“STAGE PATTER”

“STAGE PATTER”
for
Continental Club show
During
SXSW
March 21, 2009
Austin, Texas


Well here we go…it’s 5:30AM on March 17th. I’ve been laying here with my mind frying thoughts of potential performance mishaps like eggs in a hot greasy skillet since 3:45.

Practice with the band yesterday was frightening to say the least, as we were making a lot of composition mistakes. The only redemption in my mind comes with hanging on to faith that these awesome veterans will wing it really well and pull me through this petrifying and delightful
Plimpton-esque fiasco I’ve gotten myself into again.

I am scared shitless and that means that I am fully engaged and deeply invested in the process of creating something bigger than myself so, paradoxically, all of the angst that I’m experiencing right now is a very good sign.

Fifteen years ago my dear pal and fellow Himalayan trekking troubadour, Jeff Ragsdale and I did something like this in San Antonio at a place called Jump Start performance space.

We were to be the opening act for Joe Ely and Terry Allen. I had never done anything like that before other than playing solo at one of my art openings.

Jeff flew in from New York to accompany me. He graciously coached me by telling me about this thing called “stage patter” where you talk a little bit between songs…What he didn’t tell me about was when to quit… To say the least I over way did it

After hearing a recording of the performance, which was more patter than music (yikes!), I became very self-conscious about talking too much.

SO I’VE DECIDED TO WRITE IT.

I’ll try to go easy on you on stage, but you must know, it’s been a long time and I have a lot on my mind these days.


WHAT TO DO?

My wise cousin Joe once remedied a tough dilemma that I was going through by telling me to do what would make me most happy when I looked back on that event at eighty years old.

Today will certainly bring a smile to my cracked up old face one day, and I want to thank you for going to all the trouble to be here to share this “happening” with me.

AND WHY?

But why have I gone to all this trouble in a tiny little old bar??

Well there are two reasons…

The first is because back in November, I was giving an interactive neon glassblowing demonstration of how to twist neon glass tubing.

“What is that all about?” you might ask…Well, I’ve been doing this for years with people, it’s a lot of fun because everyone who wants to, actually gets to try their hand at playing with molten glass over a really hot fire…I call it my 1000-degree dog & pony show. It’s kind of scary and a lot of fun to do. The best part is that most everyone enjoys this experience, from an 9 year old to the most up tight 54 year old who becomes an excited kid again in about 10 minutes. Also when I include the participant’s work in a sculpture, it really enhances the experience of ownership, because fish always taste better when you catch them yourself.

Ask me about this later.
512-447-9915
Or on the web at:
www.beneon.com

So I’m doing this demo and I notice a familiar looking woman, (Emily is her name) in the audience looking at me, she looked very surprised and happy to see me. I looked away and then back again and she was gone. I didn’t give it any more thought. Then, a few minutes later during a break, she and her husband appear, both with a huge smile on their faces. She threw her arms around me as she exclaimed loudly “Look Bill he IS alive! I told you he wasn’t dead!” I knew it! I knew you weren’t!!

Oh my God, we were so worried Ben, every time we’d drive by your old studio and see that you gone after all those years and then all that construction…We were just sick about the whole thing and then Bill would just shake his head and say I bet he’s rolling over in his grave about all this…”

WHAT????
….Wait a minute lady!!!

I thought to myself. “Jesus! I gotta get out more”!!

AND THE OTHER REASON IS..

Because I’ve been dormant for a while… I’ve been through some changes and ruminating on many levels about things, for reasons that I do and don’t know much about.

Trees drop their leaves for the winter so they can focus and draw strength from what lies deep in the dark and fertile underground. When the sun gets higher in the sky and springtime arrives, the mighty tree combines stored forces of nature from her roots and new leaves so she can produce an explosion of blossoms in order to project new life into the future.

That is so huge!

I’ve made a concerted effort to make a really big deal out of this show for the exact same reason…I have to say that I’ve pulled out all the stops, as if this show was going to tour all of the major museums. I am very pleased with the outcome.

These days, I feel like a root bound tree that was just planted in fertile ground. This spring, I am in full bloom just for you, precious honeybees!

That said, I AIN’T DEAD YET!

