I've tried, and failed, to find out what the copyright situation is vis a vis recording words (as poetry) over material written by others but played by my own band. As no one has been able to come up with the answers (and I guess that means that to find out I'd have to pay a lawyer a lot of money) I've started writing my own tunes. This is hard as I really am not a musician and right now can't persuade my own musicians to play my tunes. (They only want to play music by 'real' musicians.) Still, I have been fortunate enough to have one of my melodies played, and improvised on by the Bob Stuckey trio at the Vortex open mic session. Great to hear it played properly (instead of just by band in the box!) Many thanks to Bob Stuckey, Jerome Davies and Cheryl Allyne. (I think I got that right.)
Angela
Sunday, 7 October 2007
Tuesday, 2 October 2007
Caught in the Vortex
Went along to the Vortex Open Mic night on Sunday 30th September. Hosted by Romy Summers and featuring the Bob Stuckey Trio, it's a really great night, friendly atmosphere, and not at all daunting. I've been to a few of these, but not for some time now, so this was the first in a while. What did I do? Well not a standard that's for sure. I wrote a very simple 8 bar blues, called Summer Heat, and a poem to go with it, which I ended up singing, because when you gotta sing, you gotta sing. Then, at the end of the evening Bob and the band agreed to play an instrumental piece I'd written called Luz do Sol. No words for that one yet, but it was great to hear it played.
Posting the words for Summer Heat....
Summer Heat
The summer heat rises from the tarmac,
warm air quivers 'lucinogenic shapes
The cars pass by, the heat is almost too much to bear
a boulevard by any other name.
Even in the traffic there is peace here
Sun rises high, leaves rustle in the breeze,
But in this room he sits with gun upon his lap
The woman a burden, that’s her shame
She spilled the coffee, See the stain is drying
But you know he has had some time to think
He’s drawing on the cigarette right to the end.
She’s spilled that coffee just the same.
He lifts the gun, the trigger’s pulled
The room grows small
Light stripes the walls in vermilion trails
Outside a rustle of summer leaves in the faint breeze
That taught her not to play that game.
There’s Papillion lavender all in the window box
She planted it before the summer’d come
Her blood it dries just like the coffee before it
The bullet a pill to ease the pain.
©2007 Angela J Elliott
Posting the words for Summer Heat....
Summer Heat
The summer heat rises from the tarmac,
warm air quivers 'lucinogenic shapes
The cars pass by, the heat is almost too much to bear
a boulevard by any other name.
Even in the traffic there is peace here
Sun rises high, leaves rustle in the breeze,
But in this room he sits with gun upon his lap
The woman a burden, that’s her shame
She spilled the coffee, See the stain is drying
But you know he has had some time to think
He’s drawing on the cigarette right to the end.
She’s spilled that coffee just the same.
He lifts the gun, the trigger’s pulled
The room grows small
Light stripes the walls in vermilion trails
Outside a rustle of summer leaves in the faint breeze
That taught her not to play that game.
There’s Papillion lavender all in the window box
She planted it before the summer’d come
Her blood it dries just like the coffee before it
The bullet a pill to ease the pain.
©2007 Angela J Elliott
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