Thursday, January 27, 2011

the content of the party is the form of the people...

in response to meara's rousing communist anthem, i'm posting the lyrics to the rap from dirty pages. this was the final scene in a series of encounters between two characters called "aesthetics." one of was a populist rural type (played by me, in overalls), and the other was played with buttoned-down professorial gravitas by jacob. he got the job setting the party's aesthetic, and i came to his office to protest. and it went like something like this:

The content of the Party is the form of the People (x6)


I found out there’s a schism

Between my own vision

And the bleak steel-grey skies

Of socialist realism


I’m an underemployed aesthetic

Damn right, it’s pathetic

I got room for the Party

But the Party won’t let itself

Open up the doors (what)

Find a common cause

Listen up to the will of the people

Before you feed the people yours


All y’all are simple-minded cookie-cutter propagandists

I’m speaking for my people, here to say that we can’t stand it

We panned it

It’s not like we don’t understand it

Bitch, we hate on your aesthetic

We want people’s culture: we demand it

We’re making whole-wheat art – we’re tired of your whack-ass canned shit

It’s bland shit

And now I know for sure that you’re offended

You wanna smack my ass in public, fuckin reprimand it

The KGB’s got camera’s trained on me, but they ain’t Candid


Dong Fong Hong, you got me all wrong

Yo soy cubano, sou de Angola,

Russia, China, and North Vietnam


The people got my back: you know that they’re respectin’ me

The Party’s whack, though, cuz it only wants to step to me

I know you’re lacking – it’s a cultural vasectomy

And I’m-a smack that shit with all aesthetic left in me.


I got the wherewithal

To truly answer Marx’s call

Knock down aesthetic Berlin walls

Like Karl Rove or Riefenstahl


I got the predilection

Aesthetical conviction

Your party’s what I’m fixin

I’m fucking Solzhenistyn


I plough your fields and plant your gulag grain

And still compose

I wrote a song about it: like to hear it?

Here it goes:


The content of the Party is the form of the People


...and then i got dragged offstage by some burly security guards, who were actually probably some reed-thin junior girls. there was also a coda in the final scene of the show.

(You know my name is Raphi but my people call me Raph

I had a little cold last week; I had a little cough

I’m here to blow aesthetics up: I’m like a molotov.

It’s time to get your glastnost on and get your Gorbachev.)

Monday, January 24, 2011

one more from Faye and Hanrahan

Okay, before I turn in for the night, here's another from HO! The Ballad of Faye & Hanrahan. I have vivid memories of drinking and hanging out at 113 Howe (is that right, Alex?) the night before rehearsal then going "OH SHIT my CG homework!" which was to write a musical number for the next day. So Alex let me use his computer in his bedroom (away from the madding crowd) and this is what happened. This is Faye & Hanrahan's song as they begin to fall for each other. Er, remember that Hanrahan is a photographer. Or it's not funny at all.

Also, here's the tragedy: at the moment, this is from memory and I totally don't remember the bridge. I'm posting what I know for now so that nothing else evaporates from my brain -- then I will go on a bridge hunt. If you remember it, post away!


Things Are Developing

Faye:
I don't know quite how it happened,
How it came to be.
One minute he was taking pictures,
Next he'd taken me.

Hanrahan:
Everything came into focus,
Suddenly I knew,
I came out West to find adventure,
What I found... was you!

Both:
Took a picture, took a chance
Maybe this will be romance
Got a funny feelin' in my pants
Well!
I think things are developing!

Hanrahan:
Took a train and came out West,

Faye:
Kicked him out, I thought it best.

Hanrahan:
Came back in,

Faye:
I was impressed.

Both:
Well!
I think things are developing.

[BRIDGE! Oh man I wish I remembered it! But basically it builds to a giant kick-line-cymbals-crashing-tempo-slowed version of the verse, which gooooes...]

All:
Maybe love is worth the hype,
Like a good daguerreotype,
Picture perfect,
Truth not tripe,

Both:
And maybe this time will be right
A brilliant flash, a dazzling light
A spinning ecstasy of flight
Well ------ !

I ----
think things ----
Are ----
de - vel - o - piiiing.......

Muted trumpet (or just Sara):
Wah wah wah waaaah.

Meara's Proletariat Song

YAY! Meara posted a song in a comment on the last post, so I am moving it to its own post. I know that you guys should be able to post as well if you've joined the blog, but I'll try to figure that out more... Here's Meara's note and song -- hooray!

------------------

Oh my goodness! This is an amazing idea... Makes me feel like digging through boxes to contribute to this quest. Here's one from my sophomore year. The show featured the Communist Manifesto, and the opening scene featured yours truly in coveralls, a harmonica and a straw on which to chew. I remember sitting in my TD dorm writing the lyrics. Voila!

Proletariat:
I traced back my roots
To the middle ages.
Seems that we've never
Had a raise in wages.
Thought to myself:
Put up a fight.
Proletariat, you'll come out all right.

Slave and surf,
You've always been oppressed.
Guess that situation's
About to be re-dressed.
Don't let your hopes
Set down in the West, oh,
Proletariat, write a manifesto.

Chorus: (all)
Wives everywhere, throw down your mops and brooms,
Put down your needles and dance around like loons
Take off your dresses, give yourselves a bath
Put on a pair of pants and join the communist path.


This song makes me giggle! There was also a FABULOUS rap that Raphi might have his hands on.

I'll keep 'em coming,

Meara

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Ballad of Faye and Hanrahan

Here's another that I find myself singing repeatedly. And which I just found ALL the lyrics to in a cardboard box -- hooray!

