Climatastrophunk

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Tracks
(Click for liner notes, lyrics)

1. hot shock intro
2. the weather
3. time has come
4. tip top
5. wildcats and sun kings
6. don’t look back
7. ride on
8. one two three
9. guru
10. climatastrophunk
11. hot shock outro
12. re re revolution
13. remedy

hot shock intro

vocals and ukulele: jon braman
recording, production: jon braman

recording

this track was recorded in the kitchen in DC. I think it was the morning the guy from the citypaper came to take a picture of me. I thought maybe he’d like to see the home recording in action. Turns out the stairwell had better light.nothing much fancy here, except I chopped the song in half and cut most of the hook.

lyrics

keep listening – you’ll get ’em!

cliff notes

sometimes it’s even confusing to me to be a student of both ani and biggie. Dar Williams and ghostface killah. But you find inspiration where you find it. And everyone has something else to give. I’ve grafted some biggie rhythms pretty directly in this tune from ‘kick in the door’ he says ‘trips to cairo layin with your bitch’ I say, “beanstalks, rippin’ up sidewalks, writing with bright chalk”. words are like little clues, isotopes for me. in ‘everyday struggle’ biggie talks about his man ‘two techs’ ‘they call him two techs he likes to tote two techs, and when he starts to bust he likes to ask who’s next?’ in unbelievable he says ‘just because I joke and smoke a lot, don’t mean I don’t tote the glock’ so I take the word ‘tote’ in my opening salute.

Second verse: there were two fig trees in mt pleasant – the dc neighborhood where we lived for two years. That first year, I really would sit in the window and write and play looking out the window in the mornings before teaching in the afternoon. It was a nice view, up mt. pleasant street. Past the corner store and toward the little triangle brick square which would morph from yuppy farmers’ to old timer hangout to community health fair weekend salsa dancing stage over the course of 24 hours. Fresh figs right off the tree are really good. At the after school program sometimes we would play freestyle games banging on Frisbees or with sticks. Tiffany (names changed to protect the innocent) was the best by far. All her raps would start out “my names Tiffany. I go to school. I’m six. Mister Jon’s 25. he’s old.” The first time I rapped for the kids everyone was quieter than I’d ever seen them. Seated with wide eyes on me. All except Antonio – a kindergarterner at the time known to be humming to himself frequently – sometimes Outkast songs – as soon as I opened my mouth and started rapping he just started rolling on the floor hysterically laughing. he laughed for 4 minutes straight and seemed to regard me as loose–cannon for a few weeks after that.
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The weather

vocals, ukuleles, mbira, shakers, arrangement: Jon Braman production, programmed beats + bass, optigon, tambo: Tim Bright drums: drums by chicken background vocals: Lisette Braman, Arthur Lewis, Malik Starx

recording
Recorded this one with Tim Bright in Brooklyn – really an awesome experience. Tim is a serious producer, knows his sounds. a really fun collaboration. I did sketch of the whole thing on garage band at home and gave it to him and we worked from that to put together the arrangement. Tim had the brilliant idea to bring in ‘chicken’ on live drums during the bridges. Tim took care of the beat programming – not much repeation there if you listen carefully. That high hat is freakin out. The mbira (thumb) I’m playing is one my dad made from a little kit. I love that thing. I had way to much fun with all the little uke fills and harmonizing the uh uh uhs. Tim was fabulous at comping it all together and giving it a big sound. You need a fucking big sounds to deal with fucking GLOBAL climate change. Big enough? Recording is not easy, geez, I am utterly humbled by the whole process. I listened to a lot of lil’ wayne winter 2007 and just couldn’t help slowing down the beat during the verses. It creates a lot of space for the double time rapping. Lisette and Arthur are singing in the background– along with me about 5 times. Plus malik as hype man. The most fun recording it was singing the super high falsetto in the background in the last bridge (that’s me!).i realized afterwords that my deeply ingrained mental model for that singing was bobby mcferrin’s version of good lovin/.

Cliff notes
By the way, this song is 100% serious. There’s nothing funny about it. We’re seriously in for it, unless we can get together. In more ways than one. No reason to be bored in this world, there’s so much good work to be done. Making connections across the barriers has to be the way – technology with need. Innovation with money. People with power.

