STEVE GELLER, MUSICIAN
Some of my Songs, part III
From the Radical Manacle, Words That You Wouldn't Ignore (2005)
Fly on the Wall (Live) [2:27]
This is actually the second song I have written called "Fly on the Wall," the other a much less successful song in 1994 about a man in prison and a fly looking down on him as he contemplates his life. I was more than happy to transfer that title to this song, a send-up of the media and our consumer culture. It is intended to sound a bit like the Cars. This live version was recorded at a show in 2010.
Lyrics
I'd like to know more about human nature.
I'd like to see I wasn't being taken for a ride.
And no amount of intuition can compare to a look from the inside.
I wish I could rely on the conversation.
I wish I didn't have to determine fake from real.
The woman wears an open smile as she's selling you a raw deal.
I'm not sayin' I'd like to do it all of my life,
I'm not sayin' that I could even handle the truth,
I'm just sayin' that now and then it'd really be nice
To be there, when they discover the proof.
CHORUS: And if I could be a fly on the wall, I'd hear what I could hear And I'd oversee the secret conversations going on elsewhere.
And for only a day I'd be a fly on the wall--I'd go where I could go And I'd overhear the sticky situations that people never show.
The media will talk about full disclosure.
It seems what really matters occurs behind closed doors;
Converted to a little package you can purchase at the drug stores.
I wish I could articulate my inhibitions.
You're hardly ever sure which side of the line is true.
It doesn't take no qualifications but it's still so hard to get into.
I'm not sayin' I'd never figure out on my own.
I'm not sayin' the game should never even be played.
I'm just sayin' that rather than tryin' to do it alone,
I'd be there when the decisions are made. CHORUS
A hundred eyes to look around, to spot the lies of elders...
Why Would You Have Bonds Bunt? [5:20]
I have never been a fan of Barry Bonds, but his astonishing (and probably illegal) continued dominance of baseball in the years leading up to 2005 (when I wrote the song) led me to ask this question to myself and to others several times, and the lyrics basically wrote themselves after a while. I have since been informed that Bonds never intentionally bunted after 1998, which was wise, since in his later career he had both the most dangerous swing in baseball and two of the worst knees in sports. The format is a patter song with a recitative introduction and coda and two habanera-esque breaks between verses. One of the vocal mannerisms was inspired by Barbra Streisand.
Lyrics
There's a man who most regard as living legend,
He has shown he's always worthy of the task.
Millions pause to watch him triumph, millions pay to see him work
So there's just one little question left to ask... Why would you have Bonds bunt?
Why would you have Bonds bunt?
Even with a runner on first and nobody out in the tenth?
Even if you knew he could push it out front and to the right?
Bonds has a magic bat. It's not corked, it's just right. Ball goes splash!
Bonds is a patient guy. Gets one swing, sometimes none. Gets to trot.
Walks on four slow pitches wide.
Look at his OPS--That is all you need to know if you're a manager.
Why would a manager decide to take the bat out of his hands? Why would he go for such an unproductive stunt? Why would you have Bonds bunt?
One little butterfly's wings in Brazil, flapping softly, causes wind, wind which grows, Causes floods and topples czars.
Wind keeps whipping around, curves the ball, makes it dance,
But Bonds will still send it far. Wind waves white surrender flag!
Bonds is an ornery guy. Loves his family, but that's it. Hates the press.
They are rarely on his side.
Bonds doesn't like to be asked how he feels when he is 1 for 5 with 1 "deep fly."
He has a chair next to his locker, and a guard next to his chair,
But he's the best and, yes, he knows it. And he's blunt.
Still, why would you have Bonds bunt?
Bunt if you're leading off, have some speed,
Try to catch the pitcher napping in the fourth. Worth a shot.
Bunt with a runner on third and one down, and the outfield's playing shallow
If you dare to press your luck, if the runner's jump is strong.
Bunt with two runners on, nobody out, so your contact man may swing
And hit them home in the eighth.
But there's no one who makes contact like the Big Man himself.
Swollen forehead, swollen muscles, twenty five on his back.
Hits it high, hits it deep, and boats will clamor to retrieve it.
His hand eye coordination is top notch.
And his father--rest in heaven--and the one they call "Say Hey"
Both cheer him on towards the record that he hunts.
Given all the information, seeing balls that feel the brunt
Of his superhuman power, of the pitchers who must grunt
And bear the rise in earned run average,
Let me ask you: What would you do
As you ranted, raved and contemplatively thunk?
Why would you have Bonds bunt?
Alaska (Live) [4:30]
This is one of my favorite original ballads, partly in that it evokes a story about the protagonist while not actually giving any pertinent information about her. Nothing happens to her, the listener doesn’t hear her voice, and the only thing that defines her life in this song is the arbitrary fact of where she has not been, rather than where she has been. As the narrator watching her life in some invested way, I am saddened that, in the one thing I might be able to give her (first-hand knowledge of Alaska), I also have not been there, so I cannot offer her anything. The song was loosely inspired by Moxy Früvous' "Fell In Love." This live version was recorded at a show in 2010.
