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Rules, rules, rules. My old band, Wheatstone Bridge, used to have rules, like, “Okay, no one come up with any more guitar jam songs in A minor…” And then we all belonged, for varying lengths of time, to a songwriting group, called The Songoes, and The Songoes required one to come up with a new song every week. I failed at that rule, even though the early meetings were held in my apartment. They also had a rule about, “No songs about writing songs.” The general feeling, I think, is that it was a bit like preaching to the choir, and a bit like a big ‘in-joke’ into the bargain. The one person who broke this rule successfully was a songwriter named Liz Brahm, who wrote a very cool tune called ‘This Is What I Do.”
Nonetheless, a few years ago (2001—was it really that long ago?) I got a solid week when I was able to hang out on my back deck and write songs without interruption, and didn’t I just write a song about songwriting? I remind myself, however, that one of the rules that both my old band and my old songwriting group agreed on was, “What is most particular is most universal”, and thus this song may have something to say about life as well as songwriting. At this point in my life I figure, write about anything and it’s universal. Or not. But write it anyway.
So this is a song about something that I do, which is, I try to write songs and some come easy and some live in one notebook after another, trying to be finished, never given up on because, “C’mon, it’s got that great LINE… Can’t throw THAT away…” This is the ‘particular’ part, because no one else on MacJams does this. Everyone else’s songs spring fully armored from their forehead, and write themselves down on paper into the bargain. I am ashamed to admit that I do tend to worry and fret and work over these things sometimes.
This song was written as a ditty to get things flowing, and, true to its theme, I kind of got to like it and I’ve kept it. Like many bad songs it has a little bit of the obscure/esoteric in there: the Fisher King is a character in Arthurian mythology, a wounded warrior, keeper of the Holy Grail, and to some extent an arbiter of truth who urges the seeker to ask the right question, the “healing question”. He catches the fish that is served at the Grail supper. He is both cause and potential healer of The Wasteland.
All kinds of layers in there. Don’t get me started.
This is the second of the five songs that Neil put drums and bass on. Once again, I’m very happy with the results, and very grateful. Yeah, I guess he can go relax in Germany and Switzerland now. What the heck. But come back, Neil, I’ve got this new one…
Ed Hannifin: vocals, acoustic and electric six and twelve-string guitars
Neil Porter: bass, drums, very small but important gong
I’ll also mention that I really like the tone I got out of the Telecaster on this one….
Nonetheless, a few years ago (2001—was it really that long ago?) I got a solid week when I was able to hang out on my back deck and write songs without interruption, and didn’t I just write a song about songwriting? I remind myself, however, that one of the rules that both my old band and my old songwriting group agreed on was, “What is most particular is most universal”, and thus this song may have something to say about life as well as songwriting. At this point in my life I figure, write about anything and it’s universal. Or not. But write it anyway.
So this is a song about something that I do, which is, I try to write songs and some come easy and some live in one notebook after another, trying to be finished, never given up on because, “C’mon, it’s got that great LINE… Can’t throw THAT away…” This is the ‘particular’ part, because no one else on MacJams does this. Everyone else’s songs spring fully armored from their forehead, and write themselves down on paper into the bargain. I am ashamed to admit that I do tend to worry and fret and work over these things sometimes.
This song was written as a ditty to get things flowing, and, true to its theme, I kind of got to like it and I’ve kept it. Like many bad songs it has a little bit of the obscure/esoteric in there: the Fisher King is a character in Arthurian mythology, a wounded warrior, keeper of the Holy Grail, and to some extent an arbiter of truth who urges the seeker to ask the right question, the “healing question”. He catches the fish that is served at the Grail supper. He is both cause and potential healer of The Wasteland.
All kinds of layers in there. Don’t get me started.
This is the second of the five songs that Neil put drums and bass on. Once again, I’m very happy with the results, and very grateful. Yeah, I guess he can go relax in Germany and Switzerland now. What the heck. But come back, Neil, I’ve got this new one…
Ed Hannifin: vocals, acoustic and electric six and twelve-string guitars
Neil Porter: bass, drums, very small but important gong
I’ll also mention that I really like the tone I got out of the Telecaster on this one….
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Lyrics
Bad Old Song
© 2001 Ed Hannifin
Capo 4
Intro: one time verse/chorus
Maybe the rhythm isn’t right
Maybe the rhyme is wrong
You didn’t work on it enough
Or you worked on it too long
It’s got no place among your others
No matter what it won’t belong
You don’t know what it’s about
But sometimes you drag it out
That bad old song
Maybe the time’s a little off
Maybe the tune’s a little bland
You’d put up with it, I guess
If it was Dylan and The Band
It just needs a little something
Like a cymbal or a gong
So you give it extra tries
Though you know it isn’t wise
That bad old song
Yes, and everybody’s got one
Some have two or three or four
I even knew a guy one time
Who had a couple more
It’s impossible to fix it
And no one tries to sing a long
There’s no bird around your neck
Ever makes you feel like heck
Like a bad old song
[Break: one time verse/chorus]
Sometimes to be a fisher man
You’ve got to be a Fisher King
You’ve got to know what to throw back
You’ve got to know what not to sing
Like bad pennies or bad children
Like a friend who “won’t be long”
Sometimes you give it one more chance
Hoping it has learned to dance
That bad old song
Sometimes you give it one more chance
Hoping it has learned to dance, That bad old song….
© 2001 Ed Hannifin
Capo 4
Intro: one time verse/chorus
Maybe the rhythm isn’t right
Maybe the rhyme is wrong
You didn’t work on it enough
Or you worked on it too long
It’s got no place among your others
No matter what it won’t belong
You don’t know what it’s about
But sometimes you drag it out
That bad old song
Maybe the time’s a little off
Maybe the tune’s a little bland
You’d put up with it, I guess
If it was Dylan and The Band
It just needs a little something
Like a cymbal or a gong
So you give it extra tries
Though you know it isn’t wise
That bad old song
Yes, and everybody’s got one
Some have two or three or four
I even knew a guy one time
Who had a couple more
It’s impossible to fix it
And no one tries to sing a long
There’s no bird around your neck
Ever makes you feel like heck
Like a bad old song
[Break: one time verse/chorus]
Sometimes to be a fisher man
You’ve got to be a Fisher King
You’ve got to know what to throw back
You’ve got to know what not to sing
Like bad pennies or bad children
Like a friend who “won’t be long”
Sometimes you give it one more chance
Hoping it has learned to dance
That bad old song
Sometimes you give it one more chance
Hoping it has learned to dance, That bad old song….
johnwhitehead
Hey, I like this. A melody that grows on you and very tasty lead playing. Nice natural vocal delivery, too. I can relate to the theme, big time. I have plenty of bad old songs.
Although sometimes we're at our best when were not really trying. Enjoyed this.