Playing your own music is incredibly satisfying.  I feel very fortunate to have stuck with playing music as a hobby, it has opened doors and I know of no better way to occupy time.

Someday I will give myself the gift of taking these songs to task, rent a studio and give them the full treatment but until then I have a couple basement recordings of some original stuff.

Thanksgiving Anthem

Here is my contrubatuion to a holiday that deserves more heralding. 

The Heart of Carnegie

Albert Carnegie is an alcoholic bum who dies on the eve of Halloween.  In memoriam, his children dump whiskey on his fresh grave.  This awakens Carnegie, who rises from the dead and begins eating his family.

Zombies.  Gore.  Revenge.  Redemption.

Deadly Things

Recorded the on October 31st this is my Halloween themed song for 2014.  It's about getting eaten alive by animals.  

The Virtue of Kazoo's 

Inside a bar in Hell's Kitchen I was talking to a very tall and interesting girl.  She was saying how she owns a digeridoo, bought ages ago on a trip to Australia.  She hadn't played it in years.  

I called bullshit, stating that an instrument (regardless how cool or unique) was totally worthless if never played.  The 3 Kazoo's I won the week before at Dave and Busters had more virtue, because they got use.

I shook her hand and promised to write a song about how a kazoo in use is far better than any instrument collecting dust.

Room 104

My newest song and I couldn't be more happy with how it came out.  

Written as part of a competition with my best friend Mike Andrews with the objective of writing a sad country western song . . .  something a young Willie Nelson would have cried over.

You and Me 

A little ditty I wrote with my girlfriend in mind, before I made her my wife. 

Love Lost, Ego Bruised 

With heat in my throat I wrote this song about a break up, a totally cathartic exercise.

Cigarettes Are

When Paul McCartney writes a song, it often sounds as if he were humming around his garden, inserting into his melody the words of whatever he's looking at.  So suddenly, "Jet," which was the name of his horse, is a Lady Suffragette.

That's what I did here, about cigarettes.