Lyrics
CHORUS: She's never been to Alaska.
She's never been there. She's never even been there before.
She's never been to Alaska. She's never been there. She's never been there.
She thinks her boyfriend might be sleeping around.
She walks up to his house to find the shades have been pulled down.
She writes a note upon his door;
She hopes that maybe, when he reads it, he'll come clean.
She sees a rally of political thought. She says what she believes,
Although she knows it's all for naught.
Seems that progressive and reactionary live without a moment in between. CHORUS
She dances carelessly in puddles of rain.
Her nylons take a beating 'til she washes them again.
She thinks that, everything considered
She would rather have the sun against her shoulders.
She draws a picture on the living room wall.
She's never taken lessons, not at least as I recall.
So though she's glad with what she's drawn
She rarely shows it to the ones that she has over.
The car is out of gas. She is sitting, softly praying, but the car of out of gas.
What on Earth could she be saying?
With her hand against her heart, with her hand above her head
Maybe she just drove around until she found some peace and quiet.
A single tear runs down the side of her face.
She opens up the envelope while seated, just in case.
She doesn't know what it will hold, but by the postmark, she is told it isn't pleasant.
You may be wondering what this song is about.
Ideas must have a point, and this one seems to be without.
But why would I recall the many lovely things that she has done
And without equal contemplation, introduce you to the one thing that she hasn't?
Maybe she'll go to Alaska.
She's always been a bit intrigued by the travel brochures.
I've never been to Alaska, So I can't even tell her what's there.
Answer My Phone Calls [5:01]
While many of the songs of this album are indebted to Elvis Costello in many ways, this song is the only one written explicitly to imitate the form and character of one of his styles (his balladry). In 2002 and 2003, as I was writing my doctoral dissertation on a work by Costello, I sought a phone interview with him, and was told by numerous intervening handlers that Mr. Costello would perhaps get back to me. (He didn't.) As a joke, whenever I saw him on television or heard him on the radio, I would shout "Answer my calls, Elvis!" The title stuck, but the storyline of the song is unrelated. Incidentally, I did get to meet him (and had him sign my dissertation) in 2011.
Lyrics
It took a million years for the world to cool.
Why am I so burned up over a few days?
As the leaves change color behind me,
I am fixated on the last words you said. Everything seems to remind me.
After one, you think that you're paranoid,
But after two, you may smile as though it's all OK.
It's a smile we all must put on when
Comforting denials are all that remain. Put all of your wishes upon them.
Do me a favor: Answer my phone calls. Make me a part of your life again.
I think I have changed, and I think it's a shame that we are fighting.
Who knows what one conversation can do? Call me back soon.
'Cause I've never asked you for much. You've given me more than I bargained for.
I wish there was a way it didn't sound so cliché.
I wish I could say words that you wouldn't ignore.
But there is much to be said for awakening
To the cold realization of negligence.
But the more we cover our eyes
Is the more that we limit our vision. It's the less we appreciate the autumn skies.
Do me a favor: Answer my phone calls. Make me a part of your life again.
I think I have changed, and I think it's a shame that we're not talking.
Who knows what one conversation can bring? Give me a ring.
Answer my phone calls. Make me a part of your life again. I think I have changed, And I think it's a shame that we're not happy.
All the time, one conversation away.
All the time, so many things we could say
We could feel, would could heal, we could run through the fields in the breeze.
Call me back please.
Do me a favor: Answer my phone calls. Call me back please.
One Thing About Heaven [4:42]
Much of this song is idiomatic of John Melloncamp, though the ending is closer to Joe Cocker or Don Henley. The “Na na na na na”s are supposed to sound like the Rolling Stones, and might if a larger ensemble was performing the song. And the bridge, especially the words “smoking pistol,” channels David Bowie. My mother never said the words at the end to me (I was referencing a line in Eric Clapton's "Hard Times"), but she did study Latin in her youth.
Lyrics
You can tell him every little thing that you've done, baby, like He don't see. You can do anything under the sun, baby. Has no effect on me.
The streets are paved with indifference.
They lead me astray, surrounded in shadows; How can it be this way?
No light, no heat, no fever, no man with a thin white frame... Who'll lead us to forever, and nobody knows his name.
One thing about heaven: I don't wanna go until I've figured out things down here. One thing about heaven: Don't nobody know just what is waitin' for us up there.
You can wish on every star in the sky, baby. It may not come true, But just the hope, it gives you a reason to try, baby, and it doesn't cost you to.
The place all knowledge is written,
Concealed by a door, without an inscription. Along with a million more.
Are we to know the secret? Will all our hair turn gray? And are we even able to keep it for a while anyway?
One thing about heaven: I don't wanna go until I've figured out things down here. One thing about heaven: I'm takin' it slow; I'm gonna ring in the New Year.
So much circumstantial evidence,, but no smoking pistol.
