Multimedia freelance journalist. Lead Music Writer & Assistant Editor for Technorati. National Music History Examiner. Certified Google Creator Academy Alumni 2013. Join me on YouTube Interviews From The Edge or G+
Bad idea, what was I thinking when I made no move that day I just watched did not touch, too scared to steal you away How was I to know how fast the years would go, how long we'd be apart? How your voice your smile your every move would stay engraved upon my heart Tattoo Copyright 2006 by Bud Buckley
I've featured Bud Buckley on Musical Monday before but I thought that today I'd let him take over and tell us a little bit about how he hones his craft. These lyrics came about while I was at the end of recording my first CD, Feel My Love. My producer, Mark Zampella, was trying to get me to accept a track I was not very happy with. I was out of time and money to make a do over. He said, "Are you gonna do another CD after this?" I assured him I'd have to just to prove I could do better.
"Then it's like my tattoo," he said.
"Huh?" I wondered. I am tattooless and don't completely understand them. Both my kids and their spouses and a large number of my friends have them. I don't ask them to explain. My daughter told me recently that it's kind of addictive. People's addictions are personal so I left it at that, imagining a future generation of grandparents covered in ink. But whatever.
"People sometimes ask me if I regret these tattoos," Mark said gesturing to some on his legs. "And I tell them no because it represents who and where I was then. And I moved on."
"So that's what my recordings are like? Permanent fixtures of who I was then and I can either feel stuck with them or embrace them?"
"That's a wrap then."
I started to write Tattoo not long after that. My Cathy jumped on it immediately and loved the idea that she is a permanent fixture on me and in me.
This is the newest version of this song. Recorded in NY a few weeks ago in the home studio of Helen Avakian. Helen is an award winning singer/songwriter and one of my dearest friends in NY. She was my former guitar teacher. I went to NY last month to have her arrange some tunes for my new CD. This one was her favorite and we spent two full days adjusting the lyrics and getting down these tracks. Her husband, Terry Champlin, a composer and classical guitar teacher at Vassar College, did the mix.
I simplified the way I usually play it live, doing just a unadorned rhythm guitar track first. I then added two tracks of guitar, one classical and one steel string. The vocal is pretty dry and I haven't messed with any harmonies yet. That will come. Helen added a bass track which I hope you can hear on your connection. She also added some light percussion. We'll redo the whole thing up in Woodstock at NRS studios when I can book some time in the spring.
"However cleverly you sneak up on a mirror... your reflection always looks you straight in the eye." Louis Cyphre Angel Heart
We evolve in a web. We spread ourselves out and bask in the sun, we reach out to touch one another, never truly knowing what it is that we show of ourselves to the world.
And then it happens...
We are forced to look at ourselves through the eyes of another and suddenly the face that we know, the face of ourselves on the inside, is slowly reversed and we can finally see what others see of us.
I find it amusing to watch this happen. Sadly amusing.
The mind's eye is deceitful. It shows us a face we can live with. It shows us a face that we have intentionally polished so that we may sleep... when sleep will have us. But what do we do when the mirror's reflection shows us to be the ugly creatures we truly are?
My suggestion... change.
Else crash that betraying mirror and continue to pervert the self image. The Id will prevail, bent on self gratification and aggression, with little more than a thought to future consequence.
It feels so good to let the Id have its way with us. All satisfaction and no responsibility.
It is The Pleasure Principle. It is without reason.
I've wondered why my eyes will not close when I lie down at night. Why it is so difficult to make myself move with just a thought. Why I have no appetite for desire. None of my usual lust for exploring.
I have reached my spirit upward and followed the brightest star in the darkened night sky. That is how I came to be wishing upon a planet. I wondered why my dreams weren't coming true.
Saturday 16th September 2006 I shall be jumping out of a plane at 10,000 feet, strapped to an expert... I hope... all for charity.
I have set myself a goal, to raise £10,000 in a year for Cancerbackup. This charity is amazing, they were my main source of information written in understandable language. They have a 24hour helpline to call and sometimes it's easy to forget how important it is to support the charities that support the people who have, think they have or have a relative with cancer. Cancerbackup is available to anyone who has the internet. Nearly all the leaflets I found useful that were handed out at hospital were written by them. If you want to see the site go here...
If you would like to support my Leap please visit my page for donations. This is a clever system that means I don't have to collect in money from folks far afield and my friends all over the world can support me.
I'd really like to reach at least £2000 before I leap.
Please go encourage Noonie. Not only is she herself a cancer survivor, but also the mother of a cancer survivor. You see Noonie's little daughter was diagnosed with cancer also and has survived. Now that should be enough to make any mother or father want to support her.
It is a small world, when we look at how we, here in America, can support a woman in the UK who is working to benefit us all. Our wives, sisters and mothers.
I was a clockwork doll that night, and I turned left and I turned right and when I fell and broke to bits, they recomposed my wax and wits.
A Clockwork Doll
Time continues on. Bridges have been burned and reforged out of cindered remains. Some have fallen away, whilst others have rebounded. And in deep waters that run beneath the ever-flowing current I see reflected my simulacrum. The waves move my unmoving expression.
Cometh the night. The wind falls low, The trees swing slowly to and fro: Around the church the headstones grey Cluster, like children strayed away But found again, and folded so. In Flanders Fields (The Night Cometh) by John McCrae
On a sunny morning in 2001 nearly 3,000 people lost their lives in a stunning act of betrayal against humanity. The magnitude of their loss hit us all like a punch in the gut, however, we should never forget that each of the 3,000 was an individual-- with family, friends, children and lovers. The greatest loss was not in the totality, but in the loss of each individual. The passion in their lives, their laughter and the tears they shed in joy and pain were wiped away forever in a matter of hours.
Their loss should not be forgotten, nor the lesson we learned that day. Every moment is precious. We cannot have a single second back. Make them all count.
Work while it is Day, the Night cometh when no man can work. -Jesus