So yeah, Katrina is old news, but it’s not the past, in many ways it’s the future. Our current economy is built to funnel pollution, dangerous places to live, and now natural disasters toward the communities which historically have had the least power to stop this stuff. From garbage transfer stations and diesal fumes to hurricanes, droughts and desertification. And people are starting to wake up to the racism inherent in these systems and what pushing for environmental Justice along with sustainability would actually mean. Poor people, people who’ve been disenfranchised in the current econompolitcal system, Must benefit from a switch to sustainable economies – it’s inevitable justice but it als owon’t work without demanding that now community, be a safety valve for crap that our livelihoods reject.

The third verse is actually about a really inspiring immigration rally ethan and I went to spring 2006 on the mall. It was packed! We were two fo the few gringos and the only people who seemed to have missed the memo about wearing all white tee–shirts. Oh well. It was a great feeling. as a famous native American sidekick once said when they were found surrounded by less friendly natives, and the cowby said, ‘we’re in trouble’: ‘who’s we white man.’

lyrics

what the fuck is wrong with the weather baby what the hell is wrong with the sky I think if we all stand together maybe we might just be abl to get by

when it got it got so hot in february no one understood why she thought it was scary saying it’s all good, we’ll still have blue raspberries anyway how could they have known that the very water from your sink won’t flow if it don’t snow on the mountain top and there’ll be a cop saying, back to the bank if you want to get a drink, thank you mam, wam bam uncle sam what a sham hurricane you got no plan, keep saying we’ll adapt well it’s crap cause you can’t evac–uate the whole map and if you hap–pen to be black brown or poor, be sure, you’ll adapt some more uh uh uhu hhuhuh

what the fuck is wrong with the weather baby what the hell is wrong with the sky I think if we all stand together maybe we might just be abel to get by byyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy o o o

what the fuck is wrong with the TV mama looks like those boys are having fun how’d that man make it look so easy honey casue I know you can’ thave no war without blood

well Iraq the facts don’t even make the back page, but the rage dominates the stage, little kids coming of age instead of car keys and parties getting hand grenades. Truth it hids behind suicide, push the news aside and you can ride on the wave of hate fear sweeping the land the date is near when baby although I know you hate to hear it we may finally have something real to fear uhuh uh uh

what the fuck is wrong with the weather baby what the hell is wrong with the sky I think if we all stand together maybe we might just be abel to get by byyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy o o o

mama how could that paper get it so wrong you saw all those people there everybody brought his mom dad dog and neighbor along but right here it says no body cares when we went we went down to the rally and saw all the people pouring out the alley it felt like for once at last we had the power but it only lasted for about an hour uh huh uhuhuhuh shoobe doo bop dwe

what the fuck is wrong with the weather baby what the hell is wrong with the sky I think if we all stand together maybe we might just be abel to get by byyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy o o o byyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyy to get byyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyyyy o o o

well we done a lot of bad shit but never anything like fuckin up the weather if we don’t get together it’s gonna be a bad day, huh? wanna take my kids out walking in the hills trees, instead of talking about a billion refugees, katrina’d by the rising seas the fuck is wrong, people? Please?

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Time has come

Recording
vocals and ukulele: jon braman
production, guitar, percussion, shaker, vocals: Miche Fambro
bass: Mark Foster

recording
This one we did at Miche’s. Here’s how it worked. One night when we working on ’ride on’ – Mark foster who plays a lot with Miche came in and heard a bit of the track and dug it. So Miche found a time when MArk could come by and we got a few takes of the three of us on time has come, live on vocals, uke, guitar percussion, and bass. We did a few take and I tried to stay out of the way on the uke because mark and miche just nailed this sort of 70’s funk groove that I couldn’t touch. Then they laid down the latin thing,..and later me and miche came back and added the vocal fun on top. First of all – all of the percussion hear is miche banging on his acoustic classical guitar. You have to check out Miche’s music which involves him drumming singing and playing his virtusosic hazz folks soul flamenco guiatar simultaneously. Amazing. World class musician. Plus, he’s about the most patient generous guy and thoughtfully brilliant guy you could possibly imagine – this album would not have happened without his nurture.