THE MUSIC…

As a kid, I was always charmed by people who had some music in them.
I always really liked the thought of how some people are walking around with some extra sparkle in their treasure chest.

It didn’t really have as much to do with how well they sang or played, to me, it was all about that moment of total un-self consciousness when one is lost in song. I love that!

And I have discovered why people do this, it’s because it feels soo good!

Just incase you’re wondering, I wrote all these songs.

I’ve always kept a journal. Many years ago, I had an idea about how to attempt to strengthen my pitiful memory, and that was to write & play songs from various journal excerpts.

I guess you could say that these songs are more like 3-minute episodes of my own personal reality show.

MUSIC & THE SHOW

Thanks to my dear wife and my friend Jim Leonard’s suggestion, I’ve called in the benevolent forces of great musicians to help polish up my favorite songs, put them in a nice frame and perform them as eleven additional works of art to the show.

THE SONGS.

“GOLFERS ARE FAT”

- A satire…

Golfers are fat.
And they think that it’s fantastic.
They’ve figured out a way to play
without giving anything away.
Their funny colored pants are elastic.

They knock their balls around
with all their soul.
All the way to the 19th hole
Golfers are fat.

Shopping malls are fun.
Yes malls are real exciting.
Where all the people look the same,
advertising is to blame
and all that weird fluorescent lighting.
We go to buy things there on sale
and eat fast food that’s stale.
Shopping malls are fun.

My other car’s a Rolls
Don’t laugh man, it’s paid for!
If I could paint over these rust holes
And have the doctor
burn off these moles,
Maybe I’d get laid more…

Oh I owe I owe I owe,
so off to work I go
My other car’s a Rolls.


“TRUST YOUR EQUIPMENT”
© 1992 Ben Livingston

-When I was younger and feeling troubled by some rather disturbing news about the state of my health. This was a problem solving song.

I don’t know nothing’
I used to think that I did
Everything came so easy when I was a kid
Now I find it pretty noble
Just getting’ through the day
Lately they seem so long
While on my back I lay

As my mind wanders back to that zero hour
When the load of life broke under the wheels of power
The gears started slipping,
I couldn’t get out of the way
Lost both of my legs
And it ruined my whole day.

I saw white
And I saw black
I’d give half of my life
Just to turn that clock back
I thought I’d never loose it
I was so defiant
Now I’m my doctor’s worst patient
And my lawyer’s favorite client

While my mind wanders back to that zero hour
When the load of life broke under the wheels of power
Those gears they started slipping,
I couldn’t get out of the way
shook down my spirit
and left me cryin’ all the live long day

They tell me I was lucky
Yeah, compared to what?
Now all I got left is religion
But I’m just a spiritual slut
When you’re all broke down
You better have spare parts in your head
Trust in your equipment
And run a mile right there in your bed

So try to keep your mind from wandering back to that zero hour
When the load of life broke under the wheels of power
When those gears start a slipping, you better get out of the way
Trust your own equipment
And run a mile every day


“EVIL SPIRITS”
© 1993 Ben Livingston

-Here’s a little ditty about a life of drinking too much booze.

Well this house was haunted
from the first day I could tell
There’s evil spirits
they’re risin’ from Hell
They’re comin’ after me
and they want me to pay,
that’s when I reach
for that old bottle and start to pray!
There’s evil spirits
I can feel em’ now
inside my body
from the stern to the bow
I can’t relate
so I just don’t par-tic-i-pate
I just sit in this glass house
and masturbate

There’s evil spirits!

Well it’s Saturday night
and I’m alone again
The girls won’t have me,
but I’ve got my gin
Last one who left me Lord,
she made me go all-numb
So it’s yo-ho-ho,
and a bottle of rum!

There’s evil spirits
all up inside my head
I isn’t Jethro ya’ll,
and I sure ain’t Jed.
Every time I try to drive
I can’t help but swerve
And the only reflecting I do,
is in that green glass curve

There’s evil spirits!

Har har
Shiver me timbers mate..Arrgh!

There’s evil spirits
Lord, I can feel em’ now
inside my body,
from the stern to the bow.
My eyes were red,
when the smoke began to rise
Well hot damn man,
Maybe I’m the poltergeist!

