FAWM: February Album Writing Month 2004

numero 15 - in my back tavern years
WMA file here
el fin de FAWM
i planned to write a dylanesque ballad (or dylany ripoff, depending on how you look at it) all along, and like the spanish song, it always seemed like something i really wanted to labour over. so i kept putting it off.

in the end, i threw this down a little too fast to have a solid lyric, but i might work on it. ten monotonous verses. i was debating whether i should do straight monotonous music or throw in some twists. however, since i was late recording this, i decided to play it straight. it still turned out funkier than i thought it would.

i don't know where burr, hopper, and eric stand on dylan, but i figured i should throw this in here.
WARNING: EXTENDED NOTES ABOUT DYLAN INFLUENCES...

in some circles, this would probably be considered blasphemy. the song tips its hat blatantly to several songs from dylan's Blood on the Tracks...

1 - the structure is just like "shelter from the storm" = 10 verses of AABB concluding with the same line.

2 - one line is pilfered from "if you see her, say hello" = if you see her, say hello. she might be in tangiers. i only did that because i realized midway (while searching for things to rhyme with years) that i could use that line... i was thinking, "how about a place name?" and voila.

3 - one idea is paraphrased from "tangled up in blue" = we split up on the docks that night, both agreeing it was best. she turned around to look at me, as i was walkin' away. i heard her say over my shoulder, "we'll meet again someday..."

also, i really like dylan's album and song "new morning" a lot. a simple happy peppy tune. so i was happy to use the words "new morning."

a couple arlo guthrie tunes kept working themselves into the mix, too. i was mostly thinking dylan, but when it came to the phrasing for the last line of each verse, i kept thinking of "in my darkest hour". and "when a soldier makes it home" also came to mind.

the title came to me before i started thinking about dylan or arlo guthrie, but i like it since it seems like a mixture of dylan's "my back pages" and guthrie's "in my darkest hour".

"silly souvenirs" is for burr.

thematically, i wanted to capture a funny epiphany i had. FAWM has kept me really busy, but mostly because i subtracted nothing (except sleep) from my non-FAWM schedule, which includes a lot of hours in bars, either playing music, listening to music, or occasionally just drinking. and i mean A LOT of hours. so i imagine a day when i look back on exhausted, foggy times and am amused by what all went down. it'll be cool to have the FAWM songs as one chronicle of a foggy month.

and, obligatorily perhaps, but in accordance with the truth, a girl drifts through the fog.


in my back tavern years

hazy shapes and faces come to mind and fade away
in dark and smoky backrooms where gypsy minstrels play
i bartered sleep for time to watch the grinding of the gears
so many songs sung and forgotten in my back tavern years

everybody had a song and every voice made its sound
all the hippie girls appeared from nowhere twirling all around
the music and the dancers flowing through my eyes and ears
all the details blend together in the memory of my back tavern years

they showed up one night together barely holding each other up
we were all over the limit and we all refilled the cup
we plotted grand adventures out beyond the last frontiers
and we refused to heed reality in my back tavern years

the circus came to town and raged when those two came on board
you could tell he had connections but she's the one we all adored
sometimes it all seemed like a show, and they were the puppeteers
pulled by strings nobody gave much much thought in my back tavern years

i can't recall much forethought... it all happened on a whim
and i didn't even notice i was seeing more of her than him
but worlds tilt and topple over when they don't have both hemispheres
and our world was spinning tilted in my back tavern years

we split up on the docks that night, she said we'd meet again someday
and all our plans for the future never seemed so far away
as the nectar flowed and we poled and rowed like drunken gondoliers
down rough uncharted waters in my back tavern years

the way that people came and went, we never knew who'd come and gone
but i got a sinking feeling as the lonely days wore on
if you see her, say hello, she might be in tangiers
i only know her whereabouts in my back tavern years

those times seems more important as they're further left behind
trying to make sense of what remains there in my mind
left with colours from every picture along with silly souvenirs
gathered all along the journey through my back tavern years

stories coalesce from somewhere deep inside of me
make me wonder where i've gotten to and where those two might be
as quickly as these dreams roll in, the phantom vision clears
each new morning shrouds the archives of my back tavern years

hazy deeds and demons come to mind and fade away
in dark and smoky backrooms, i can still smell them today
time and all her children grind the watching of the gears
so many songs sung and forgotten in my back tavern years