Cliff notes
First of all. You guys know a blue–footed boobie is a bird right? Second of all, which president was it who had a sign on his desk that said ‘the buck stops here.’ Third of all I didn’t actually write the first phrase of the second verse. When we were living on the big island, when our friends cary and ethan and meri were visiting, we went to see the lava at night flow into the ocean. You can actually get really close – though there are signs everywhere telling you death is imminent. Like you get so close the ground 9recently dried glass wave sharp lava) is hot, if you piss in a crack steam comes up. Anyway it’s like seeing the earth be born. And cary over hears this woman say to her friend named bob. ‘Bob, it’s a big old blob of lava.’ Whereever you are lady, thank you. You’re a genius. And cary’s a genius for capturing it in his ear recorder. I’m not sure exactly what I’m trying to say about Mr. Obama’s mother but I mean it sincerely, in a good way. It’s a toast. Also, Miche is making the chicken noise. Most fun recording moment: Miche and I improvising and scatting together over the latin end part. Improvising side by side with Miche is the kind of thing that could make you forget what time it is.

lyrics
The time has come Take a stand Drop your fears Be a man Swallow your pride Swallow your gum The time has come

Well the buck don’t stop these days it grows/ like a seven–eleven cup, the president’s nose./ My flows expose the underside of the poles/ where the ice–slips and shit hits you right in the nose: Pow!/ Another killer storm/ it’s global warming/ look at the top we’ve got this punk performing./ It don’t take a witch–doc to know we need transforming/ we know we’re anti–war but what do we stand for?/ Well I turn on the TV set, my pulse–rate’s a wreck, cause the gulf–states are looking like Bangladesh./ You could hang your head for shame, instead of complaining, won’t you help us getting ready for the next hurricane./ Saying, Noah would know what to do: throw a couple kangaroos, blue–footed boobies, you and me in an SUV/ ride up in the hills and maybe go see a movie/ hope the flood recedes by Tuesday./ Do you really think that’s a vision of the future that’ll do me/ any good trying to outlast these spooky assholes masquerading as dudes who were truly/ elected?/ Par for the course, perfected/ the art of the sort of manufacturing facts by force,/ and of course in this world where every cause is divorced from its effect, it takes a revolution just to connect./ Who’s next?

The time has come Take a stand Drop your fears Be a man Swallow your pride Swallow your gum The time has come

(singin) Bob, it’s a big ole blob of lava/ I’ma raise a cup of java to Barack Obama’s mama/ spit it out like a llama/ I’m a farmer with the city ringing in his ears, hear me calling mama. Across the ocean, across the great divide/ I got a crazy notion wonder if it’s ever been tried: Take a little ukulele maybe hitch a ride on a break–beat back to the beginning of time. But why? I wanna measure up, buttercup/ spoon into the soup of the world and baby stir it up/ I wish destiny would just hurry up, future’s uncertain but one way to sure it up/ is take all the gasoline and just burn it up. Then we’ll see what happens when the heat turns up, surf’s up, times up, I’m upside down, hanging form the empire state building mid–town NY, NY, singing “bgock bgack!” like I was Chicken Little saying ‘look out look out” better make a plan now man cause ‘for the lights go out/ and you’re crawling round on your hands trying to find your house/ you got a right to pout, I got a right to bounce now that we cleared the doubt, let me hear you shout:

The time has come Take a stand Drop your fears Be a man Swallow your pride Swallow your gum The time has come

Don’t you know that the time has come, baby, for us to take a stand and maybe we will wunderstand the reasons for the season’s changing.
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Tip top

vocals and ukulele: jon braman
vocals and production: arthur lewis
beatbox and shaker: shockwave

recording
You all know this is one of the oriingal first uke hip hop songs written that summer canvassing in Hartford. Recorded at Arthur’s in sunny side. Shock wave on beat box and shaker. We’d record the basic uke/vocals/beatbox track first and then layer the rest over it. Arthur’s vocals came in at the last minute and really pulled it together. Damn. Recording with Arthur and shockwave is like a dream. Those guys are just so good. Arthur’s pivoting in this chair between the recording controls and keyboard. I go out for a snack and come back he’s recorded his own vocals 5 times over with these ‘mm mm ‘ ‘oowee’ things athat just fit in so perfectly. and it was pretty sunny in that room as well. Shadows of passing pigeouns flitting past on the walls.

