The Hate -- Original Song #38

As we approach the sad 30th anniversary of a brutal hate crime that left a stain on my beautiful city, I find to my surprise this song of mine, written many years ago, absent from the history of this blog. No longer. RIP, Joe

Well you know something's been eating me
Concerns something that fell from your mouth last week
I heard you say, "He's one of those"
Made me think of a youth named Joe Rose

They killed him on a bus you see
Along with their humanity
And I doubt this song will change a thing
But maybe I'll feel better if I sing

I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on

Rose's dad doesn't understand
He loved his son like any man
But the boy was gay so they hated him
In this city whose motto means live and let live
And it's wrong to think all bird are doves
But those who hate can also love
And if there's one thing I can't trust
It's when you separate folks into them and us

I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it's gone on far too long

- 30 -

Preying on Me - Original Song #37

I was living in the Mile End
Lovely place to find a friend
Course you know no one there
Is just like me

English, French, Greeks
Indigenous and artists
Lots of folks I call the blister-hearted
And that includes the Hasids

They’re always doing lots of prayin'
They gotta do a lot of prayin'
Gotta do a lot of prayin'
For sinners like me

And meanwhile on the internet
Trolls are spinning
Dark dark webs
They’re telling all these scary tales
Once upon a lie

They spread hate to create bigots
Then they churn and circulate all that made-up shit
Like that ain’t what toilets are for

The trolls are doing lots of preyin'
Yeah they’re doing lots of preyin'
They’re out there doing lots of preyin'
On the young and the weak

Now morons out there in the war rooms
Making plans to cloud us in mushrooms
They can't believe they can't play with
All their nuclear toys

They're doing lots of playing
Armageddon games they're playing
And Christ, it never ever stops preying
Preying on me

Now that brings me back to those Hasids
They aren't too caught up in our consumerist greed
And they may not be your creed
But I think they seem to know what we need

We need to do a lotta prayin'
There ain't nothing left but prayin'
I'm really down with all the prayin'


- 30 -

Requiem for the Hangover of a Canadian Immigrant - Original Song # 36

Eleven months in

Still finding your place

You cheer for the Habs

Watch The Amazing Race

The kids have made friends

Learned some French, ate Subway

But you cannot find work

And you have just four weeks’ grace

Lo and behold

It’s Canada Day

The PM looks lost touring a tipi in the rain

The natives around you

No flags do they wave

Just beers and grilled beef

And a look of disdain

CHORUS

Don’t fly your flag so mighty

So high

Don’t mix bloody Caesars

With ginger and rye

Know that at the root

Of every symbol is some lie

Don’t mix bloody Caesars

With ginger and rye

The cure for your hangover

If you haven’t yet clued-in

Comes from filtered Florida OJ,

Picked by Mexican migrants

Mixed with Brita-filtered water

(Thanks to the Germans)

And a Samsung-brewed coffee

Picked by Indonesian kids

CHORUS

  

If the Maple Leaf still means

Anything worth a fight

It’s writ ‘tween the lines

Of that Charter of Rights

So don’t hang your patriotism

On a populist rant

On a tax-payer’s gripe

Or an immigrant’s back

- 30 -

If Y(emelin) Should Fall From Grace with Claude (apologies to the Pogues)

If Y Should Fall from Grace with Claude
After being cleanly beaten
If Y’s muscled off the puck
And his passes fail completely

Let him sit Claude, let him sit Claude
Let Y sit up with the press where the hotdogs come with fries

This Cup was always ours 
Was the pride of Montrealers
It belongs to the Habs
Not to any of Buttman’s fuckers
It’s coming back here boys, coming back here boys!
Dump the Buttman in the south where the hockey fans run dry

Keep GCHuck at C
Let those Forum ghosts direct him
If he shoots from open ice
KidA or LB will deflect them
Into the goal boys, into the goal boys!
Win this town a twenty-fifth Cup
Where the Frenchmen used to fly

If Y Should Fall from Grace with Claude
After being cleanly beaten
Harley’s raring to go
And he passes pretty cleanly

Let him sit Claude, let him sit Claude
Let Y sit up with the press where the hotdogs come with fries


POGUE MAHONE!!!

