Static Method Music

You couldn’t give a reasonWhy Eden came to fallYou said overthrow the AbelForget about Cain’s FlawNow snakes on bellies crawlAlong the garden wallProve me wrongYou had to have it your wayOr there’s no way at allHad to have the last wordInscribed upon the hullBut I’m not goneStill marching onProve me wrongMust feel good to win the fightMust feel so damn good to know you’re rightMust feel like a god to watch me caveSee so many happy as they dance upon my graveThey can finally breathe, a cleansing sighBut are certain you got the right guy?You’ll not exhaustThe endless costProve we lostHow long have you ponderedThe source of your beliefIs it faith or is it reasonOr just a message on repeatRepeating on and onAnd on and onProve me wrong

You think you’re a saintCuz you’re not a sinnerYou say you’re a heroCuz you aint a villainYou think the way to be lovedIs to never be hatedYou say they can never kill or destroyWhat was never createdAnd you think that you’re rightCuz you avoid being wrongYou think you’re in tuneCuz you won’t sing your songAnd you gotta be happyCuz you’re never cryingYou seem so successfulCould it be you’re not tryingCuz I’m here to tell ‘ya that you ain’t evenWhatever the hell ‘ya no doubt believe inYou can’t hide or deny me cuz I’ll get evenYou can’t be somethin’ if you ain’t nothin’You say you’re a winnerBut tell me who have you lostYou claim to be wealthyBut never cover the costYou got all of the answersThat you never questionYou got impeccable tasteOr could it be indigestionYeah I’m here to tell ‘ya that you ain’t evenWhatever the hell ‘ya no doubt believe inYou can’t hide or deny me cuz I’ll get evenYou can’t be somethin’ if you ain’t nothin’No you can’t be somethin’ without me, without meEven as evil, as evil as I am (just about as evil as you could be)You know that you wanna be something, dontcha wanna be somethin’So give me a reason to give you a good god damnYou’re shining your virtueBy hiding your viceFig leaves after feastingTell me who pays the priceYour candle of kindnessCould never burn meBut it’s casting a shadow on me, unseen

Is it an Easter song? Let’s hope so.

St. Alfonzo’s RevengeWho can take a misty raindropShovel in some bovine stoolTickle-me chords on the pianoBlow it out yer didgeridooAccidentally occidentalCan ya cover up the king of the jews Please!Welcome to pancakes for the ingratesWould you lend me your attentionDivide it into left and rightDid you think this would last foreverIt will if we just keep up the fightFry ‘em up in every color, Of beige and pink and white Yum!All shades of pancakes for the ingratesAnd the people cried Hold me hold me rock me till sun rise Rock me till supper evenLookit here folks nothing to see go back home Go home!See me, love me, save me, lookit I’m dyin’ here I’m DYYYYYYYIN’!Join them singingShow me show me  Know me know me Hold me in your gazeScold me scold me Told me told meThou wert the only wayWhere are all my friends and familyLittle sister done chased ‘em awayWhun it ‘posed to be big bruddha Little sister blew big brother awayOh wow  ain’t that a bitch sirWhy Yessir she certainly isStill this guy’s got pancakes for the ingratesA nameless tree grows in the desertNary a soul in sightPray for rain, pray for rainbowsThe storm is passing over tonightMangos kiwis bananas, sing it till ya get it tight Kiwi, kiwi, kiwiRoll up those pancakes with the ingrates And the people sang Hallelujah, Hare Krishna Krishna Rama babyHoly Holy HolyHoly ShitHoly mother fucking shit!All is sacred, all is sleazy it’s just that easy    Sleazy pleazeyShow me show me , know me know me Hold me in your gazeScold me scold me, ya told me told meThou wert the only wayAnd then, just when all hope was lost, a parade of monks arrivedHeralding a brand new dayTurning our pills into skills, and our pancakes into panachePlacentae ad ingrati  Placentas ingratiAmantes sunt amentes   Lovers are crazyLovers are lunaticsSome folks don’t know how good they got itSurely you don’t mean meSold their oranges for sleazy pancakesSniffed ‘em in our olfactory Ten thousand hours of ther’pyIn a single night of cakes and syr’pyThree cheers for pancakes and the ingratesHip Hip Hooray hooray hoorayHip hip hooray hooray hoorayNo Thanks for the Cakes!

Some minimoogs, a clav, and a drum machine

Just a couple of 70s mini moogs and some 80s reverb

A song inspired by Phil Stutz' Part X and CS Lewis' Screwtape Letters

This is the first Neon Belly Records song release of my new fantasy band, Pancakes for Ingrates (which will get its own website when the first album is complete). It is also the very first bit of music to come out of the entire Static Method process consisting of 5 rituals. It proves that I can make album ready rock throughout the day, any time of day even while working a demanding 50 hour per week day job as a psychotherapist. Many of us have such songs locked up inside us. The Static Method unchains the melody.You can trace music on this site throughout the static-method process. For example this song, Jangle, started out as a Groove… during Ritual 1. Then it progressed into becoming a Scratch Song in Ritual 2. It finally progresses to rituals 3, 4, and 5 which transform it into a radio-ready song. JangleShe’s got a sound that she makes when she walks through the front porch doorAnd she laughs in the face of darkness when she parks it on the market floorI’ve got a feeling that she just might turnA steeling that you’ve got to earnTry it so you might discern a signal on the chainWell it’s hard to explainJust allow a man to cuss and complainThere’s a crack in my backAnd I hope that you can give it some slackYeahHe’s got a burden for Churchill a regular OFGAnd he won’t abide all the lies and he sure as hell won’t bend the kneeI’ve got a feeling that it’s gonna burnAll the cheaters are about to learnA fetus in the fern confirms the jangle on the chainWell it’s hard to explainAnd if I do I might just cuss and complainThere’s a crack down my backBut you don’t have to give me no slackYeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah YeahWe got a tangle the signal is a jangleHelp me find my way home

Well it’s hard. To Explain. Won’t you ‘low a man to Cuss ‘n Complain? Don’t listen to this. Move directly to the finished mix down on Jangle by Neon Belly.