Cliff notes
I really do drive my grandparents old white station wagon. Although not really any more now that we’re in ny. I swear the last verse keeps happening to me. Losing your identity to yourself thing. Look out! But seriously. The whole logic of capitlism is built on people making ‘rational’ choices. I’m not knocking it – far from it – but we have to be ourselves I would imagine to be rationally being ourselves. There are other problems and other opportunities. Now that green is green. Let’s get it. I have to admit I’m always worried when I sing the line about ‘fat face’ that someone a bit round in the audience is gonna feel like I’m talking about their fat face. No offense, seriously, i’m talking about the metaphorical fat face of the rat race, not you!

lyrics

Tip top of the world, talkin’ bout my girl/ I like to call her the captain, cause she’s wrapped in/ a shroud of mystery and I have not seen her yet/ but I bet, before the mornin’ bird gets up on the horizon/ I’ll feel just like a pup again and say the word that flies in/ the big ole fat face of the rat race and place my self in danger crazy for a stranger.

Hook:
Then I’ll fall in love
Again and again and again and again
Then I rise above when I fall in love
Again and again and again and again and again
Then I call your bluff cause enough’s enough then I fall in love
(repeat)

I make my escape on the quiet side, you’ll never know what you missed/ while you’re driving away not thinking about that time we could have kissed/ but didn’t/ cause I was too timid or you balked/ at the shine upon my face or was it the way that I talked/ to ya, do ya remember the night we met?/ and the need for love was hanging from your lips just like a cigarette/ but, I declined to light it and since you did not invite it/ what we might have been united just became another might have been/ you’ve got to play to win/ but in the shape I’m in, I’d rather make my get away and then/ cruise around the city in my grandma’s station–wagon and yes, that’s right, I’m braggin/ cause my family be draggin/ a capacity for love more then five generations deep/ and the company I keep be ensuring it will seep/ into the ground, knowing/ like water we be flowing/ from one life to the next, the only muscle that I flex/ is my heart, I’m a part of a history so brilliant/ you wanna ride with me you better be one in a million/ but if what it takes is what you’ve got, then come on over honey, let’s give it a shot.

(hook)

I started burning bridges too late/ at my gate stood six undercover lovers and a head of state/ I said “wait just a minute while I finish my dinner.” They said “hey, check out this ticket, it might be a winner.” and I said, “I don’t think so, but I’ll have a look,” And then I knew I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book/ cause they took off with my only photo ID/ oh no, then how I could I plead/ innocent when they took me/ down to the station for impersonating myself/ pulled a big book off the top of the shelf and said, “mm hm hmm.” And “ well, well well, you got twelve months to become someone else/” and I said, “aw aw! How can I be anybody but me, ain’t it a democracy? And don’t that mean that my sincerity is a matter of our national security?” and they said “hippie–dippy college student sitting on a bench, don’t you think that it would be more prudent if you didn’t mention/ the constitution or the bill of rights, cause don’t you know that retribution is what gets you through the night? Or like Robin hood, you’re gonna get your ass–kicked. If you keep on fighting the good fight even though you know that plastic baggies rule the world, the tragedy of pearls of wisdom is deep down you only care about girls.
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wildcats and sun kings

ukulele, vocals, trumpet, keyboard: jon braman
vocals: lisette braman
drums, bongos, production: brendan mccourt
vocals: lisette braman
bass: brad moore

recording
Brendan and me and Lisette (and Brad on bass) recorded this at his place in falls church over many (many) little evning session squeezed in winter spring 2007. Brendan is a great guy, and he’s always scheming and he has patience. Patience people. He doesn’t over play, but he does it just right. Makes it groove in subtle ways. He took this little fall start ‘all’ lisette sang and turned it backwards or something in the middle of that first verse. Ghostly, huh? the bongos he put on there and they just sounded so metallic and rolling, kind of like the farm.

Cliff notes
Hmmmm. Fiction, pure fiction. Though inspired by a real farm(er). Some people talk the talk. Other’s walk the walk. Live on the edge of the world and really try to do it. Dare to actually be sustainable. Self sufficient. Solar power. Grow your food. Compost the waste. recycle everything. Carry those glass milking jars carefully. Their valuable. But 100% isn’t easy. My teachers mentors and I salute. Humbly. Because the sacrifices are real. And so are the joys. That’s all I have to say. Thank you!
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don’t look back

vocals, ukulele, mandolin: jon braman vocals: lisette braman mixing: greg borenstein

lyrics
Hook:

Don’t look back But I gotta say, my head’s on backwards. I try to keep on track But all I ever hear from you are attack–words Tellin’ me telling me (repeat)

All I ever wanted in the world was to know I could do something good And to have a girl to whom I could stay close. But that’s a lie – my ambition is as high as a kite And you know my daydreams are grandiose. But what’s it to ya, anyway? I don’t have to prove myself today, Just have to get on my pony and ride. But the question in my mind is when I’ve left this all behind What kind of stuff will I have left inside?

