You or a Reasonable Facsimile: Difference between revisions
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[[category:lyrics]] | [[category:lyrics]] | ||
[[category: | [[category:song]] | ||
[[category:recorded]] | [[category:recorded]] | ||
[[category: | [[category:download]] | ||
[[category:Carrington Avenue]] | [[category:Carrington Avenue]] | ||
{{sidebar|__TOC__}} | {{sidebar|__TOC__}} | ||
==Specs== | |||
* '''Genre''': guitar song with words | |||
* '''written''': late 1980s | * '''written''': late 1980s | ||
* '''recorded''': Carrington Ave., Providence, 1988 or 1989 | * '''recorded''': Carrington Ave., Providence, 1988 or 1989 | ||
* '''download''': | * '''download''': [https://woozalia.com/media/original/ci-fax.mp3 MP3] (original mix) | ||
==Notes== | ==Notes== | ||
The words came first. The last bit (about the rodents) always makes me think about my friend Hilary, so I always say I wrote it about her before I met her. Dave Fawcett played the real drums (the crash cymbal comes through the most clearly); I played and sang (I use the terms lightly) everything else. | The words came first. The last bit (about the rodents) always makes me think about my friend Hilary, so I always say I wrote it about her before I met her. Dave Fawcett played the real drums (the crash cymbal comes through the most clearly); I played and sang (I use the terms lightly) everything else. |
Latest revision as of 21:55, 16 July 2024
Specs
- Genre: guitar song with words
- written: late 1980s
- recorded: Carrington Ave., Providence, 1988 or 1989
- download: MP3 (original mix)
Notes
The words came first. The last bit (about the rodents) always makes me think about my friend Hilary, so I always say I wrote it about her before I met her. Dave Fawcett played the real drums (the crash cymbal comes through the most clearly); I played and sang (I use the terms lightly) everything else.
I need to post a picture of the guitar I played when recording this. It's an absolutely horrible-looking beast that's almost impossible to play, but something about the way it sounded -- kind of punchy and resonant -- made this song happen. I started playing chords on it, and then I realized that these words went with the rhythm, and suddenly there was a song.
Lyrics
intro
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em . D . Am . C D |
verse 1
Em . D . Am . C D | And so I filled my nose with toothpaste |
Em . D . A . . . | And I proceeded to partake |
Am . G . D . . . | Of your ridiculous iguana |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | For all the difference it would make |
verse 2
Em . D . Am . C D | You could not know about my toadstools |
Em . D . A . . . | And all the luxury therein |
Am . G . D . . . | I never made you pay attention |
Dm . C G Am . G . | And so you wandered out again |
interlude
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . B7 . |
verse 3
Em . D . Am . C D | You wasted all my extra placemats |
Em . D . A . . . | It did not mean a thing to me |
Am . G . D . . . | You did not notice after zero |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | Because of your philosophy |
verse 4
Em . D . Am . C D | There were no holes in my begonia |
Em . D . A . . . | We couldn't find a single one |
Am . G . D . . . | You took your bags into the jungle |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | And pretty soon it had begun |
verse 5
Em . D . Am . C D | I couldn't smell the way you pondered |
Em . D . A . . . | Upon your rusty mandolin |
Am . G . D . . . | You should have known it wasn't easy |
Dm . C G Am . G . | You're playing chess with Gunga Din |
solo
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . B7 . |
verse 6
Em . D . Am . C D | I took my bat back to the garage |
Em . D . A . . . | Where it had been the night before |
Am . G . D . . . | And was it you who took my poncho |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | And left it on the bedroom door |
verse 7
Em . D . Am . C D | So let me answer this distraction |
Em . D . A . . . | I cannot think what it could be |
Am . G . D . . . | I often think about your rodents |
Dm . C G Am | Would you have done the same for me |
outro
(hold Am for 8 beats)
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em |