Context: This show was a traveling Western romance, a story of a photographer (somewhat inexplicably named after the Yeats hero) and a tough lady brothel-owner who fall in love and become train robbers. And end in a tragic but inevitable blaze of glory. It was also the story of the conflicted preacher who formed an unlikely trio with them for a time -- was his name Simon? Somebody remind me. There was a giant bear puppet, a lot of flannel shirts, a camp fire, risque picture postcard photos, and only one visit from the cops. And it was my last official CG show -- slainte!




The Ballad of Faye and Hanrahan
from HO! The Ballad of Faye and Hanrahan, A Control Group Western
Spring 2008

Well gather round my friends and I will tell to you a tale
Of a robber and her sweetheart and a love that couldn't fail
A most unlikely story, here's how it all began
So lend an ear and you will hear of Faye and Hanrahan

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

When Hanrahan was 29 he hopped a train out West
He brought along his camera, 'twas a photographic quest
Took pictures of the cacti and jackrabbits in the sand
He introduced himself to Faye as Owen Hanrahan

Now Faye she owned a brothel, a fairly classy joint
Her gals were famous everywhere, they didn't disappoint
When Owen took her picture, she came up with a plan
To go from being only Faye to Faye and Hanrahan

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

Wanderin' the desert, their provisions they were low
They say one day they came across a mighty locomo'
Jumped aboard and waved their gun, and there they took a stand
The first of many robberies for Faye and Hanrahan

Once they stopped a cattle car on its way up North
It crashed and fell and all the cows rushed out and tumbled forth
A stampede formed, they almost died, but with a lasso in her hand
Faye roped them up and branded them with "Faye and Hanrahan"

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

At times they left the wilderness, the desert and the mountains
Covered in grime they took their crime to saloons and soda fountains
"Drinks are on the house!" they'd say, or rather they'd demand
And the folks would lift a toast to good ol' Faye and Hanrahan

They've held up trains in Boise, in Boulder and in Butte
They say that Owen's 10 feet tall and Faye wears bears for boots
One time they ordered cheesecake and ended up with flan
So they shot the waiter, that's the way with Faye and Hanrahan

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

Some say they battled fifty cops to gather up their loot
I saw them fight a dinosaur and cook it up to boot
I think they'll take on evil if there's anyone who can
There's nothing in this world that can beat Faye and Hanrahan

They rode across the Rockies on a pair of elephants
They left them at the Denver Zoo and jumped a ship to France
The Frenchies liked their joie de vivre and also their elan
They waved goodbye and shouted "Vive le Faye and Hanrahan!"

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

They busted through to Kathmandu on the Orient Express
They even robbed a bullet train, the Eurostar no less
The Trans-Siberian railroad was really rather bland
It's the wild wild West or BUST for Faye and Hanrahan

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free

Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
If you're out there, take a stand for me
Hey Faye and Hanrahan
The madam and the cameraman
You're just doin what you can
What you gotta, to be free!

Saturday, January 22, 2011

let's get this party started

Hello there. I'm Sara and I hope I'm doing this right. Making a blog, that is. (I know, I should have learned to do this back in the early 00's. Oh well.)

But this isn't about me. It's about THE MUSIC.

For a long time now I've wanted to collect the songs of the Control Group together. They're just too good to disappear into the aether, folks. At least, the ones I know are. And I know there are more out there.

Ultimately? I'd love to record all of them. But for now, I'm aiming for lyrics, maybe hilarious self-made videos of us singing the tunes? All of the above. Then we can plan the Great Musical Worldwide Control Group Gathering of Two-Thousand-and-Whatsit and make our master 10-disc recording! YOW. Who's with me?

SO! For starters. Here's a whistle-wetter. I've had this stuck in my head a LOT recently so it should probably go first. Here's a little ditty called Pritchard's Song. Sung by Pritchard (a portly butcher's son with a large, pitiably unattractive puppet head; that's him in the picture, with Gwendolyn, the Mayor's Wife) and some backup doo-wop rats. Here goes...


Pritchard's Song
from Rats in My Mahjong! A Piper's Tale
Spring 2007

Pritchard (spoken): Hey... Hey guys...! Can... Can I have a dream sequence?

Rats: SURE!

Intro
(rats "aaaah" in background)

Pritchard
I never thought I could feel this way
When you are near
I can hear
My heart say,
"Oh Claribel!
What can I do?
I would leave behind venison, throw away porkchops, abandon spare ribs and desert our best beef chucks to beeeeeeee with you!"

Verses
(rats "ooh-ooh")

When I go to sleep (ooh ooh!)
I see your eyes sparkling in my dreams
And when I wake up (ooh ooh!)
They're there in the sun's bright golden beams
Your face never leaves me (aaaaaaah!)
In its purity pink (aaaaaaah!)
I'm a terrible butcher but I'd make a good LOVER I think!

When I walk down the street (ooh ooh!)
I feel your hand enclosed in mine
And when our eyes meet (ooh ooh!)
I get shivers all up and down my spine
I wish I weren't ugly (aaaaaaah!)
I wish I weren't fat (aaaaaah!)
But I'm loyal and true and I love you and that, dear, is that!

Outro
(rats "aaah" in background)

So Clar - i - bel
Don't break - my - heart
Cuz it beats just for you
And it's all black and blue
And believe me it's true
I won't know what to do
I might just catch the flu
And then die of it too
If you saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
...
That we must be apart (ooh ooh!)
That we must be apart (ooh ooh!)
That we must be apart (ooh ooh!)
Please don't keep us apaaaaaaaaaaaaaaart!