There’s evil spirits!
Har har
Shiver me timbers mate..Arrgh!



“VOLCANO + TORNADO”
© Ben Livingston 1993

-This one is dedicated to all my ex-girlfriends who I told that I wrote this song for…


She was just like a volcano,
She stored up heat
way down inside.
You know me,
I’m just a big ol’ tornado…
spinning wild across
the countryside.

And I think I know why,
But I just can’t always see
how things fall right into place
if you can just let them be…

Maybe she’s looking for a Pompeii
Who’s dying to be flooded
by her fiery rain.
Not me, man,
just let me go to Kansas,
for her wide open prairies,
where I can shake out my mane!

And I think I know why,
But I just can’t always see,
How things fall right into place
If you can just let them be…

Well somewhere between
Pompeii & Kansas,
maybe we’ll meet up again
in the land of second chances,
where your fires burn hot
while my wild wind dances
across the sands of time
down on the beach by Port Aransas..
And I think I know why,
But I just can’t always see,
How things fall right into place
If you can just let them be…


“Smart fools from Art Schools”
© 1992 Ben Livingston

-This is about the frustrating dilemma of trying to be an artist from the “outside in”...instead of from the “inside out”.

WELL THESE ART SCHOOL FOLKS
SUFFER LIFE'S CRUEL JOKES
THAT KEEP US FROM FINDING OURSELVES
PARALYZED BY ROMANCE
KEEPS US FROM OUR OWN DANCE
WHILE WE'RE TRYING TO BE SOMEBODY ELSE

SUCKED IN BY THE MYSTIQUE
AND HAMMERED BY A CRITIQUE
IT'S A CALDRON THAT'S A BIG CENTRIFUGE
AND IF YOU GOT NO AMBITION
THEN YOU WAS ONLY TUITION
THAT JUST WOUND UP SINGING THE BLUES

SMART FOOLS
FROM ART SCHOOLS
YOU THINK YOU'RE WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
SPORTIN' ALL THE LATEST FASHION
INSTEAD OF DOING YOUR LIFE'S PASSION
I WONDER WHAT'S BEHIND YOUR DISGUISE

JEAN PAUL SATRE
WAS AT THE DEPARTMENT OF ART
BUT HE COULDN'T FIND HIS WAY
OUT THE DOOR
SO HE CONFIDED IN BEUYS
WHO MADE A TERRIBLE NOISE
AS HE THREW A HAND FULL OF LARD
ON THE FLOOR

WELL AS HE PICKED UP A PELT
HE DESCRIBED HOW HE FELT
FOR REASONS SATRE COULD NOT IGNORE
HE SAID, "IF I WERE YOU JEAN"
I'D JUST HIKE UP MY BLUE JEANS
AND TRY NOT TO BE SUCH A BORE

SMART FOOLS
FROM ART SCHOOLS
YOU THINK YOU'RE WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
WELL THE REAL EXISTENTIALS
AREN'T DRINKING COFFEE
DOWN AT WINCHELL'S
THEY'RE WITH MOJO
PICKIN' AT THEIR TEETH WITH A KNIFE

MARCEL DUCHAMP
HAD A NUDIST CAMP
'CAUSE HE JUST LOVED PLAYIN' CHESS
WITH ALL THE GALS
BUT IF YOU PEEKED THROUGH HIS FENCE
OOOH, YOU'D PROBABLY WINCE
AT THE WAY THAT HE TREATED ALL HIS PALS

YOU SEE, SOME WERE DESCENDING
AND OTHERS, THEY WERE MENDING
ALL THOSE CLOTHES THAT THEIR BACHELOR'S HAD STRIPPED BARE
AND IF THEY LOOKED KIND OF COLD
IT'S 'CAUSE MICHAEL TRACY STOLE
ALL OF THEIR BLOOD AND THEIR PUBIC HAIR

SMART FOOLS
FROM ART SCHOOLS
YOU THINK YOU'RE WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
SPORTIN' ALL THE LATEST FASHION
INSTEAD OF DOING YOUR LIFE'S PASSION
I WONDER HOW YOU'LL EVER SURVIVE