(hook)

I got a lot of friends, they say a lot of shit to me – I got a lot of bosses, they’re all trying to make history – I got a couple choices, they both look pretty good to me I sing with a few voices, they all like to sing about being Free of the man, free without a master plan, Free to be just you and me, living off the land, If we can be really free when we’re held back from our ecstasy By these doubts about democracy and about the adequacy of our love –

(hook)

Circumnavigate the globe with me, baby. Let me dip into your mother–lode, you drive me crazy. You know I’m blessed with self–righteousness And cursed with the worst kind of confidence, I’m sitting up on the fence Trying to convince everybody that I’m a prince, So won’t you come on and swim with me, baby Let me see you ride the waves, I know you’ve got a soul to save But I want to do something for your body while the sky is hot And all this love is what I’ve got You’re the dream, you’re the cure, you got me and baby that’s for sure. (hook)
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ride on

vocals, ukulele: jon braman
guitar, percussion, production: Miche Fambro
vocals: ally way

The first verse is a story about my two grandfathers, Louis (Popu) Schaeffer and Don (Grandpa Don) Braman – both of them put together. The second verse is more about me.
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one two three

vocals, ukulele, trumpet: jon braman
drums, percussion, production: brendan mccourt
bass: brad moore

lyrics
They say “trust your gut” but I got two/ now what, what in the world am I supposed to do?/ poverty on my left, jealousy on my right/ since you broke up with me baby girl ain’t no reason to fight/ well might don’t make right but right ain’t that strong/ unless you got some kinda survival kit like a song/ well long, tall sally was an alley–cat, short fat betty wasn’t ready to be where it’s at, where I am/ stuck in the middle, with a fiddle, playing little ditties to be something pretty in this ugly city/ if the committee decided right here tonight to re–divide up all the wealth in the name of the health of the united neighborhoods, could it save the day, pave the way to some revolutionary harmony?/ well I can’t say, buddy, but how ‘bout you?/ if you were the man of the hour in power tell me what would you do?/ with all this violence, disease, bad luck and pollution/ would you give me five bucks if I had a solution?/ well that ain’t much to pay for eternal salvation but conartists grow like clovers in this overstuffed nation/ and so do the young gems out the dung heap/ people time and time again who stand up and take the leap to say:

“one two three, follow me, brother” never works but “Two three four, just ignore the problem” is even worse so four five six, what’s the trick to achieving the right mix of a quick fix and a slow struggle

The world works one by one or about five million at a time/ can I make you think with a hand shake like I make you drink of my rhyme?/ do you want a firm grip or soft skin? How about a tough tip, tell you where I’ve been/ I’ve been all over the globe and around the block/ people don’t answer the door just because you knock/ but if you stop giving then the dying starts/ sometimes it feels like just living is a dying art/ I’ve got a lion heart and a pair of monkey hands/ along with a funky understanding of what it means to be a man in a land where overblown testosterone has shown us all how much bad a man in a throne can do acting like a lone–star/ for my own part I work hard, fight hard, love hard, play hard, barbeque peppers in my back yard/ no meat for today, though honestly I love the taste, because we’ve got to find a way that we can cut down on the waste instead of cutting down the forest or some other holy place for grazing cows/ its amazing how everytime you take a step there’s some molecule across the earth that somehow gets affected/ the rule seems to be once you’ve perfected an art or finished school you’d be a fool to not stand up and play the part/ but what if you don’t see how all the jigsaw pieces fit/ and you don’t want to be a Mr. who just takes his share of it without taking care of it, better beware of it, or if you dare to quit, be sure that your abandonment don’t hurt it more than it help it, if you feel me help me tell it like it (is)

“one two three, follow me, brother” never works but “Two three four, just ignore the problem” is even worse so four five six, what’s the trick to achievin’ the right mix of a quick fix and a slow struggle
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guru

vocals, ukulele, bass, percussion, production, etc: jon braman
vocals: lisette braman

lyrics

boodoodbabababdodbaodbdoddoodwabadayda da da

i met you at the moment rain turned into snow, said "you wanna go back to my place and drink a bowl of cocoa?" oh no, am i going loco for the this lady so so fast? i’ve only been solo since last week, but you know i can’t keep my dreams to myself, she said "please help yourself, there’s a box on the shelf, why not at least share the wealth?" i think i was hearing bells, but the landlady smelled something funny coming from the other room, peaked under the window, kicked us out the next afternoon. i was like, "oh well–" wasn’t too early to tell that baby living without you would be hell.

