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was
(
l to r ) david
avender ( guitars ) + colin schebek (
bass & guitars & coffee ) + heath lansdowne
( drums & percussion )| Song 01 | Scrambled Eggs | Our first fully-realized song.
A tune constructed around one single chord where the hook lies in
the
execution of that chord . . loosen up on the wrist, and let that wall
of sound made by Heath & Colin
drive the play. In spite of its simplicity and desperate over-exposure,
the song remains our most beloved turn by many; and a kiss for a girl
or a pint from a gent will twist are arms enough to give Scrambled Eggs
a try. Having no lyrics, the title was derived from the most scientific of methods. I believe I held a Random House College Dictionary and riffled through it until Robin Lansdowne (Heath's brother and our frequent guest guitar player) with eyes closed, poked down into the S's and found the word "scrambled." That being a ridiculous name for a song, Heath suggested adding "eggs." We agreed and celebrated our first song title with a lovely breakfast. |
3:02 |
| Song 02 | A favourite of our
written in the middle days of our friendship.
The tune begins with a completely ill-conceived plucking that adds
nothing to the song save 9 or 10 seconds before the fun begins. This
truly is one of my favourite songs and is as much a blast to play as it
is to hear. It's
fast, it's loud and put a smile on every pretty girl that walked by
Colin's garage whenever we playing it. The title is Colin's. How do you name a lyricless tune? Allow it to be known that Colin devised this song's title in a slightly less scientific manner than we devised the song title previous. I heard it, Heath heard it, we laughed, and we'd found our title. |
3:14 |
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| Song 03 | Let's Get Soggy | A possible tribute the
the weather of the Pacific Northwest . .
a climate that obviates a parents' call to "Go outside and play!" Such
inclemency allowed The Brandy to practice indoors . . sometimes in St. David's Church . . occasionally
in Heath's rec room, more
often in Colin's garage. A
petty little ditty safe enough for the dearest of ears. Lee Spurrell while dining with me at White Spot pronounced the name before there was a song to match its profundity. I believe that L.G.S. is a sufficiently soggy song to satisfy Sir Spurrell. |
1:50 |
| Song 04 | THIS IS THE SONG YOU ARE NOW ENDURING.
It's tight, it's fast, it has that
coveted merit of stentorian thunder . . it is . . .not of our own
creation. The Who offered the world a much slower version of this track
30 years ago. That track cried out for a kick - and SAINT'S BE PRAISED,
did HEATH KICK
THIS TRACK IN THE RUMP.
A blast to play in spite of the fact that - and you can hear this if
you listen to it - we end on two different notes. The truth is that
this happened so frequently we began to find it less infuriately and
more charming . . keep in mind, the three of us were 16 years old and
did not expect to sound polished. LORD IN HEAVEN, did we achieve THAT! |
2:12 |
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| Song 05 | Colin's Shuffle | Colin puts together
a nifty little toe-tapping guitar riff upon which I make a minatorial mess
of a noise on my guitar whilst I run up and down the fret board without
any sense of rhyme, rhythm or reason. This is the essential generosity
of Colin - a sensational guitarist and writer himself - he spends just
over four minutes with one reoccurring riff. That is Colin calling out the leader: ah-one-nah, ah-two-ah, ah-three-ah, ah-fow-ah, before the song begins. |
4:09 |
| Song 06 | This poppin' romp
infrequently fails to bring a smile to suffering listeners – a smile
most pronounced when this poppin' romp comes to an end. Heath's
triple
tap at second 34 reminds me why we made music while Colin’s bass riff
drives the song and I drive with proper discord all over the fret board. We 3 were experimenting with ever manner of rhythm & blues, and as we were loath to do OPM, we wrote our own or stole from others and hid the infraction as best we could. Mark with empathy that Colin & David – Heath is blameless – end in different keys . . an appropriate coda not unlike the disharmony that killed us before we graduated from our teens. |
2:17 | |
| Song 07 | A Foul-Tempered Clavier | As straight ahead blues
as we could do. What makes this sloppy sludge special is to know how
foul-tempered we all were during its recording. The balance of anger
was directed not at the other two members but at our equipment -
including our recording device. Someone - it could be Colin - yells, "Go!" which kicks off the song. This
I assumed . . it does sound like Colin . . but the song begins with the
bass, and Colin was on bass. I think now Colin was not starting off the
song with "Go!" but rather
directing someone out of the area so that we could begin. Either way,
every instrument in this song sounds exceptionally foul-tempered, which
I think gives the song a semblance of charm. |
3:41 |
| Song 08 | Amuse of Fire | Nameless for ages, and
for a moment named "Rise," this
song takes its name from the first nanoseconds of William Shakespeare's
King Henry V: O for a Muse of fire, that
would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! This song is a clear derivative of an impromptu jam. The spark of it started as a riff I was monkeying around with since I first began my guitar lessons. The tape was rolling as I began playing this tiny riff. As the did so very often, Heath and Colin listened closely and found there way into the sound to make something of a song. Much of the song is a very loud mess, but so goes the world when you're young band trying to find a very loud sound. |
