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Goo Seneck

by mark bingham

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1.
Prisoners Of the Sky 03:23
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There's language in your eyes in your cheeks and lips But your words are poison to my heart My calamity set in stone Any progress rarely noticed Contention pays no debts I don't need more Disappointment I will never find another human who understands Yet I live, I live as I dream - I know you will never forgive me but I can't choose love With your eyes I'm not scared of empty spaces I don't need drugs to cheat my loneliness. I don't tell secrets to strangers And yes, I don't trust you and nothing's more lonely than being in love with a liar So I'll take solitude, I'll take lonely and you can drain yourself of all that drama A thorn in the flesh that disappears when the phone rings A million stars in the sky a million planets plunge and die Your beauty is indescribable A wheel in the middle of a wheel But loneliness is your company, too With the world, the flesh, and the vending machines in the lobby Your heart's a green apple all hard and sour I remember that happiness made you afraid I sleep and life is beauty Your company is my duty I serve my innocence into white hair I serve my innocence Jonah prays and sings his canticles Jonah prays and sings his canticles Prisoners of the sky You and I
2.
AT In The Rain 04:00
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Allen Toussaint In The Rain the last refrain I thought I heard was buried in the noise a mix of tango melodies, waterfalls, and laughter I can’t break the codes I'll never understand those boys hot liquor in the veins of men who rot before they ripen cane poles on the levee fishing the years away still 1937 on the river a barge goes by, the bargemen wave the pole stays in the water the fish stay where they otter servicing the antique world with melancholy bait the melodies of days gone by sugar cane molasses can't go back, there is no place, that I ever belonged Deep breath, long look say goodbye barely been here all along Allen Toussaint in the rain, suffering like all saints do Allen Toussaint in the rain walking towards the sea in his sandals yes we have seen better days of feeding our revenge the young at heart take refuge in counting our offenses
3.
The Long Hangover 08:09
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It’s Easter time in Providence spring is in the air The waters of the moon swirl and swoon, oh happy day The flower girls of Newport chase Dalmatians Over mansion lawns behind high fences Kids on pine needle pathways sell ginger ale with cherries Shedding the tears of Christ Collecting bills in an old top hat love and happiness the kitsch goddess Irony grow in soil made of money she rules over Infinity the complexion of wealth the snitch god Entropy the brutality of triumph he rules over Eternity wealth is useless on the day of wrath peace and calm from gratifying passions and lust sighs in the moonlight granted immunity to the long hangover of history. who's been granted/ granted immunity? to the long hangover of history who's been granted immunity / from the long hangover of history? playing at a wedding, we are playing ” there’ll never be another you”. ok, bridesmaids to the stage please, in the pink tent we have the grass-fed rib-eyes hot smoked w A.J. Loria pecan wood and finished off with some slightly burned yak butter and served with 6 variations of Kale grown in the bride's own garden. the bride and groom treat the band like help and paid them accordingly, requesting ABBA medley, Billy Joel and Green Day. the whole band is frisked- frisked by the rent -a-cop guards the aunt complains ( "and I told them and told them and I told them again that "I will survive" is not an appropriate song for the bridesmaid's dance, it's not 1637- we're not wearing identical dresses to ward off evil spirits and I wanna hear something peppy from these overpaid bastids who call themselves a wedding band !" we're just glad we didn’t have to play “Honesty” for the father-bride dance. the Maitre’d was on to us protecting food and champagne no interaction with the guests no shrimp no oysters no foie gras times sees all and time reveals-nothing is done secretly times hears all things - explains it all Nothing is done secretly hence these tears, hence these tears ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah When the cherries in the bowl turn to wine we’ll drink it like was is our last communion The wisdom of the ages died of hunger in the snow Klansmen play guitars in Keith Richard open G I took a cue from Eduardo Mateo and ordered the tofu against my better judgement against my better judgement against my better judgement against my better judgement I remember all the parties the parties for Richard Rogers- remember all parties - the parties before I was born. live each day like it was our first day live each day like it was our worst day In darkness over water through great cities
4.
Gargantua and Pantagruel by Rabalais 05:35
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Gargantua in Paris put cathedral bells on his horse And more of this discourse… 11 months in his Mother’s womb she was eating tripe and drinking wine Gargantua grew and grew. learning Latin by candlelight The Lord of Suckfist and Pantagruel sang these songs to whoever would listen ]Shittard Squirtard Crackhead Turdous the bung has flung some dung on us Filthard Stinkard the Lord of Suckfist the bung has flung some dung on us There is no need of wiping one's tail, said Gargantua, Gargantua. When it is foul, then we must drink before we wipe. Said Gargantua Gargantua Now, I prithee, go on in this wipe-fumitory discourse , and by my beard, I swear, by the good Breton wine, from the country of Verona to the hills of Texarkana F# G C F F# G C F Afterward I wiped my bum with nutria in pantyhose afterward I wiped my bum with a cormorant and a lawyer’s sack with a pouch, with a pannier, that was wicked and fulfilling and then with a hat, yes, a hat. Of hats, please note that some are shorn others shaggy, some covered with taffeta, and others velvet or satin. The best of all these is the shaggy shaggy hat, for it makes a neat pattern of the fecal matter. Shittard Squirtard Crackheads Turdous The bung has flung some dung on us Filthard stinkard the lord of Suckfist the bung has flung some dung on us Afterward I wiped my tail with a pigeon’s tongue and a lawyer’s sack. Afterward I wiped my tail with a hen with a cock with an armadillo But, to conclude, I say and maintain, that of / all the arsewisps, bum fodder, tail-napkins/ bunghole cleansers, and wipe-breeches / there is none in the world compares to the/ neck of a goose, the neck of a goose / if you hold her head betwixt your legs. And believe me on my honor, you will feel in your nock hole A pleasure that passeth understanding communicated to the bum-gut Even to the regions of the heart and brain. Even to the regions of the heart and brain said, Gargantua, Gargantua