cause you’re my guru my rugu my shoobeedoowop pop stop before i get a booboo cause you knew just what to do: voodoo, it’s up to you, true blue and stuck like glue cause i must have you....my....

boodoobapo ba do ba dabda bdo.....

well there was something between us and nothing inbetween, know what i mean? lean mean rabble rousing machines. well you remember the scene, right? it was halloween night, and you looked so dream like, queen like, it was almost movie–screen like, when you gave me the green light to hook up my steam–pipe, and i could have beamed right up up to heaven no second guessing no stressing no lessons learned from past transgressions, the last weapon in the battle against depression is re–setting, and you keep letting on that your feelings are getting strong, maybe we’re getting to where we belong, getting up at the break of dawn, to catch you getting out of the shower with your towel on, smile on, and i’m thinking, "how long can these wonders pile on?" but anyway meanwhile, lets ride on, uh.

cause your my guru...

life life is long longer than this song as long as it takes to make it to find where we belong

love love is true true as me and you and blue as you’d be knowing there’s nothing you could do
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climatastrophunk

vocals, ukulele: jon braman
bass, production: nima gonvalu
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hot shock outro

vocals, ukulele: jon braman
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re re revolution

vocals, ukulele, slide uke: jon braman
production, vocals, organ: arthur lewis
beatbox, sound fx: shockwave

lyrics

Hook:
I wanted a mess I wanted a ruin I wanted a re re revolution I didn’t know what I was doing I knew I could make it sing I wanted my health, a little bit of wealth, maybe a house house by the ocean Peace release at least a peace of you’re your everything.

Well, I had to go to school/ for three thousand years/ and graduate to the cheers of all my friends and my peers/ to hear these sweet street beats b–bouncing in my ears/ to take away all of my fears so now wherever I roam, I’m headed home. It’s not a physical place/ it’s just the way your eyes look when they’re filled with grace/ it takes one to write a song, two to do the tango, three to pass it on and the world to let it grow/ so.I read a tome/ I history book/ and it said, everybody looked the way we look before they took their last breath/ and I confess I got a little bit stressed, depressed, vexed, perplexed and upset/ cause you can bet your bottom dollar/ a lot of pops were yellin, “holla!” when they saw the fall of Rome/ oops I meant to say New York/ so come on and dip your fork into this big apple pie/ it’s made from red, white and blue berries and some terror in the sky/ I heard you cry, “why oh why do they hate us?” you want to sit and debate US? come on, man, wake up!/ in a world that’s so degraded, look, somebody’s cup is overflowing/ knowing, everything we prize, we got because we mind–controlled, we sold, we colonized/ with French fries and coke, I know it sounds like a joke, who woulda thought we coulda broke the atmosphere with this smoke? But we did, quid pro quo, bro/ I could say it’s just as well if the U, S of A is on a crash–course with hell, but like my daddy always say, nobody but time can tell/ and I knew too many folks to close to where those towers fell.

hook Yeah yeah y yeah yeah yeah

Let me take you back behind enemy lines/ where I was sittin in a trench/ counting up uncounted votes and trying not to note the stench/ of the poor rotting corpses of idealist lost to the cause/ they got tossed to the struggle/ cris–crossed by the rubble/ I hate to burst your bubble – I was thirsty for trouble/ when I, went out one evening, moonlight shining in my face/ to meet my main man Jakey and the usual meeting place/ well jake was looking shaky/ I wondered if he could do what it would take/ but I determined not to break the plans I held inside my briefcase/ the place was crowded so we went to the snack bar/ made sure to sit back far/ so nobody could track our/ deliberations which were of a somewhat subversive nature/ to reverse the legislature, there wasn’t a minute to hesitate, you know what I mean? But jakey was green, he hadn’t seen the things I’d seen/ was just his luck, got stuck between a rock and an organizer/ wiser men would have seen the crash and burn, maybe turned the other cheek/ but every worm’s an early riser, jakey turned to me to speak, he said, “I’m scared.” I said, “It’s about time, it’s something we all go through. But it goes away in about a day if you drink lots of orange juice –” He said, “Fuck you! I’m being real! It’s just that I don’t really feel so grand, taking a stand, day after day, head in the sand, with my own brand of propaganda, not even trying to understand why everyone looks at me as a nuisance, but I don’t know what to do, since I built my whole identity on the idea that serenity came from doing what’s right and fighting the good fight, whatever the cost, who’s go the heart to start a battle knowing you’ve already lost?”