GYFHG

Original Song #34: Prime Meridian

Where're you gonna' start?
When're you gonna' get up?
How did you get home last night?
Well you can't remember names
You can't remember faces
You can't remember promises you broke

You don't know what you're doing
You don't know where to begin time
Time to find your own line
Your Greenwich

Well it's time to sit up straight
Time to calibrate yourself
To the world around you
You're groping for a line
Someplace to begin
We all have our own Prime Meridian

You washed ashore at Brighton
You got as far as Lewisham
You can't find your own line
Your Greenwich

You're dreaming if you think that'll do
You can't take responsibility

You're sinking without a trace
You've falling out of place
You're losing all your graces

You don't know what you're doing
You don't know where to begin time
Time to find your own line
Your Greenwich

You're dreaming if you think that'll do
You can't take responsibility
And I'm talking to me
You're running out of time
You've got to chart that line
You've got to compromise sometimes
And find your Greenwich Line

Original Song #33: Keep

Things aren't always as they seem
Lives ripped apart tend to leave
Jagged edges
Better tread carefully
She's not quite the woman
You knew back when
Your naivety made you creative
Don't forget how

I was helpless when I fell out from under your wing
Used to tell you how you seemed to be an angel to me
Now you're thinking what you were thinking was the wrong thing and you know
It's time to think about what you should give
And what you should keep

Life's not meant to be a scream
Lucky if you get to dream
Enjoy it!
I know people who believe
Screwing others keeps the keel even
Looking out for themselves is the only thing
Don't forget how

I was helpless when I fell out from under your wing
Used to tell you how you seemed to be an angel to me
Now you're thinking what you were thinking was the wrong thing and you know
It's time to think about what you should give
And what you should keep

Keep

Original Song #32: Papa Got Hisself a Job

Papa Got Hisself a Job

Come around kids, listen up good
(Papa’s got hisself a job)
I’ll take you to the movies, Christ we’ll go to the moon
(Papa’s got hisself a job)
So scuff them shoes, g’head and lose that toy
(Papa’s got hisself a job)
Don’t matter a whit what you done broke
‘Cause now papa’s got hisself a job

Papa’s got hisself a job, whoa
Papa’s got hisself a job
Sit up straight, and stiffen your jaw
Your papa’s got hisself a job

I know we ain’t lived near as sweet as your friends
(Papa’s been “between jobs”)
I know you’ve been dressed in them duds second-hand
(Papa was between jobs)
But I’m gonna work hard, I’ll work for the man
(Papa’s got to keep this job)
I’ll open an account for your educatin’
Sure hope I don’t get laid-off

Papa’s got hisself a job, whoa
Papa’s got hisself a job
Sit up straight, and stiffen your jaw
Your papa’s got hisself a job

Kids like you don’t fall from the sky
Kids like you fill your daddy with pride
You’ve gone without but you’ve smiled throughout
You’ll be proud of Daddy too, have no doubt

Remember that day I brought you to my office, son?
(Papa’s old job)
I showed you the view in the morning sun
(Papa had a real sweet job)
When you asked to go back, my face just dropped
(Papa’d lost his sweet, sweet job)
Well now grab your coat, ‘cause I’ll tell you what
Your Papa’s got a new job

Papa’s got hisself a job, whoa
Papa’s got a brand new job
Sit up straight, and stiffen your jaw
Your papa’s got hisself a job

- 30 -

Original Song #31: Elizabeth

Elizabeth

listen to the live Randboro demo

Her daddy always told her
If she was good, she'd do no wrong
Now somebody's sold her
On some cheap line from some cheap song

She ain't nobody's fool, she don't like the term "girl"
Everybody's over-protective in her world
She's well aware of what's bad for her, thank you very much
And she's not staying home tonight

She says she's got strong shoulders
But they're only so broad
She's standing on her own two feet
But the ground below them is soft

Trained to think on her own, but still told what to do
Callously stifled following other people's rules
Every double-standard is an inexcusable blight
And she's not coming home tonight

She slipped through the door next morning
A little too quickly to not let on
She's been trying to find the answers all day
Only to find they don't always come

Her name is Elizabeth, she don't like the term "girl"
Everybody's over-protective in her world
She's well aware of what's bad for her, now she's had a taste herself
And she's decided on her own,
"You guys go on, I'm staying home
"I'll catch up later"

- 30 -

Original Song #29: No Healing

Messing around
Digging up tarpits
And we'll burn it all away

Mining that gold
Exporting asbestos
Trade the future for today

We don't know why
But I've got a feeling
It could be a long time
Before we start the healing

Frack that shale
Strip that mountain
Extract it all away

Drain all brains
With the freshwater
Rape the future for today's gain

And I've got a feeling
It'll be a lifetime
Before we staunch the bleeding

Hiding your crimes
Building more prisons
Disregard the scientists

Mute all truths
Reason is treason
Ruled by ideology

And I know I've
Got a sickening feeling
Could be a long time
And there won't be no healing

Listen to the rough solo demo

- 30 -

Original Song #28: Phineas Gage

My name is Phineas Gage
New Hampshire boy, born and raised
I drive a stagecoach here in Chile
You might say I've come a long way

