zelda fitzgerald
(fetters)

big fish daddy, ocean mother
sweet soul sister, baby brother
something’s missing, the truth is ugly
it says if you see me you won’t hug me
you won’t hug me
 
old pandora can’t outfox it
grabs the box and then unlocks it
here’s a pill it’s time to pop it
once it’s open you can’t stop it
you can’t stop it
 
oh, love of loves! oh, fear of fears!
so far, so far - so near, so near….
 
into action, brick on throttle
you’ve got problems with empty bottles
something’s burning - can you smell it?
write the novel so you can tell it
so you can tell it so you can tell it
so you can sell it

Notes:
OK. It’s not about Zelda. It’s for Zelda. She created work someone else took the credit for. And worse, somebody she loved ignored her work through jealousy or just plain old fashioned self - centeredness. I haven’t met many creative types who haven’t felt the abuse I’m talking about in that regard, myself included. She went crazy and eventually died in a fire. I have learned that what other people think of me is none of my business. To the extent that I sometimes forget that valuable life lesson lies a measure of unhappiness I endure when I let my ego run the show. Nancy Milford’s biography of her is excellent. I hope Zelda is dancing in heaven.

-Rob Fetters

veneer
(nyswonger)


The great ape arrived in a shiny red humvee
He said “everything you see here, well it belongs to me”
He had an Armani suit and diamond rolex watch
And a keen appreciation for single-malt scotch
 
No civilization here
Tried it on but it would not fit
See it was only a thin veneer
A little rubbing and it comes off quick
 
Such a pretty face – dignified and soft
But backed the corner it’ll all wear off
The bloom on the branch belies a bitter fruit
That innocent face hides a cobra’s tooth

Notes:
I don’t think there’s a songwriter alive who doesn’t have little snippets of tunes rattling around in his head that never get realized.  The chorus to this tune was something I’d been singing to myself for several years, but could never figure out where to go with it. To me the chorus was so strong that everything I’d put with it seemed to diminish it.   I finally got the verses together (after literally dozens of attempts over the years) a few days before the session and played it on acoustic guitar for the guys – and then watched in wonderment as it turned into this enormous sounding thing in a matter of hours….great drumming & imaginative guitars can do that.   The guitar interplay in this tune nails me – it just poured out of these guys. I never cease to be amazed at how Adrian can capture exactly the right vibe on a vocal so quickly & effortlessly.  Getting in a nice little 8 bar fretless bass solo was the icing on the cake.

-Bob Nyswonger

on
(belew)

look at the sky the sun is rising
with another day to lay at our feet
what will we do and what will we see?
are the questions that keep us intrigued
 
look at the world of possibilities
what happens now and where do we go?
and there's a kind of freedom in knowing
it's a little beyond our control
that life keeps moving on
 
people laugh, markets crash,
someone takes a photograph
the mail arrives, babies cry,
someone tries suicide
 
a building burns, a crime occurs,
tankers sink and satellites blink
people shop, traffic stops,
but life keeps moving on
 
look at the sky, the new horizon
look at the changes it will involve
someone will die, a country may fall
but the world will continue to roll
cause life keeps moving on


Notes:

troubled beauty
(arduser)

troubled beauty
it's always you i seek
and when i find you
i climb to your peek
and i ask the same questions that i asked you before and i never get the answer that i seem to come here for
troubled beauty
you stare right through me
ever since we met i've been haunted by your frown just like a book i just can't put down well now you say the chapter's done you wont write anymore and i never seem to find the words that i came here for

Notes:
 troubled beauty popped up very quickly one afternoon after i had finished a book on the life of austrian film director erich von stroheim. his dark explorations of the human condition caused hollywood pictures to "grow up" in the 1920's and has inspired my songwriting on numerous occassions, this being one of them.
i'm not entirely convinced i know exactly what this song is about....
it could be about the creative process. it could be about a girl. maybe both?
written on the tenor guitar and mostly recorded at marc sastre's place in cincinnati.
i always figured it'd end up on a graveblankets disc but when the fellows heard my rough mix they went for it, god bless 'em!
dig adrian's atmospherics! marvel at the simple grace of rob's nylon string guitar! groove to bob's spacious upright bass!

-Chris Arduser
 

normal
(fetters)

that’s your mom, that’s your dad, and that’s the house that you once had
dig that car sittin’ in the drive – you’d all pile in and go for a ride
 
normal like a setting on a washing machine
normal like a norman rockwell american dream…
 
your mother drank, your dad took drugs
so you did too – it was your first love
the marriage failed and true love died
you laughed it off ‘cause boys don’t cry
 
normal like a setting on a washing machine
normal when christmas felt like halloween
 
when a family explodes and the universe cracks
you can run away but you crawl right back
either way we all must learn
you can’t start a fire without something to burn
 
normal like a setting on a washing machine
normal we go in dirty we come out clean
 
that’s your wife these are your kids
and this is the house where you all live
that’s your car sittin’ in the drive
lets all pile in and go for a ride
 
normal like a setting on a washing machine
when history repeats the scene
 
normal like a setting on a washing machine
normal we go in dirty we come out clean

Notes:
Slow learner that I am, It took a few co-pays to my psychologist to build this one, and figure out that there ain’t no such thing as “normal” on this plane of existence. Already quite a few listeners have told me I wrote this about their families. How ‘bout my stunning 2 fingered piano intro? The bass is so big and fat and heavy that Bob rules the song. Speaking of His Glory, Mr. Nyswonger’s playing all over this album is phenomenal. Why then, am I so cruel to the poor beast? Love and torment arise often in my lyrics.