3:26 |
| Song 09 | Apricot Brandy | In lieu of an organ we
all tried to make as much noise as possible to patch up a wall of sound
to frighten the birds from the trees and the neighbours from our
street. Rhinoceros had one substantial hit; and its name was "Apricot Brandy." The song, so fast
and so loud inspired us to take the songs name as a marker of what we
were attempting. The fact that the song by Rhinoceros owns no vocals
shares too, something with our quartet minus one. In truth, nothing is borrowed from the original song save the guitar riff. We jammed our way into the song and as the song continues we jam around it for a bit, before we begin to jam our way out. I particularly like Colin's lovely galloping bass phrase that's begins the fade out and is all that remains when the song is done. |
5:42 |
| Song 10 | Deeply Coloured | From whom the riff that
gives this song its energy was stolen, is hidden (not well) in the
arbitrary title I gave this four and a half minute monstrosity. Smiles
were plenty when playing this track, but even a blind, deaf and dumb
kid could tell that Heath is having a
fantastic blast. His drum rolls are just inspiring. Great fun. |
4:28 |
| Song 11 | Impromptu Blues | A title that gives away
the derivation of this song AND excuses
any note-for-note errors, mistimed crescendos or key inconsistencies.
Though not thought of consequential today, jamming was a very
productive way we found to discover cute riffs that sometimes developed
into substantial tunes . . . nothing came from this impromptu jam but
this impromptune. And, yes, that is a bit of Heaven . . .
something?? from that movie whose name escapes me presently. |
4:18 |
| Song 12 | Noddy at the Seaside | Where else
but in church could a song such as this be performed. The faithful
population of homes that surrounded St.
David's Church in Tsawwassen had their faith tested every
evening that two or three cars drove up to the church from which
tumbled 3 or more long-haired freaks of nature and a small following
chorus of squealing teen aged girls. This was a wonderful time to be
alive. A bit discontented with E-A, E-A, B-A-E, Heath asked me, "Write a blues song that doesn't have the typical blues structure." Noddy was the result. For some indeterminable reason, our audiences seemed to like this tiny track as much as we liked playing it . . . accordingly, it was well-played. |
2:30 |
| Song 13 | Fugue | This is not a fugue,
this is not a gigue. It is, perhaps, our most commercially crafted song
with a very simplistic fretboard climb that was most beloved by Colin, "That's the best part!" he would say.
If we had found within anyone of us the strength of character to sing,
the song might have been made fully-fleshed. We did not, and the song
remains lyricless and without a human voice . . . still, that fret
climbing riff is a ton of fun! This was a song without a title until someone associated the song with flight . . . Fugue ( fyoog' ). noun.
Music. [ Italian fuga (influenced by French fugue, from Italian fuga),
from Latin, flight.]
hence, fugue. I truly hate this title, but at this point it really does not seem to matter. Bit more . . without a doubt, we all knew that this song was different. We all knew that this song had no connection to rhythm and blues; and for that reason, we took great pride in creating it. R&B most often suggests a structure; this song's structure came from our own little skulls. With this song we were finally moving from a band practicing to be band, and toward a genuine band. |
4:18 |
| Song 14 | Self-referential as I
wanna be . . this track was the indeed the last - the
very last song - upon which we worked. It is incomplete and the
structure is haphazardly assembled. You can hear Colin and/or Heath
listening for where I'm planning to go in the song, and if you close
your eyes, you can imagine Heath peering wide-eyed over his drum kit
looking for my eyes to give him some idea of when to go next. THIS IS NOT the fault of Heath and
not the fault of Colin. The song was under construction and if we had
lasted, I'm sure I'd have a better interpretation of this dissembled
puzzle of a tune. Having said the aforementioned, it is - along with "Fugue" - a track with no basis in blues and again derived from our own adolescent minds. It is, also, my very favourite track. No other song (to me) suggests a future for us than this song. Stuck on the back end of this song is a moment of crashing bar chords disconnected from the song proper. This is a piece of the puzzle before we began assembling. AB, RIP. |
5:02 | |
| Song 15 | Southward Waves | There was a reputation
about the 3 of us held by the 3 of us . . we all shared it individually
and frequently accused the other one or two of proving it. The rep went
thus: We write rock songs that are so intricate . . so convoluted . .
so damned difficult to play that too often we would end practice
satisfied with imperfection; and to mollify our egos, write something
simpler (which would invariably become more convoluted with each
phrase). Southward Waves was, I think, our most ambitious attempt at something big. If you awake with Knife-Edge or Take a Pebble, and then drive up to band practice listening to Starship Trooper, Scrambled Eggs seems a bit too . . . safe. Assembled from 4 individual movements, Southward Waves was never actually played from start to finish. There are bits missing, connections are haphazardly fastened and parts that demand a 12-string are fleshed out with a mere 6. Altogether, I still prefer "Piggy." |
4:16 |
| Song 16 | Monday Mourning | Get the verbal irony?
