available now: a unique, limited-edition new multi-disc release
Electric Gauchos Box Set CD8: Secret Songs
CD8 (physical) is available via direct mail order
also available via most world-wide music services
However: if you appreciate this work, please buy directly from the Artist
Buy CD1 directly here via PayPal, $15.00 + shipping.
Or you can pre-purchase the full box set:
Audition: Electric Gauchos Box Set
nine CDs in a bold beautiful box
| Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Songs | |||||||
| CD1 | CD2 | CD3 | CD4 | CD5 | CD6 | CD7 | CD8 | CD9 | ||
© Ballistic Music
CD8: Secret Songs
Electric Gauchos Box Set
Electric Gauchos Box Set
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Horacio Pozzo, Fernando Kabusacki, Igor Abuladze, Steve Ball
Brock Avery, Fernando Samalea, Bob Williams, Doug Erickson
also featuring Stephen Thompson on single-take improvised flute, sax, and cello
Jaxie Binder on confident violin
with Paul O'Rear, Rob Taylor-Manning, Sandra Prow
Jaxie Binder, Julia Zenteno, and Sofie Ball on backing vocals
and please don't forget Jane Siberry on spoken interstitials
CD8 songs, vocals, melodies, lyrics and Song Tiles by Steve Ball
CD 8 backing tracks, improvised
Tues Wed and Thurs May 27 - 29th, 2014
Creatio Studio, Kirkland WA
Recording Engineer: Steve Smith
Mixed and Produced by: Steve Ball
back to steveball.com
YouTube Teaser
Maturin: CD8 Track 1
holding earth in its place
burning out of her shell
from her deep winter spell
only to rain down thunder and shock
stronger than stick or sword stuck in some rock
not like the end we read in the book
two tiny threads
keeping us in our place
we'll break out of our shell
from our deep winter spell
so let’s slide off her back
and let's chug her bitter pill
head and hooves, tail of calf
can you hear mother's laugh?
stuffing up with steam
teflon teeth so truth won't touch her
words gently down the drain
water on the brain
new three letter words for torture
puppets punch drunk drinking living water
trading drafty shady crafty laughter
chasing dizzy dirty rock star dollars
proudly pawning last years' leash and collars now
sad slumping in a chair
trading on despair
channeling a salty sailor
cat burning roof of tin
reference sinking in
biting like a young Liz Taylor
pennies pawned in Ponce de Leon's fountain
shark teeth found on top of Tiger Mountain
desperate drowned in fractured fiction focus
minted manufactured Megalodon moments
dull marching dead for dimes
numb from empty rhymes
falling for her propaganda
failed faking perfect crimes
don't look past the blinds
move along there's nothing to see here
she will grow to be her mother's daughter
dropping near the tree but swimming farther down
all the butter notes starting to run
numb red
through wet withering wires bled
replay the day
all the dissonances fade away
let go of the barbed wired words said
mirror on the wall
are you smiling to soften my fall into
nine foot nails
ten tarantulas train their tails
rewind the tapes
are we merely rearranging shapes
lay low 'til the cheerleaders say so
mother may I say
are you painting pink shades over gray?
numb coal
to paint over my black hole
remember me
always bathing in your irony
lost claws sharpened jumping shark slack jaws
I breathe your air
I’m in your gas tank
I’m what you wear
I buy your houses
I shop your malls
I read your diary
I trace your calls
but you can’t see me in the dark
so I will start a fire
you sign my contract, you shine my shoes
I fill your tummy, I pay your dues
form your opinions, I plant the seed
where you are empty, I fill the need
if you could see me all would stop
you would feel my power
and when you see me I will spark
I will start a fire
start it now
inside your thinking
inside your head
when you are sleeping
I’m in your bed
I am your broadcast
you spread my news
you make decisions
I help you choose
but you can’t see me in the dark, so I will start a fire
you can’t see me, I am dark, I will start a fire
I can't see that far
do you know how long you'll be staying
I don't care how long
keep your hat and coat in my closet
they'll be safe in there
take your hands from out of your pockets
there's Work for you here
I'm out in the yard keeping my plants growing
keep up on my guard, won't ever catch me slowing down
here all of my tools, I'll show you what we can do
outside of this school
and if it gets hard, don't say I told you so
hold onto your heart, become a greenthumb
plants aren't very smart
someone must help them to grow when it gets dark
turn on your light and get started
listen in silence
she's in the shadow
her words are weightless and wise
ran out of limbs to count the
dozens on thousands of hours of endless
meditating medicating wasted waiting for her
sandpapered days to years
rasp hammered dreams now tears
fleeting empty bit flipping
clueless shape shifting
fifty years disappeared
so tell me where's the orchestra?
