The Last Goodbye

A glimpse of the morning recording ghetto rig.

This tune combines the patent elements of lyrical sap, the favored rush chucka-chuckas and the uh-huh sparse use of an obligatory (absolutely) curse word to get the point home. Yum. Here it goes.

Flea Market Finds 092712

Saw dinosaurs. You know what? Still cool. Why? Because they're frickin' dinosaurs!!

Close Be the Wahine

I've been accused of developing infatuations with girls who I am in the company of, particularly a company that is frequent. This accusation is alone -- as a statement -- true; however, the tone of these words which are thrown imply a knock against me for not having looked beyond what is at a time, present. Ad hoc. Here. The one I'm spotting now. I do not actively hunt but when the game is right before me in all its casual glory, oh yes I do tend to admire what symmetry I do, I do see. And how can I not? There are museums dedicated to appreciation, halls set firmly in their foundations with the sole proposition to show you beauty.

And I see beauty.

Even Though My Hair Is Already White

To someone, someday.

Another song cover. It's 2 strikes against my usual, heh. First? It's in Tagalog. Second? It's a slower paced song. I'm regularly a Fast-English type guitar ka-chucka-chucker, heh heh. Anywho, here we go:

Kahit Maputi Na Ang Buhok Ko
original artist: Noel Cabongon

For The Relief Effort

Yeaummm . . . free plastic bag? In San Jose? F'N SWEEEEEEEEET. That extra 33 cents will go to the Leonard Lacking Emergency IT'S-IT Fund. It's for a good cause, yo.

This Laurel Night

Yikes. Another Girl. Another Muse. Another Song. C'est la vie.





This Laurel Night

Such a sweet prize

Standing out from car remains
On a cold night
hanging out with all the guys

Hey it's a tree

Beauty Leaf sprout
So well dressed and neighborly
Mother nature
sang success when she made thee

Did you see me by the phone?
Did you see me all alone?
With this guitar figuring out this song for

Thought you were with someone
Both drove in at the same time
So I retreated
Then started a strum in place of your name

Took my glances
Saw bare stems, all loverly but
Damn, on a cold night? Wanted to
get some sweatpants, keep you warm

Did you see me by the phone?
Did you see me all alone?
With this guitar figuring out this song for you

Help Me Find the Beamer Key (PM Outtake)

In preparation for the possibility of recording a little video of performing Pulelehua Moke, I did an audio take to get an ear on what the song sounds like now after not having played it for many months. Into the chorus, my brother interrupts the take. I'm in my bedroom upstairs and he's downstairs by the front door.

I'll Be Around You (If You Want Me To)

It's been 10 or so months since I've written a fresh song. With the recent return of oomphin' energy (kinda like Mighty Morphin' but without the awesome Zords), my spark received enough of a jump to conjure up this new tune right here. So here we go, folks. Enjoy.





I'll Be Around You (If You Want Me To)

I haven't left
was just wondering
How a fine thing it was
When you were kind to me

I'll be around you if you want me to
I'll be around you if you want me too

I never left
was just pondering
Do you feel alone
even though you're with him?

I'll be around you if you want me to
I'll be around you if you want me too
I'll be around you if you want me to
I'll be around you you know I want you too

Settle in, there's nothing in between
There's you and me, baby, that's all we need

Tape Mustache

(electrical tape + silliness = sweet tape mustache)

Bluebirds & A Little Magic

Ooh these were fun to play. I've chucked Santeria many a times in the past but just recorded a few chucks now. Tell Sanchito that if he knows what is good for him he best go run and hide. And The Tallest Man On Earth? A recent discovery and a neat one at that. Girls. Wahines. Skirts. Birds. Where you at? +2 songs added to the Cover Songs setlist. They are:

Where Do My Bluebird Fly

 original artist: The Tallest Man On Earth

Santeria

original artist: Sublime

Stringing Sage

Remember that arm I got ya?

Yup, this is Sage. The girl is a redhead now. I like redheads. Yum. I like to wash them up before putting new gear on, then tenderly strum them to both our delights. Enjoy your mint strings. Pubes on or off are usually up to you, darling, but Sage baby I gotta trim 'em or I'll get poked in the eye when I get real close to you.

So glad you're here with me.

Let's sing again.

And again.

And again and again and . . .