Hook:

I said, “jakey take a load off, you’re makin’ my head hurt/ it’s gonna get better but first it’s gonna get worse, reverse your expectations, man/ cause if revolution didn’t hurt/ how would you know that it was working?/ so Jakey put your face, put your face in the dirt/ cause it’s amazing the earth, the blazing sky and the birds, the symphonies and the words, are all we’ve got so we’ve got to give it a shot/ there’s not time to rest, the best dressed is pressed the limit/ put your chest down in it/ and take a breath of the death/ that’s the system breaking down so when you’re making the rounds. That’s what you’re working to take down/ that’s why the earth quaking makes a beautiful sound/ when you’ve been fucking around as long as I’ve been around/ and you found your personal life is quite a reasonable price/ not much of a sacrifice/ for sort of an afterlife/ so your kids and grandkids, they’re gonna remember what you did/ take a wiff down low/ then raise your head to the sky/ and if you know what I know then swear to fight till you die.boo chicka da dap dada boo dwoo.. Yeah yeah yeah y yeah.
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remedy

vocals, ukulele, cutting and looping: jon braman
vocals, percussion, dying elephants: cary clarke
vocals, sousaphone, other wierdness?: ethan chessin
production and percussion: chris andersen

lyrics
(intro) My buddy, my man, my partner, my dude, my homey, my first compadre, no kind of emotion or reason or logic can explain the way that we linked it we locked it –– My buddy my brother my brah, I’ll never be lonely if I can call ya and talk some weird nonsensical shit that nobody else gets, this is it and I wanna say...

I remember when we first met it was maybe August or September, whatever, cause I had my uke, you had your accordion and it was no surprise that we would be friends. Walking round campus jamming out on those things, people thought we were freaks but we knew we were kings of the underground, chasing that other sound, if they’d be white, we’d be black, if they’re red we’d be brown. Hell, we’d even be lost just to say that we weren’t found following, pride never swallow it, knock on our skulls you know they won’t be hollow, cause we had that juice, that hot sauce that f–funkiest fruit on the planet, no one else could stand it, but we would demand it, don’t dare try to hand us some sheet music canned, everything was unplanned and spontaneous, crazy, just maybe extraneous. But never quite famous, no one clique could claim us, and only being normal would shame us. Don’t look at our wardrobes cause man it was heinous. In chemistry entropy set us free – the letters we scrambled the melody mixed up and baby you better be ready cause if it ain’t heavenly we got the remedy.

Oh buddy you call me your friend
let’s just say I I’ll be there when
you draw your line down in the sand....oh oh oh

Oh buddy I call you my friend
let’s just say you you’ll be there when
I take my dive off the deep end
but there’s an ocean between us...

Some people are boring but wear crazy clothes. Some people are crazy but turn up their nose at anything smacking of abnormal packaging, look at me rapping, clearly I ain’t African American but then again I’m sharing my soul quite explicitly with this here history. If anyone’s listening, stick with me.

You were a tougher nut to crack. I’d lived with you six months before I knew you ac–actually liked me but man it was cool. I liked you already you had that control. The feeling of having the globe in the palm of your mind and I knew that in time we would wind up entwined in some sort of familial thing. I’ll just be duke, man, and you can be king. But then there was the evening I came home crying, cause that lady’d ripped out my heart by lying, or maybe it was just that I’d been trying a little too hard. You said, "I know you’re generous with those that you love, but sometimes you gotta be tough, because if someone ain’t capable of returning that love, you gotta move on." and I knew that you were right, but I couldn’t quite take your advice, not that night or even that year, but look how those training wheels brought us here...and even though sometimes I know it feels like we’re moving in slow motion, look at you rise, and look in my eyes and promise me you’ll never compromise...

(chorus)

(outro) My buddy, my man, my partner, my dude, my homey, my first compadre, no kind of emotion or reason or logic can explain the way that we linked it we locked it –– My buddy my brother my brah, I’ll never be lonely if I could call ya, and talk some wierd nonsensical shit that nobody else gets this is it and wanna say...

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