why no lens flaring?
who is in this backing band?
there must be a credits roll
teared reciprocal smiling eyes to feel
five grand grains of sand that used to be in this empty hand
un-cluster a nip tuck re-flustered clear cluck up
now night time is white time redefined as mainstream
who wound up the punchline rehashing sick suck up
but don't blame the snow-blind impostor disaster
whose braille trail a red nail a master of blackmail
a shot stump a small lump a short bunt to short stop
a mall cop a quick stop a slapstick a big top
waiting debating degrading deflating
impossible impassible implausible dumb imbecile
trading invading reciting deceiving: stop
hands up we gave up and swallowed some hot steel
for prime times and cash outs on black males and book deals
all souls trained on red tracks and fame trains of lame brains
a body count a dismount some slim jims with toothy grins
no last words no song birds a lost cause a fools pause
one more lost a bad boss one cold case a coin toss
a slick trick a pin prick a sick joke a cow poke
whose small-towny tall talk spilled blood on the corn stalk
trusting busting dusting disgusting shock
we see you we know you we show you we blow you
some kisses some wishes that crack in our dishes
recording reporting distorting deporting
deciding debating inflating evading
so cling to and sing to this soundtrack this slow glow
then hijack the back stack and get back the mojo
but don't fear the truth dear a bum steer the paper smear
all free pressed with knee chest who shear sheep in deep sleep
waiting debating deflating degrading
minimal subliminal erasable no criminal
failing falling killing calling: I can't breathe
she just cleared your credit with one debit
all will fall out in the final edit
her coffin needs one more nail
empty evil eye
and a zig zag bite
no time for last remorses
no flash between your eyes
if you give her the inch
she'll chew a thousand miles
'til your heart is in shreds
and mona lisa smiles
an angel in the attic
enables this entertainment addict
so drink up until your liver's has more than had it
deep under water again
one more drink
one last fight
why worry, no one's counting
I'll start tomorrow night
if I had one more chance I'd give it away
pure unpolished bliss
pre-scored improvised
discord harmonized
here we go
was 1981 a "ha" by Laurie Anderson
disoriented radio reformed the song-y formula
and reinvented reinvention
not sure that was her intention
but she shattered the convention
and inspired some dissention
in my composition classes
where the Dinner forecast partly Crimson
partly Andre partly Simpsons life in hell
was complaining drawn by Groening
and drew an introvert out of his shell
now head is red and my wrists are tied
and my French is stale and my fingers fried
and I can't unwind my manic laser mind
but who can I blame for how I was designed?
so now it's wake up time
and what's ahead is behind
so need to catch up maybe patch up
all the mess up and the f-up from
a decade gone missing gone fishing
caught wishing that right had been wrong or
we had more than this song
was I born for this?
is this all there is?
who will grant my wish?
who will clean this dish?
sucking sticking finger licking
chicken pickin’ crafty picking
tracking lacking solid booking
cooking rocking, always looking
was 1989 and we were walking the line
almost heaven in a mansion in a barn with an extension
of a teaching from the twenties pointy seeing humans being
over reaching while undoing lazy playing bogo touring
just a midwest boy who fell out of Illinois
with hit or miss wish list and a post farm job Fish list
corn fed peapod goodwill Godspell
an uphill road worn rockslide road kill
so raise a Champaign toast to a ghost of Urbana
virtually spiritual but not that into Santana
followed Gauchos heroes trading startups for zeros
played the palace in Dallas to peach streets of Atlanta
is this all there is?
re-mash and remix
now my ghost is near but the coast is clear
and bank is blank as the cost was dear
and there is no one to pay so let's just give it away
and let our work be the Work so we continue to play
together