Follow Me on Twitter @leonardlacking

Yes. Twitter. And on this twitter account for you to see will be concise thoughts that amused me.  For the 5 seconds you graciously read a tweet 'o mine, hopefully it'll be worth the 5 seconds I just took from your life that - yup! - you'll never get back. This is practically Faustian. Should you decide to receive the power to see what goes on inside the indefinable, infinite mind of humanity, then your own being is forfeit.

Also these tweets are something promptly digestible to look towards in between bloated blog posts that often requires more time and consideration, ergo even more seconds from your life that - yup! - you too will never get back.

So follow me.                 @leonardlacking

Cover Songs Up

Uploaded some tracks to SoundCloud. They are recordings from last year of a few songs I covered. The titles are:

I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)

 original artist: Hall & Oates

Shorty Swing My Way

original artist: KP & Envyi

Trouble

original artist: Cat Stevens

I knew a number of other songs as well but didn't get around to recording them. The chords and lyrics are oh so hazy now but it could be fun to brush them up, strum, sing and upload them as well. But for now and as of this posting, we've got three.

Out with the Video, In with the Prose

With the Tellybox up on the home page, I've decided to take down the "Video" tab. There's no need for it now with a YouTube playlist embed showcasing a bunch of videos all available on one screen and should I singsong in front of a camera again, I could just put it up there. In its place is a "Prose" tab that will link to some past writing focused on prose pieces. These were lost through posts then months in a year  under a daunting blog archive and it was a cumbersome affair to find a particular bit of writing that I personally thought might be an interesting read. Not anymore. Now you can simply see a set of titles on a page and click on something that might catch your eye.

I looked back to what I wrote on my old MySpace blog looking for one entry about a car ride that I wanted to add to the prose page. Found it (read it here). While searching I also found others that were engaging, to my surprise. Now they too are linked all under "Offsite Selections". They're weird and angry. Crude and sad. Sometimes funny. I read a few of the entries. It's strange to meet your past self's emotions grocery packed in sentences. Watching the reel go back on times forgotten is like viewing a foreign movie, subtitled to help you along -- oh, that's what it means! -- but still, it's a different area with different people doing different things.

Strange things

See for yourself, along with the usual mess here at He Who Lacks, in prose.



on a side note: The blog system on MySpace blows, organization consisting of throwing everything at you in one lump sum. Hard to believe there was a time when I refused to move my blogging activities from there, with MySpace as the one and only blog. Currently? I no longer post on MySpace. It's all but abandoned.

Up on the Tube: Two Stars

'Shopped an image to set music to so the song could be loaded up to YouTube. Here you go:

Ding-a-ling-a-dah! Dah-dah dah, dah daguh-daguh . . .

It's the very same recording on my SoundCloud, now just more Youtubey.

Ooh. Youtubey.

Shifty in the A.M.

Stepcha- stepcha- stepcha-

 Listening to Coolduder talk movies. Before that, Bill Burr. Before that, Karl vs. Steve. And in this unlit room, the glow from a laptop screen light up fingers clacking on a keyboard; copy-pasting html code in an effort to place the playlists on the home page for more fitting access. How's it look? Ooh, more colors. The window is open and the night's cold crawls in. Where I sit I can feel a bit of the chill and it's nice. The streetlight just outside electrifies the surrounding twilight with a harsh yellow squeeze. Though not pretty, it's better than the dusky, empty shade; seen where big trees act as 80 watt goalies. (Yo, no light here, they might say in plant-speak.) Those areas are where shifty gremlins sprout from.

Stepcha- stepcha- stepcha- stepcha

Someone's walking.

Stepcha- Step-

"Yeah strange," I think, shuffling up from the computer and -- ever so slightly -- peeking out from the bottom of the window like a groundhog. "Where?" Scanning left then right with my peepers I catch it! Clad in a white hooded sweatshirt, there it goes, bumbling forward on the sidewalk with sludgy steps.

SLUDGY STEPS!

With jittery eyes I shudder, "From that dusky shade, it can only be one thing . . .

WHITE HOODED SWEATSHIRT ZOMBIES!!!"

Gahhh!! . . . wait.

Stepcha-

Nope. That dude is stumbling along

And zigzagging.

In a sloppy non-pattern.

As it turns out (2:36 a.m.) it's just a drunkard trying to get home without hitting a light pole.

Fran Dance

Look Out! A New Header

Yaaaaarn. Here's the new header:

The Wellspring In The Ruin

Why yes it's nice to know
Oh that I might be someone good,
On your witness, though a time ago
How you smiled when I once stood
On barren days return root hours; the principle recline
Oh tender you, I ought remember -- rise! -- to drink a smile