This is the 3rd song we wrote and appeared on the original tape "Day Old Bread"
following "Seed of Life"
and preceding "Cat's Pyjamas".
I admire this song, I am proud that a small collection of 16 year olds
could write a song with such musical originality. While other bands -
contracted or not - wrote of chicks, cars, drugs, chicks, the
government, chicks, nuclear war and chicks with the most frightfully
predictable chord changes, we challenged ourselves to write something
intentionally unlike the rest. It may simply be that hokey title upon which we settled for the sake of not calling it, "That new thing that goes da doo-ka doo-ka doo-doo, da doo-ka dook doo", but there is something about this song - the listening to it, I mean - that I find fantastically depressing. Cleverly constructed, competently executed, but just the tiniest bit overcast. |
7:43 |
| Song 17 | Seed of Life | Nice customs court’sy
to good kings . . or so they should. "Seed" has a seed of something . .
germinating flower or fungus must be the judgment of the listener. This
was song 2 for us following Scrambled Eggs
and is at least 5 years ahead in its complexity of structure . . at
least the opening bit. Never properly recorded, the only existence of
this song comes from the "Day Old Bread"
tape. I'm thinking now if I had gone with root chords for the apparent chorus and properly tuned my guitar, the song my be quite good. As it is, 2/3 of it are quite impressive for a ragged bunch of high school boys. |
5:10 |
| Song 18 | Hop on Pop, 1st Movement | Heath was out wish Andrea
. . or perhaps on his way to us . . Colin and I had pulled Mr.
Schebek's jaguar from the garage and set up all that was required for
that day's jam. Amidst
oil, smoke and coffee fumes Colin and I allowed our musical
spirits to go nuts. This little ditty - and indeed it is a little ditty
- was put together extemporaneously, played twice, recorded once and
then forgotten forevermore. Some might say rightly - I happen to like
it. |
2:04 |
| Song 19 | Hop on Pop, 2nd Movement | Disconnected from the
first, "Hop on Pop, Second Movement"
has nothing to do with our bands' repertoire and even less to do with "Hop on Pop, First Movement." It is
half the length of its precursor and twice the effort to play. Colin does indeed shine in this track, and there is WITHOUT A DOUBT a delightfully tinny late 1960's garage band sound to this song which I think makes it the beginning of something that might have been good. In the end, this song - like our band - came to nought. |
1:07 |
| Song 20 | Soul on a Tightrope | Soavemente. This is a sample of a
song that had been bouncing around the edges of my skull since I was
14. It was the very first song I wrote and I have never stopped playing
it. There is something pleasing about the way it feels to play this
song; and anytime I play it in the presence of someone who has not yet
heard it, I get, word-perfect, "YOU wrote that?" The 1 minute that appears here offers only 1/2 of the song when properly played. |
1:12 |
| Song 21 | Pluckaduck | Filler material; an
adhesive between two flanking tracks. |
:40 |
| Song 22 | Cat's Pyjamas | Song number four of the "Day Old Bread"
collection and perhaps the forth song we wrote. Again this is the only
evidence that a song of this kind existed, and the recording is
depressingly foul. Colin wrote this upside down blues song and in spite
of its constant presence, this is only recorded song we have where I
actually use my wah-wah pedal. By far, the best bit of this track is
the bridge C-F which also serves as a violently bleeding crescendo out
of which one can hear - if one tries - Heath crying out "Yeah!" and "Oh, Yeah!" and "Ohhhhhh!" He
does this while going effectively beaners on the drums. Such
interjections always
tell you that what you are doing is being done quite well. Cheers,
Heath. |
6:39 |
| b-side 01 | Messing About | "Apricot Brandy was Primus before Primus was
Primus in its prime," someone once remarked after hearing this
tune. Even though I was the one to make this remark, I wholly concur
with it. This bit entitled "Messing
About" is the 3 of us monkeying about between songs. I monkey
with a little riff, Heath listens and begins to play along with that
little riff, Colin, thinking otherwise, monkeys with another riff, I
hear Colin's riff and prefer it to my own and thereby monkey with his.
Heath follows . . . and so it goes for 79 seconds. Honestly, I think it
binds together nicely. |
1:19 |
| b-side 02 | Rumpelstiltskin | Known to more noetic
ecumenicals as "Peanut Butter Jam,"
this tune is rhythm and blues delivered on a straight-edge razor. |
2:51 |