Drive the coach steady, drive the coach slow
From Valparaiso to Santiago
Santiago to Valparaiso
Drive the coach steady, take it slow

The year was 1848
I was blasting Vermont granite
For the Burlington-Rutland railway
When the charge went off in my hand

It blew this iron bar straight through my head
Doctors all said I would soon be dead
But I wanted to get up from my sick bed
...And that's what I did

Drive the coach steady, drive the coach slow
Valparaiso to Santiago
Santiago to Valparaiso
Drive the coach steady, take it slow

In time I relearned everything
And I got all my memories
A two-inch hole on the top of my head
Now I keep that iron bar firm in my hand

People say I'm a changed man
Cursing, cheating and fighting
But what the docs couldn't understand
Was I was just still recovering

Hacks with axes grind away
Swinging their pet theories
But I was still recovering my empathy

You quacks all misrepresent me
But you don't know me
I'm still recovering my empathy
My name is Phineas Gage

Drive the coach steady, drive the coach slow
Valparaiso to Santiago
Santiago to Valparaiso
Drive the coach steady, take it slow

Listen to a rough solo recording

- 30 -

Pixies pulling out of Israeli show = "cultural terrorism": promoter

Stuck here out of gas
Out here on the Gaza Strip
From driving in too fast
--The Pixies (River Euphrates)

These are lines that will not be sung in Tel Aviv, now that the Pixies have decided to cancel playing what would have been their first-ever gig in Israel, in light of the Israeli government's bone-headed decision to defy world opinion and continue to punish Gazans for voting the wrong way.

Quick to play the victim card was concert promoter Shuki Weiss, who sent out his own release claiming Israel was a target of “cultural terrorism,” and that the government should step in and stop it. “I am full of both sorrow and pain in light of the fact that our repeated attempts to present quality acts and festivals in Israel have increasingly been falling victim to what I can only describe as a form of cultural terrorism which is targeting Israel and the arts worldwide.”

What a bizarre thing to accuse them of, "cultural terrorism". Only someone who completely misunderstands what the WHO called a war crime, could possibly come up with such a moronic phrase as that to describe a band choosing to simply take a pass on playing somewhere.

While Juan Cole points out that there is a sizable contingent of sane and peace-loving Israelis making their voices heard, I cannot put it any more cogently than he:

The musicians are protesting the aid flotilla massacre, in which 9 innocent persons were killed and 30 wounded. Come on. I’m not big on cultural or academic boycotts myself, but ‘cultural terrorism?’ How is declining to come a way of inspiring fear in someone? Maybe you could call it cultural passive-aggression. But terrorism?

...

A kind reader pointed out that Israeli troops and the Israeli authorities have now admitted to firing bullets at the deck of the Mavi Marmara before the commandos landed, and I think the evidence is that these bullets wounded some passengers and provoked the resistance to the landing.

So while we contemplate the complete loss of rational thought from the Israeli government, at least we can enjoy a good dose of Pixies singing about stuff that would almost surely explode the heads of the Israeli hawks.



OK, so yeah, you caught me - any excuse to put the Pixies into a blogpost.

J'suis coupable.

- 30 -

Happy Canada Day, everyone

This is stellar (and they even apologize for Celine Dion):

"I Know that You Want to be Canadian Please"

Finalement, c'est "Anglo à GoGo" pour la Fête nationale - Bon décision, SSJB

That didn't take too long. From the CBC:

Two anglophone bands from Montreal that were cut from a concert on the eve of St-Jean-Baptiste Day after a flap over language issues are back on the roster, the show's organizer said Monday afternoon.

"The Fête nationale is for all Quebecers, regardless of their language or political affiliation," Chantale Trottier, the organizer's president, said in a release.

Last week, Lake of Stew and Bloodshot Bill were in the lineup for the L'Autre St. Jean concert in the borough of Rosemont but were soon after uninvited.

There is a communiqué up explaining the move on the l'Autre St-Jean site (in French). Bravo to all parties: Bloodshot Bill and Lake of Stew for showing class in the face of the original snub. And hats off to La Société St-Jean-Baptiste de Montreal (or SSJB, who'd previously been behind the decision to uninvite the anglo bands), for coming to their senses.

Now let's just sit and marvel at how far we've come to see this day where anglophone Québecois bands are looking forward to celebrating our Fête nationale and immersing themselves in French Canadian culture. That's the spirit. When you think about it, there is so much we share; and we are lucky to live in a place where, more often than not anyway, cooler heads can prevail. Moi, je suis ben fier de mes voisins au jourd'hui.

I'll leave you with this really cool video of Malajube's (they're the headliner for the show in question), courtesy of Youtube:



Bon nuit.

- 30 -