Say a prayer for our deliverance. Make it nice and slow.
Just like my Mama told me long ago.
She sang "Gloria in excelsis, gloria in excelsis, dona nobis pacem."
Let's Go Home [4:00]
This song is pure Randy Newman, with a bit of a rambling bluegrass opening thrown in. I had originally intended the lyrics to do nothing but jump redundantly through their own hoops (as they pretty much do in the first verse and chorus), but as I continued to write, there emerged a quiet profundity amid the simple poetry.
Lyrics
Had to bring my VCR in again today.
Door don't work, the lights just keep flashin'. Used to be black, now it's sort of greenish. Movies it plays are terrible. I guess that's just technology for ya.
25 long years ago, 25 long years from today,
Those 50 years--where'd they go? Who's taken all them years away?
Although it happened once before, though it'll happen once again,
So long ago--I wasn't sure, but if I had to answer then,
I'd say: "Man wasn't meant to walk upright."
I'd say: "Cars wasn't meant to have wings."
Lookin' back, lookin' ahead, it keeps me up, sends me to bed
But it's alright, baby. Let's go home.
There was a king who ruled the land. He had a joker by his side.
And when the world got outta hand, the king would laugh as people died,
Until one day he saw the sun. It disappeared behind a cloud.
And though the king was still Number One, he couldn't pacify the crowd,
Who knew man wasn't meant to wear blue jeans.
Who knew trees wasn't meant to scrub on the floors.
For a fool or a king, ya gotta look out for the Spring
And it's almost here, boys. Let's go home.
Just another flippant generation who don't listen to a damn word that we say.
Yeah, but 25 years ago, we were too blind to know
Where we'd be just 25 years from today.
So let's eat, let's drink and be merry, and let science and faith handle the rest.
'Cause I know when we're old, and we're gray, and we're cold
It's gonna be 25 long years to digest.
But I know that man wasn't meant to be worried
And I know man wasn't meant to sit around.
Have another round of beers for them 25 years
And for the future. Let's go home.
For our sanity, let's go home.
Moving sidewalks. Let's go home.
Other Songs
Welcome Back, New Orleans [3:07]
“Welcome Back New Orleans” (2006) dates back to a 1989 song called “Downtown Louisiana.” (I know that Louisiana is a state and not a town, but...I was 15.) I replaced the song’s chorus and it became the current version after Hurricane Katrina. Some of the original verses survived intact, while others were tweaked or re-written altogether. This live version was recorded at a show in 2010.
Lyrics
On my last vacation, I took a little trip
Down the heart of the nation, to the sourthernmost tip
And I found me a station that gave me a grip on the greatest blues anywhere.
So I sat myself down and I started to scat
And the people around said “I like it like that”
And I heard me the sound of a jam in G-flat, and believe me, it’s something to hear.
Welcome back, New Orleans. Glad to see you’re back on track, New Orleans.
I can see that rainbow, so clear and bright. And I know you’ll sleep better tonight.
Her name was Maria, and we walked hand in hand
To the block where her Daddy’s club used to stand
And although I’d just met her, I instantly planned to delay my outgoing flight
And she played me a tune on her new saxophone
By the light of the moon, we were standing alone
& I figured that soon, we were helplessly prone
To be playing the blues through the night.
Welcome back, New Orleans. Gotta talk a little smack, New Orleans.
‘Cause I can see that rainbow, it’s clear and bright
And I know you’ll sleep better tonight.
There was a big ol’ band that was playin’ some jazz
And a trumpet quartet with a lotta pizzazz
And the razzamatazz of each dazzling song,
Well, it lasted all night long.
Now, I don’t have a reason for needing a break
But every few seasons, it’s urgent to take
And the music’s so pleasin’, it’s easy to make up my mind about coming down here.
Gonna have me a po’ boy, gonna have me some fun
And Maria, if you’re out there, I’ll meet you at one
‘Cause the night is still early, & they’ve barely begun
To play the greatest blues anywhere
Welcome back, New Orleans. Don’t even need to unpack, New Orleans.
There’s a million rainbows headin’ your way. And I know you feel better today.
'Til She Is Here [2:26]
“'Til She is Here” (2005) was written and recorded in one 10-hour stretch as part of a jazz portfolio for a job opening. It is loosely based on the lyrical style of Ira Gershwin.
Lyrics
Typical story--You've heard it before She wanted her freedom, she walked out the door
If good things come to those who wait I wait for the day when she is back here
Living without her, the morning is gray A worsening feeling the rest of the day
If absence makes the heart grow fonder, My love will be stronger 'til she is here.
Why am I struggling to find the right phrase Relying on clichés when I want to say so much?
Why am I stumbling around in a misty haze? Though I have my pride, it don't provide me a gentle touch.
And I'm feeling so disappointed with what we've been through But sooner or later, we might both share this view.
So if it's true: it still takes two to tango, My dance card will be free 'til she is here.
How happy we will be when she is here.