NOW IF ACADEMIA CALLS
FROM IT'S ECHOING HALLS
DON'T BE ASHAMED BY THIS SONG
TAKE IT THERE WITH
MAYBE YOU CAN START YOUR OWN MYTH
THAT IS IF YOU'VE GOT THE BALLS

TO BE A SMART FOOL
FROM ART SCHOOLS
ALWAYS TRYIN' TO SEPARATE
FROM THIS WORLD
WHY NOT BE A PART,
LET YOUR LIFE BE THE FINE ART
SO QUIT ACTING LIKE SUCH A BUNCH OF LITTLE OL' SQUIRRELS!
I KNOW MY VOICE,
IT AIN'T AS GOOD AS MERRILL'S

AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE
A DRUM MAJOR-ETTE TO TWIRL
UNH UH!


“SOMEWHERE DOWN THIS ROAD”
© Ben Livingston 2003

-I was meditating a lot in those days.

Well I think I look the same,
All my friends still recognize me.
But I really don’t feel the same,
Something’s going on inside me.

I used to pull a heavy load,
I always pushed into today.
But I traded that in for gold,
just to get pulled away…

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this road.

Are we really here?
All strangers to this ride?
I’m trying to be on this train,
instead of just watching her roll on by…

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this road.

It’s up to us to choose…
You are my sunshine or the blues.
Either way we win,
learn it now,
or just do it again…

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this road.

So what do we do now?
Just look at that horizon!
The sun’s coming up somewhere
and somewhere, it’s going down…

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this ro-oh-oh-oh-oad

Somewhere down this road.



“WALKING TO SAN ANTONIO”
© 2003 Ben Livingston

-Even more meditation…

Walking to San Antonio,
It’s a circuitous road to my soul.
Walking to San Antonio,
Spiral rings around a pot of gold.

Walking to San An,
Walking to San An,
Walking to San An
Were Walking to San Antonio.

The smoke alone
makes me want to quit,
Burning those piles
of trash from inside.
And the hardest thing
for me to admit,
Is that I hate the journey,
but I LOVE the ride.

Walking to San An,
Walking to San An,
Walking to San An
Were Walking to San Antonio.

It’s just a little walk in the park,
That first step is all it takes.
And once you get
less afraid of the dark,
you’re gonna find
that there are no mistakes.

Walking to San An,
Walking to San An,
Walking to San An
Were Walking to San Antonio.



“BROKEN MAN’S DREAM”
© 2001 Ben Livingston

-This lament is about my poor sweet daddy.


HE DIED ALONE IN A MOTEL ROOM
JUST THE WAY HE LIVED HIS LIFE
A COLD A/C AND A WARTIME HISTORY SHOW
PLAYING ON HIS TV

THE WAR, IT ENDED
ALONG WITH HIS YOUNG LIFE
HIM, JUST WAITING IN LINE

HE WANTED THOSE WINGS SO HE COULD FLY AWAY FROM ALL OF THOSE THINGS
THAT HURT HIM SO BAD INSIDE

SO MUCH PAIN
SO DEEP INSIDE
TWISTED AND BENT FROM ALL THE LIED THAT HE TIED
TIED SO TIGHT ALL AROUND HIS PRIDE
TO PROTECT THAT SWEET AND LONELY HEART
HE ALWAYS TRIED SO HARD TO HIDE

(SOLO BREAK)


HE LEFT US ALONE TO REMEMBER HIM
IN THE WAYS THAT WE WILL
WE GET TOGETHER SOMETIMES WHEN THE MOON IS FULL
HE’S BECOME THE KING OF MY HILL

BUT HE WAITED TOO LONG TO FIND
THINGS AREN’T ALWAYS AS THEY SEEM
SO HE GO TO STAR AS THE LOUDEST PANTOMIME
IN A BROKEN MAN’S DREAM

SO MUCH PAIN
SO DEEP INSIDE
TWISTED AND BENT FROM ALL THE LIED THAT HE TIED
TIED SO TIGHT ALL AROUND HIS PRIDE
TO PROTECT THAT SWEET AND LONELY HEART
HE ALWAYS TRIED SO HARD TO HIDE



“LIKE YOU DO”
© 1999 Ben Livingston

-I love my Patti!

