Why?”
“I will run over there real quick and buy a small soldering iron and some solder come back and fix this and we’ll be ready to roll in twenty minutes.”
He stood up, adjusted his glasses and grabbed his car keys off the top of his amp. He quickly walked towards the front door. As he reached for the doorknob he hesitated. I prepared myself for what I knew was bound to come next. I was right, but with a unique twist. I thought he would just ask for some money! He turned around and calmly said:” Oh, by the way, I only have one check with me and if I write a check for the solder iron and stuff I won’t be able to write a check for gas later and I am almost on empty. Can I write you a check so I can get enough money for gas and the solder iron”?
This audition was over.
It was nothing compared to the next one!

In the dark of the night

Dark of the night

Softly you weep
While he beside you lay sleeping
Feeling his warm and familiar body next to you
No one really knows what it is you’re feeling
No one really knows what it is you’re dreaming
In the dark of the night
In the dark of the night.
Love’s not grown cold
But it has changed and it’s deceiving
So many years
Is it just to know that you are needed ?
No one really knows what it is you’re feeling
No one really knows what it is you’re dreaming
In the dark of the night
In the dark of the night.
In the dark of the night - when sleep don’t come easy
In the dark of the night - when it don't feel like treason
In the dark of the night - when your eyes are wide open
You can still see - (in the dark of the night)
what it could be - (in the dark of the night)
just you and me - (in the dark of the night)
In the dark of the night.

copyright - B.Kirby/W.K.Churchman -(Braindead Muse 2008 )

The Story will continue...

Check back frequently for updates and new chapters in the continuing saga of Grage Rock Blues. And, as a bonus sometimes I'll just have a rambling blog to double your daily pleasures. Keep the faith and Yes, we can.

Garage Rock Blues

“Garage Rock Blues”
A musical memoir!
By
Billy Kirby & Gloria D’Arezzo


At the beginning of this journey we learned that an old bed mattress made the best sound barrier when leaned up against your metal garage door. If you were lucky it would muffle the sound just enough to buy you an extra hour of rehearsal time before the neighbor called the cops and you got shut down……. Again!

The birth of a Band
It was the latest reincarnation of a previous band project and we were excited and determined not to repeat the many mistakes of the recent past. We, that would be Gloria, a beautiful, super talented lady singer out of Alamogordo, New Mexico and me, Billy, born and bred in Germany, all those years ago, but home in the land of Rock and Roll for many, many years by then. Only players that were dedicated, professional musicians, who, like us, may still be stuck in a 9 to 5 job but were more than ready to break out and finally leave the garage would be considered worthy to join us for this, our most ambitious project. The unspoken dream of being the next big thing discovered while playing at a non descript , yet musically important locale, was always presumed. Once again, we are ready to play more than just afternoon pool gigs, a friend’s birthday party or the local dive. Not the food, beer and tip gigs we played during our last attempt to be serious and to be accepted by fellow musicians in our circle of friends. Some of them were playing for serious cash and we were ready for some of that too. Private parties! Corporate shows! Weddings! Those were the kind of shows were real money could be made. Now, that may sound like a simple goal! But, first you have to overcome the “I am not selling out my musical integrity and play what the paying client wants to hear just for a paycheck” mentality that many players bring to the table. But more about that later! First you have to find able musicians with their own gear, transportation, right attitude and yes, though it may be politically incorrect, a decent look for a stage performance. It would also help if they can play the instrument you need to recreate the sound you want to create. It is like putting together a puzzle. Every piece has to fit in order to create a great looking and sounding masterpiece
So, let the building begin.” Fun, Fun, Fun.” And, no, that is not a tune by the Beach Boys!



Chapter I
“Auditions”

Chapter I
“Auditions”

There are prospective players that answer your ad in the local musician’s rag that can audition in your living room. Bass players come to mind. Just have the prospective player set up his amp in a corner, hook up your own amp and guitar to accompany him, a small P.A. with mikes to ask for a little harmonizing if possible, and, in a very short time, you will know if he (or she) is a potential band mate! Simple! Well, that’s the way it should be anyway. There are, of course, exceptions to all rules. Let us call this one the story of the “solder challenged” Bassist.
His name was Jimmy H. After a couple of phone messages back and forth, we finally established a time for his audition and interview. Perhaps it should have been a red flag that we had to leave phone messages with his Mother. He himself “did not want the trappings of a phone”. Usually not a promising sign of a good business relationship if you are not able to contact each other when needed. But, we are talking about “musicians” here and the rules of the business world sometimes do not apply. Yes, as you will learn, we were always willing to bend a little and overlook idiosyncrasies when looking for a “real player”!
We had agreed to meet at Gloria’s house at seven in the evening. I got there a little early to set up a small area with a small guitar amp for me, a trio of microphones and a very small “rehearsal P.A.” since Jimmy had indicated he could “sing any part we wanted” him to sing. That was all we would need .Once he would set up his bass rig I would hook him up with a “mike” and we’d be ready to roll.
By seven fifteen I had everything set up, tested the mikes and tuned my guitar. Gloria drank some tea and I downed my umpteenth coca cola of the day. We sat back and the waiting began. Annoyance followed quickly, especially since there was no way to call Mr. Jimmy and track his whereabouts! At seven thirty the doorbell rang. He had arrived! Now the real fun could begin!