-Rob Fetters
 

we never close
(nyswonger)

Pardon our dust – the door’s ajar
We’re always here – sometimes working
We never close
 
Mind your manners – speak your mind
Please lift your feet- I’m trying to sweep
We never close
 
Through blazing sun and pouring rain
You’re welcome here to share your pain
One word of caution – we’re allowed
To size you up and laugh out loud
We never close

Notes:

A tune of mine that was written for what would have been the third Bears record in the late 80’s … finally emerging like a 17 year cicada.  It’s an observation inspired by the feeling you get when you enter a place – restaurant, shop, garage, etc - where there are people that have obviously spent so much time there together that they’ve essentially created a world unto itself and you’re intruding on it.  A fun and effortless track – we were looking for a sonic change in the last verse so all of us went in to the studio and played the riff live together on different instruments (Chris on log drum & I was playing acoustic guitar) and Ken just used a wide-open AKG C-24 to capture it.   It’s great vehicle for Rob & Adrian to blow their stringy horns… I also enjoy hearing a different bear voice on each verse.

-Bob Nyswonger

think
(belew)

think before you open your mouth
and let your brains spill out
you might ruin a decent day
just because you've got nothing good to say
why don't you curb your tongue
before the damage is done
and with your ignorance revealed
think how bad you'll feel
 
the only problem is
there has to be a problem
you can't please everyone
it's always something
and you don't want to know what people really think about you
 
put away your poison darts
and your ironic remarks
it does matter in the end
except you'll have to make amends
and when you know you've been a jerk
think how it's gonna hurt
 
the only problem is
there has to be a problem
you can't please everyone
it's always something
and you don't want to know what people really think about you
 
the message of this song is a lesson for us all
you can't say something nice don't say anything at all
if silence is golden then you ought to try it out
cause it's hard to complain with your foot in your mouth
 
think...you ought to curb your tongue
think...before the damage is done
think...you might ruin a nice day
think before you say what you say

Notes:

keep your own counsel
(arduser)

i scrimped and i saved
til i had so much i began to feel brave
i fell in with some hustlers and i almost entertained their offer
but i kept my own counsel
it was my money, it was my time
keep your own counsel or you won't have a dime
they talked smooth, they seemed real but they were out for all that they could steal money, power, minutes, hours
so i kept my own counsel
it was my money, it was my time
keep your own counsel or you won't have a dime
the still small voice whispered soft and told me which stop to get off

Notes:
industry towns all have a certain taint about them and nashville, tn is no exception. music city is filled with highly skilled practioners of all manner of trickery; some use stringed instruments, others less so.

i spent some time there in the late 90's pursuing a single goal: to record an LP's worth of my tunes in a great studio with an excellent engineer. did i mention i had absolutely no money for said recording? well anyway, my wish was granted but not before hearing a lot of cockamamie nonsense along the way. thank god for colorful characters, otherwise why would we all write songs?

written on the tenor guitar, a less noxious descendant of the tenor banjo. the lads kick some pop/rock ass on this cautionary tale.

-chris arduser
 

idiot in the sky
(fetters)

it’s not your fault that you got hurt
you’re not a piece of karmic dirt
you were sailing toward your dream but the world laid waiting
it's not your fault that you got hurt
 
must be an idiot in the sky
tooth for a tooth eye for an eye
a little rain must fall but why the genocide
must be an idiot in the sky
 
so place your head between your knees
you’ll have lots of company
when st. peter calls you just say
please
 
hail to that idiot in the sky
you were sailing toward your dream but the world laid waiting
its not your fault that you got hurt
 
so place your head between your knees
you’ll have me for company
when st. peter calls you just say
pretty please
 
pray to that idiot in the sky
you were sailing toward your dream but the world laid waiting

Notes:
I admit I occasionally have blasphemous one sided discussions with the Big One and say, “What the hell were you thinking when you let THAT happen?” And I do grow weary of the garden variety zealot who feels it necessary to instruct any poor sucker that is insecure enough to listen that The Great Designer will burn you if you don’t believe the “right” way. Help me, Jesus! Sometimes people use the word “karma” as if they’re talking about Santa Claus and the list he’s making and checking twice so He can get even with us all. Holy Moly, Aleister Crowley! Michel de Montaigne said it best 400 years ago when believers were killing each other over this stuff - just like they are doing today: “Man can’t make a worm but he makes gods by the dozen….” Here’s another for the motley collection.

-Rob Fetters

doodle
(belew)

picture of an eagle looking up at the sky while a plane flies by
picture of a car sitting up in a tree at the auto graveyard
picture of the dinosaur man at the beach with a cloud falling down on the ground
picture of a sock that was lost in the crayon box
picture of a bird trying to fly but he can't, you forgot to draw the sky
 
all day sitting here in my space
making rhymes and sketching lines
thinking endlessly
I dream of how our lives could be so fine
if I could draw them the way I want them
picture perfectly
all the time

Notes:

comin' round the mountain
(trad.)

Notes: