La Bouée

[MattyK]

Matty tentatively takes to the stage carrying his white left-handed Gibson Les Paul Custom...hey, in the fantast world it's not an Epiphone!) while the audience are still applauding Tillane (will they ever stop? Hey, at least he's on stage and they're clapping...this might be the best part of his night yet...)

He wanders over to the drummer to whisper in his ear and the bassist walks over to listen as well. Matty hopes he heard as only one word was uttered and it's not going to be said again.

Matty approaches the mic and addresses the room:

"Hey friends! I've been here over a week now and only just found the place, it's like bloody Spinal Tap back here, I tell yeh!"

There is a brief titter from the audience before the silence falls over the room.

"I don't know if you've had any Robert Johnson yet but, well, here goes nothing. ONE, TWO, THREE..."

The band start in unison, a heavy, rhythmic twelve bar blues. As the short intro draws to an end, Matty walks towards the mic again...

I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.

I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.

Matty takes a step back and launches into a solo. A brief look of surprise can be seen on his face before he closes his eyes and immerses himself in the blues.

I'm going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
I'm going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
You can still barrelhouse, baby, on the riverside.

Another solo from Matty who, apart from taking a step back from the mic, remains almost motionless. The bass player and drummer have long since abandoned convention and are improvising wildly and skilfully.

You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
And Im standing at the crossroads, believe Im sinking down.

Another brief solo before the band culminates their performance in a crescendo of cymbals, slap bass and insane fretwork. The bass player leans into his mic and says "Eric Clapton, vocal!".

Matty's shoulders slump slightly when he hears this and he shakes his head as he walks off stage...

[chrispenycate]

It's dusty, dark, and smells a bit musty, instead of the healthy smell of sweat and spilt drinks.Of course, it's always dark, but this is a cold dark, and the piano's drifted a bit. He sits down and his fingers wander across the keyboard, wincing a bit at particularly sour chords (Your fingers have never winced? Never flinched from hurting someone further, who was already in pain? I hope for your sake the situation continues for the rest of your days).

A chord drags out another, and the voice is forced to join in. Not a spectacular blues voice like the original by Stevie, but still projecting pain through the innocuous words:

Dear Mister Fantasy, give us a tune
Something to make us all happy,
Do anything, get us out of this gloom,
Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy.

You are the one who can make us all laugh,
Though doing that, you break out in tears.
Please don't be sad, if it was a straight line you had,
We wouldn't have loved you all these years.

There is a 'clonk' as the keyboard cover comes down, followed by a squeak of the leather from the piano stool, and the silence floods back in.

[chrispenycate]

Hmm, smelling a bit musty but I suppose that's better than stale beer.

*checks lights, goes "one, chew" into a couple of microphones, in a fairly desultory fashion, then checks the tuning on the piano, while turning the fans up to high, to circulate the air a bit.*

Oh when the rain beats down and melts the snow off from the trees
And your feet get so cold, you wish your tired blood was antifreeze
Inside the greenhouse, safe from the storm,
Wrapped in blanket and in baby, I'm nice and warm.

Looks up. Oops, forgot to turn the mics back off…

[Clansman]

Anyone for The Rains of Castermere?

[Tillane]

*Till wanders in, guitarist, bassist and drummer in tow, and starts to gaze playfully at his shoes as he sings*

On gentle ground I waited for you.
In drops of dew
I wished that were you.
With heavy hands
I reached out for you.
My skin soaking wet,
My eyes searched for you.

It seems you lost your way,
You've let it all fall apart,
Nothing's left here but you,
All you do is remind me.
Now that we've lost out way,
The rest can all fall apart,
All I see here is you,
All it does is remind me...

With sharpened tongue,
I cried out for you,
And must I refrain
Now that I need you.
The autumn wind feels
As if it were you,
And swayed through the fields
Where I once held you.

It seems you lost your way,
You've let it all fall apart,
Nothing's left here but you,
All you do is remind me.
Now that we've lost out way,
The rest can all fall apart,
All I see here is you,
All it does is remind me...

Whistle through your window,
We act the same as you.

Whistle through your window,
We act the same as you...

[Interference]

This has been running through my head every night since watching Concert For George twice in succession last weekend:

Tho' the days are long
Twilight sings a song
Of the happiness that used to be
Soon my eyes will close
Soon I'll find repose
And in dreams you're always near to me

I'll see you in my dreams
And I'll hold you in my dreams
Someone took you right out of my arms
Still I feel the thrill of your charms

Lips that once were mine
Tender eyes that shine
They will light my way tonight
I'll see you in my dreams

Oh, someone took you right out of my arms
Still I feel the thrill of your charms

Lips that once were mine
Tender eyes that shine
They will light my way tonight
I'll see you in my dreams



Of all the wonderful songs that might have stuck with me, I don't know why this one did -- It kinda resonates, I think - I've been playing it on mandolin as I don't have a uke.

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

*Shifts into Ray Davies, approaching the microphone* Ooh, a bit dusty, aren't you old friend?




Long ago life was clean
Sex was bad and obscene
And the rich were so mean
Stately homes for the Lords
Croquet lawns, village greens
Victoria was my queen
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, 'toria

I was born, lucky me
In a land that I love
Though I am poor, I am free
When I grow I shall fight
For this land I shall die
Let her sun never set
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, 'toria
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, toria

Land of hope and gloria
Land of my Victoria
Land of hope and gloria
Land of my Victoria
Victoria, 'toria
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, 'toria

Canada to India
Australia to Cornwall
Singapore to Hong Kong
From the West to the East
From the rich to the poor
Victoria loved them all
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, 'toria
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria

[Clansman]

A breath of Empire, no less? How 'bout a tale of the sea, then, though it was during the reign of Mad King George (III, that is). If the audience would join in on the choruses (anywhere there's italics), you'll like it even better. Beer helps too...

A capella, btw.

Oh the year was seventeen seventy eight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
A letter of marque came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

Oh Elcid Barrett cried the town,
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew,
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
She'd a list to port and her sails in rags,
And a cook in the scuppers with staggers and jags.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

On the King's birthday we put to sea.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
We were ninety-one days to Montego bay,
A-pumping like madmen all the way.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our crack'd four-pounders we made to fight
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

The Yankee lay low down with gold.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
She was broad and fat and loose in stays,
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
Our crack'd four-pounders made an awful din,
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs,
And the main truck carried off both me legs.
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears!
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

(quietly now)
So here I lay in my twenty-third year.
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now!
It's been six years since we sailed away, (louder)
And I just made Halifax yesterday. (everyone)
God Damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's privateers.

[Grimward]

*Steps out on stage and nods to Clanny, then picks up a Gibson Les Paul Black Beauty that looks Cultishly familiar...plucks a wandering rif twice, then ghostly bass player, rhythm guitar, drummer and keyboards materialize behind him and strike up a low, throbbing backdrop....*

Clock strikes twelve and moondrops burst
Out at you from their hiding place
Like acid and oil on a madman's face
His reason tends to fly away
Like lesser birds on the four winds
Like silver scrapes in May
And now the sand's become a crust
Most of you have gone away

Come Susie dear, let's take a walk
Just out there upon the beach
I know you'll soon be married
And you'll want to know where winds come from
Well it's never said at all
On the map that Carrie reads
Behind the clock back there you know
At the Four Winds Bar

*Rifs again four times, then points to the crowd, who join in...*


Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Four doors at the Four Winds Bar
Two doors locked and windows barred
One door left to take you in
The other one just mirrors it

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Hellish glare and inference
The other one's a duplicate
The Queenly flux, eternal light
Or the light that never warms
Yes the light that never, never warms
Or the light that never
Never warms
Never warms
Never warms

*The crowd erupts, then subsides. Pots erupt and strobes strafe La Bouee's stage, then flare and sharpen to a spinning latticework of lasers, which sweep the stage again then implode, a trailing flurry of sparks winking out behind....

The clock strikes twelve and moondrops burst
Out at you from their hiding place
Miss Carrie nurse and Susie dear
Would find themselves at Four Winds Bar

It's the nexus of the crisis
And the origin of storms
Just the place to hopelessly
Encounter time and then came me

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Call me Desdinova
Eternal light
These gravely digs of mine
Will surely prove a sight
And don't forget my dog
Fixed and consequent

*The band settles in, then embarks on an epic jam. The Les Paul wanders thru questing rifs, then finds its niche and explodes, collecting the rest of the band in its magnetosphere and shooting out over the crowd. Back and forth the jam volleys across the hall. The bass and rhythm guitar slowly come to the forefront, join the Les Paul, and the entire Bouee chants with one voice...*

Astronomy...a star
Astronomy...a star
Astronomy...a sta-arrrrrrrr
Astronomy...a sta-a-a-a-a, a-arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

*Keyboards and Les Paul trail off, trickling notes like a spattering of raindrops, the band dissolves and a bright blue emblem appears behind the stage....*

BÖC

*Tosses his pick to the crowd, then exits stage right*

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

*Steps up to the microphone, shifting into Bruce Springsteen* A nice little song for you fine people. *Licks his lips and starts singing slowly*



Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
W.C. Handy - won't you look down over me
Yeah I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a boy can be

Then I'm walking in Memphis
I was walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?

Saw the ghost of Elvis
On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
But there's a pretty little thing
Waiting for the King
Down in the Jungle Room

Then I was walking in Memphis
I was walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?

They've got catfish on the table
They've got gospel in the air
And Reverend Green, be glad to see you
When you haven't got a prayer
But boy you've got a prayer in Memphis

Now Muriel plays piano
Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her
And they asked me if I would;
Do a little number
And I sang with all my might
And she said;
"Tell me are you a Christian child?"
And I said "Ma'am I am tonight"

Walking in Memphis
I was walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel? (X2)

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
Touched down in the land of the Delta blues
In the middle of the pouring rain

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

*Wanders into the echoing halls, flipping on a small light and steps up to the mic with an acoustic in hand, shifting into Kenny Loggins* A sweet song about the innocence of childhood and the lament at its loss as we all grow older.

Christopher Robin and I walked along
Under branches lit up by the moon
Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore
As our days disappeared all too soon
But I wandered much further today than I should
And I can't seem to find my way back to the Wood

So help me if you can, I've gotta get
Back to the house at Pooh Corner by one
You'd be surprised; there's so much to be done
Count all the bees in hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do
Got a hunny jar stuck on his nose
So he came to me asking help and advice
And from here no one knows where he goes
So I sent him to ask of the Owl if he's there
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear

So help me if you can, I've gotta get
Back to the house at Pooh Corner by one
You'd be surprised; there's so much to be done
Count all the bees in hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

It's hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow throughout all our lives...
After all's said and done I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side
So I tucked him in, kissed him, and as I was going
I swear that old bear whispered, "Boy, welcome home"

Believe me if you can, I've finally come
Back to the house at Pooh Corner by one
And what do you know? There's so much to be done!
Count all the bees in the hive!
Chase all the clouds from the sky!
Back to the days of Christopher Robin
Back to the ways of Christopher Robin
Back to the days of Pooh...

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

*Steps inside and sighs, brushing all the dust off the old equipment and the microphone*

Now ladies and gentlemen, this next song I am afraid I will be doing by ear, and the title of it will not be revealed as I'm still not sure what it is. But please, see if you can recognize the tune.


There's an English boy in jail
In Valencia who gets a letter
From across the sea saying
Dear son, this is your father...I think.
With news of the family link.

Your mother's gone back on the coal round
And she comes home as tired as hell.
'Oh stick it,' I say, 'for just one more day
Or until that poor carthorse gets well.'

And your half-cousin Gail is in Holloway jail,
But at least she'll be near to her mum.
And your great auntie Clara stole two ton
Of cascara and I hear that she's still on the run.

And the welfare are giving two bottles of Guinness
To all 45-year-old mums.
And men over 50 get two pounds of sugar
To help them preserve their plums.

Your ma keeps making me tea cakes
From a recipe your auntie lent.
In my mouth they melt just like butter,
In my stomach they set like cement.

She keeps on experimenting, with different
Ways she can fill me. Oh, it's just like playing
Russian roulette, 'cause I never know which
Meal will kill me.

We all went to the wedding of that stuck-up Miss Redding
But we all behaved very nice. And we never let on
She was seven months gone; we just stood there
And threw puffed rice.
Di di di di di di di di di di

My mother-in-law's still in hospital
In ten months she'll have been there a year.
But her old man's no dope, 'cause he still has Hope
And sometimes Hope's sister Larir. (?)

And old Charlie Bride stole a ton of floride
He said, "It makes the water taste grand."
But last Tuesday when he fed his goldfish
One of them bit off his hand.

Well goodbye my son, now don't worry about us
Though Lord knows where we'd have been
Without that half a million pesetas
That we got for turning you in!

Di di di la li li li li li di li li li li! Ole!

[Clansman]

Need some shelter. Grabs a dusty Taylor six-string, played with a bluesy rock-riff, unplugged...with Mary Clayton helping here and there...

Oh, a storm is threat'ning
My very life today
If I don't get some shelter
Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost its way
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
The floods is threat'ning
My very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter
Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away

[Clansman]

Originally Posted by Karn Maeshalanadae

*Steps up to the microphone, shifting into Bruce Springsteen* A nice little song for you fine people. *Licks his lips and starts singing slowly*



Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
W.C. Handy - won't you look down over me
Yeah I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a boy can be

Then I'm walking in Memphis...

Marc Cohn, not The Boss. The Boss never sang it, and I know, 'cause I have all of his albums back to Greetings from Asbury Park. With, of course, The E-Street Band backing me up, singing my head off:

Madman drummers bummers and Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat
In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat
With a boulder on my shoulder feelin' kinda older I tripped the merry-go-round
With this very unpleasing sneezing and wheezing the calliope crashed to the ground
Some all-hot half-shot was headin' for the hot spot snappin' his fingers clappin' his hands
And some fleshpot mascot was tied into a lover's knot with a whatnot in her hand
And now young Scott with a slingshot finally found a tender spot and throws his lover in the sand
And some bloodshot forget-me-not whispers daddy's within earshot save the buckshot turn up the band

And she was blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
She got down but she never got tight, but she'll make it alright

Some brimstone baritone anti-cyclone rolling stone preacher from the east
He says: "Dethrone the dictaphone, hit it in its funny bone, that's where they expect it least"
And some new-mown chaperone was standin' in the corner all alone watchin' the young girls dance
And some fresh-sown moonstone was messin' with his frozen zone to remind him of the feeling of romance

Yeah he was blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
He got down but she never got tight, but he's gonna make it tonight

Some silicone sister with her manager's mister told me I got what it takes
She said I'll turn you on sonny, to something strong if you play that song with the funky break,
And go-cart Mozart was checkin' out the weather chart to see if it was safe to go outside
And little Early-Pearly came in by her curly-wurly and asked me if I needed a ride,
Oh, some hazard from Harvard was skunked on beer playin' backyard bombardier
Yes and Scotland Yard was trying hard, they sent a dude with a calling card,
he said, do what you like, but don't do it here
Well I jumped up, turnedaround, spit in the air, fell on the ground
Asked him which was the way back home
He said take a right at the light, keep goin' straight until night, and then boy, you're on your own

And now in Zanzibar a shootin' star was ridin' in a side car hummin' a lunar tune
Yes, and the avatar said blow the bar but first remove the cookie jar we're gonna teach those boys to laugh too soon

And some kidnapped handicap was complainin' that he caught the clap from some mousetrap he bought last night,

Well I unsnapped his skull cap and between his ears I saw
a gap but figured he'd be all right

He was just blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
Mama always told me not to look into the sights of the sun
Oh but mama that's where the fun is

And this is before Manfred Mann re-recorded the song into a #1 single by changing the lyrics in the chorus to be about female hygiene products.

[Hilarious Joke]

Hahahaha! At the risk of incurring your wraith Clanny I didn't know Springsteen originally recorded this!