5.
IKN 04:01
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I know what I've asked for in ignorance and pain what I‘ve received cant be measured Witness San Pedro rainforest of green the sky of time regressing to the mean Yes I know Yes I know Yes I know Nothing life by the numbers, the forever wars imagination you can't bargain for I see mescalito bottled in time offering clues burning daylight yes, i'm slow slow to go on the journey to nothing The occupying soldiers smoke drink beer and lament Post K duty They miss their providential nonessential beings The jukebox plays "tangled up in blue" 5 times in a row played by a guy from Delacroix laying money on video poker homeless drifting, his town washed away the song brought him home even if Bob Dylan mispronounced Delacroix San Pedro keeps watch protects us tonight from the migration patterns of vermin and birds and I would shake off my humanity given the slightest chance Yes I know Yes I know Yes I know Nothing
6.
Vain Remedies 04:42
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There is no rest for a man torn to pieces / betrayed and condemned Isolated from the world from his neighbors from his children from his friends vain remedies, prescribed to the living vain remedies not saved or forgiven faith is never faithful just prayer and disease No one crosses over with vain remedies a child came to me wondering what should I ask for ? the head of a killer ? or the hand of a thief some say the wheels of the nation came off a long time ago some say that we're lost and lonely some say it's too late to go some say that vanity is glue well who, who put such thoughts in your mind, who gave you such notions? it’s in the air, it’s everywhere, but it has nothing to do with your smothering devotion enough with sanctified not fully satisfied without the class divide on paper looking good run run to get away to life without a net to places off the grid to chase the dogs away vain remedies, prescribed to the living vain remedies not saved or forgiven Faith is never faithful just prayer and disease No one crosses over with vain remedies a child came to me wondering what should I ask for ? the head of a killer ? or the hand of a thief There is no rest for a man torn to pieces / betrayed and condemned Isolated from the world from his neighbors from his children from his friends lets talk anesthetized corrupt a saint tonight let's talk of grave and worms let's take the blood and germs let's pluck the happy flowers let's split that hair in ten all hell will sit for this my long departed friend
7.
For Nothing 03:43
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have I labored to no purpose ? have I spent my strength in vain ? have I lived for nothing ? Life rolls by day by day but have I given -given you- nothing ? (coros) those who are trusted with the treasures of the earth must prove to be worthy of the trust but I was not put on earth to be remembered or trusted or vested. *a glass of water in a bag of bones on the table made of nothing my life-force waning , fading away do I breathe for nothing ? (coros) *I'm wired to the living , the dead leave us alone my deeds are confused and memories invented No, I was not put on earth to be remembered I'm just passing through every action I have taken struck a chord across the universe meaning absolutely nothing * A wisp of smoke, a morning mist they turn in... into nothing ( coros) aimless distraction, reputations fade, what is made by man is nothing 3x I have wavered I have have faltered but I stand so unafraid what if I lived for nothing ? a glass of water in a bag of bones on the table made of nothing will I reach the 7th level where all souls are unified or have I lived for nothing ? (coros) those who are trusted with the treasures of the earth must prove to be worthy of the trust but I was not put on earth to be remembered, just passing through have I labored to no purpose ? have I spent my strength in vain ? have I lived for nothing ? watch Life roll by day after amazing day but have I given -given you- nothing ? Oooooo- oooo
8.
Goodbye New Orleans 03:56
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In a dollar crib, Tony Jackson played the piano For a party that will soon be over and done The scene stayed alive with laughter and gin murder, and greed in the name of cool after 200 years of mob rule Look what we’ve got today It’s no mystery - we’re not fools, invent history, bend the rules. As if there ever were ever any rules to follow From the Boston Club to the Whitney bank From the Pickwick Club to the OPP drunk tank The ghosts still hang around the dance The Times-Picayune still invents the news With Stone Pigman and the Zulus So - the levees, start over again Goodbye, New Orleans In a dollar crib, Tony Jackson played the piano And now his ghost sits in all over town every night his complexion changes to feed his revenge he was done to death by slanderous tongues Now at heaven's gate we flap our wings out of mind out of sight out of time It’s no mystery and we’re not fools Invent history, bend the rules As if there ever were ever any rules to follow From the Boston Club to the Whitney bank From the Pickwick Club to the OPP drunk tank The ghosts still hang around the dance The Times-Picayune still invents the news With Stone Pigman and the Zulus So ------- the levees / start over again Goodbye, New Orleans
9.
This World Does Not Love Me 03:35
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looks were fond words were few fill the air with beauty but this world does not love me shining hours time washed away hurt me tonight I dont care this world does not love me cold black despair remains common as light martyr of fame climb the upper city This world does not love me lies return as holy babel breathe and sigh this world does not love me I'm going home dark blue sea praise to oblivion the world does not love me misery and gin Lefty and Merle grief is my friend This world does not love me cold black despair remains common as light martyr of fame climb the upper city This world does not love me