Nothing to do,
and no one
to do nothing with,
I think of you,
even when I’m feeling like this.
‘Cause no one gets me to thinking,
and no one gets me to feeling,
and no one gets me to loving
like you do.

You take your time,
I’d a crashed a long time ago.
And when you make up your mind
It sure seems like the right way to go.

‘Cause no one gets me to thinking,
and no one gets me to feeling,
and no one gets me to loving
like you do.

When that moon is full and rising,
my mind slips back across our time.
And oh, you are so appetizing…
Baby, you can drive me plum out of my mind!

When I hold you close,
You’re always right there with me.
Smelling like a rose,
We’ve come out cleaner
than the laundry.
‘Cause no one gets me to thinking,
and no one gets me to feeling,
and no one gets me to loving
like you do.



“FLEMMING PRARIE”
© 2008 Ben Livingston

May God rest her fine soul.


I WANT ME SOME IMMEDIATE GRATIFICATION
IF I DON’T FIND ME SOME SOON
I’M GONNA TAKE MYSELF ANOTHER LONG VACATION
IT’S BEEN DAY IN AND DAY OUT
AS I GAZE IN AND DAZE OUT

SHE WAS A SEARCHING VINE
MARRIED TO THE KING
I ONCE SAW HER REACHING FOR HEAVEN
THROUGH THE WAY THAT SHE LOOKED AT THINGS

HOP UP ON THAT TUNA FISH CAN
I BET YOU CAN SEE A HUNDRED MILES
ACROSS THAT DRIED UP COLETTO CREEK BED
THAT’S CRACKED INTO A BILLION TILES

SHE GOT ME TO LOOK
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE BIT DEEPER
INSIDE

I’M HUNGRY FOR A MIDNIGHT SNACK
ONE’LL CHASE THAT MONKEY OFF MY BACK
STILL LOOKING TO TURN A CHEAP TRICK
STILL LOOKING TO GET RICH QUICK

BUT SHE GOT ME TO LOOK
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE BIT DEEPER
INSIDE

FLEMMING PRARIE GRASS STILL DOES A HULA DANCE
WITH THAT SOUTH TEXAS BREEZE SO FINE
I ‘M HERE TO TELL YOU ALL THAT MADELINE O’CONNOR
SHE WAS A FRIEND OF MINE

SHE GOT ME TO LOOK
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE
SHE GOT ME TO LOOK A LITTLE BIT DEEPER
INSIDE


“WE’RE ALL IN THIS ALONE”
© Ben Livingston June 8, 1999

-From even more meditating.
(With special thanks to Jane Wagner and Lili Tomlin)


I come
you go
it really don’t matter what you know
Just remember
we're all in this alone

I stay
you leave
it really don’t matter what we believe
Remembering that
we're all in this alone

(chorus)
From the first bright light
in the delivery room
To that tunnel of white,
two days before the tomb
la la la la la

Plant seeds or pull weeds
it don't matter they're all good deeds
Just remember
we're all in this alone

Take flight
or stay and fight!
Just try and make it matter
with all your might
and remember
we're all in this alone

(chorus)
From that first drop of milk
to your last pack of cigarettes
Do you really think you were the one
who laid down all your bets?
la la la la la

(SOLO)

(chorus)
Some suffer for years
before the big grim reep
Others are more lucky
they just croak right in thier sleep
la la la la la

I come
you go
It really DOES matter what we know.


George Plimpton is a hero of mine. He liked to try out things that interested him and then wrote about it.

I’ve loved that idea ever since I was a kid because as a “sprinter” as opposed to a “long distance runner” type personality, it seemed to be a great solution to dealing with a head full of ideas driven by the attention span of a gnat.

So today, I am here for the grand finale - a sprint to the finish of a very intense and fascinating process, My goal was basically to finagle my way into playing my own gig smack-dab in the middle of the most famous live music event in the world…SXSW…And now we are all here together on record during this event.

IN CONCLUSION

Please note that your parking ticket will be validated upon a generous donation to the tip jar….

Thank you for coming out!

-Yours ‘till Victoria Falls,

XOB