about

This record reminds me of a night in 1997, when I passed out face down in a Cobb salad at Commander's Palace.

Ketel One vodka was just starting and the distributor was the friend of a friend. They invited me and Joe Boyd and Andrei Codrescu to dinner. The vodka won. Ketel One became a big deal brand. The next day, Joe and I finished our mixing with bad hangovers.

The working title for this record was The Long Hangover of History. After years of looking at the title, I decided it sounded like some grad school thesis. Nope.

In 2009 I met and began working with Michael Cerveris, who was not only a great musician but also an actor with deep roots in modern musical theatre. I'd always loved Sondheim and I swear Michael called him Uncle Steve. Wow. Not a day goes by.

But, despite adoring the songs and persona of Sondheim, I was never really a devotee or even a fan of musical theatre. I wished they could make full plays that were 20 minutes long, as per my rocker attention span. Still tripping on the episodic tunes of the Incredible String Band in 1967-68, I loved using their form - many small segments strung together and mostly through-composed. With that in mind, I began making a series of Condensed Musicals.

There are 2 of those here; "The Long Hangover" and "Gargantua and Pantagruel". We know the Gargantua story but when was it ever told as a condensed musical? The Long Hangover starts sounding almost like a real musical before meandering through 10 distinct sections a la the Incredible String Band, telling the story of musicians playing weddings, the collision of art and wealth, the end of authenticity, and an homage to Richard Rogers.

Goo Seneck began in 2013 at Piety Street in New Orleans. It was during sessions with the Iguanas. I pulled Joe Cabral to play bass and Doug Garrison to drum on "the musicals". Jimbo Walsh played piano and helped me organize. We knocked out both pieces in an afternoon.

The rest of the songs were done with drummer James Alsanders. Carol Berzas Jr played guitar on much of the record.

credits

released January 26, 2023

Carol Berzas jr guitar and vocal
Mark Bingham. Guitar vocal arrangements
Joe Cabral - bass
Anthony Cuccia perc
Doug Garrison- drums
Rex Gregory sax,
Jon Gross - sousaphone
Monika Heidemann vox
Jimbo Walsh piano, transcriptions, arrangements

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mark bingham New Orleans, Louisiana

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