CORRECT WEIGHT

I am in the process of putting my third album Correct Weight together with the fourth, This is my Planet. I’ll include bonus tracks and make the double album available for the price of one. Below I’ve sketched out the ideas behind some of the songs on Correct Weight which was largely ignored at the time by the music press though in subsequent years they kept telling me how much they enjoyed the album. Hmmm.

MIDDAY MOVIE

This song sounds like it was my psyche spilling out influences of mid-to-late 60s bands like Kinks, Pretty Things, early Stones.  There are some nice things in it but it feels like a sum of parts rather than a whole. Still not sure what I should have done to give it more power.

 

MIDDAY MOVIE

 I’m getting poisoned by the midday movie

My stubbie’s getting hot

And the fan that I got

Can’t cool it.

There’s a job in the paper that I just might get

But I can’t read the label on my cigarette

My vision is shot and I’m bathed in sweat

From the effort of looking at my TV set.

 

I’m getting poisoned by the midday movie

Randolph Scott’s got a gun to my head

He’s a mean bastard

And he just might use it.

For the last ten month’s I been out of work

I’m part of the carpet and I’m covered in dirt

Yesterday the man came and he shampooed me

But it didn’t fix the toxins from my TV

 My head is spinning

My heart is pounding

I feel like I’m stuck in a tube

Without a vertical hold.

 I’m growing weaker by the dirty plates on the floor

If I can just last the afternoon might get to be with Dinah Shaw

Lately Audie Murphy’s been the strychnine on my TV screen

And I can’t get a job or an antidote

From the TV guide that I learnt by rote.

 I guess I’ll stay here till the night falls

Don’t won’t to go outside these four walls

I might be dying but at leats it’s slow

There may be better ways of living

But few easier to go

 My head is spinning

My heart is pounding

I feel like I’m stuck in a tube

Without a vertical hold.

 I’m laying dormant like a virus that’s packed in ice

And if they ever let me out

There must be doubt

That I’d turn out quite right

To help all the community

Develop an immunity

To the woes of those like me

They pump the gas through the TV

But all this gas is killing me.

 I’m getting poisoned by the midday movie

My stubbie’s getting hot

And the fan that I got

Can’t cool it.

There’s a job in the paper that I just might get

But I can’t read the label on my cigarette

My vision is shot and I’m bathed in sweat

From the effort of looking at my TV set.

 I’m going fast now

I cannot last now

I’m getting poisoned by the midday movie.

 On The Weekend is a pure pop song where I wanted to pain the picture of painful teenage love and its progression through various and inevitable stages of these relationships. It’s a cute idea but I think to work it needed a tougher rendition, a bit of Leopardism to subvert the pop feel.  An interesting curiosity with a good melody, and I like the dramatic shift into the middle 8 but ultimately just not quite there.

 ON THE WEEKEND

 When boy and girl go to a movie

All they ever want to do

Is hold each other tightly squeezing

Have a chocolate or two

And after school upon the buses

Girls in dresses drive boys wild

The boys all try to hide their fever

Comb their hair but never smile

 Till the weekend

When there’s lots of things to do

Lock your door and fool your parents

Who have to guess what you’re up to

On the weekend

On the weekend

 When boy and girl start going out

There’s only two ways it can go

The first is that they never kiss

The other is…well you all know

 When boy and girl start going out

They telephone through the week days

But it is on a Friday night

That innocence can go astray

 On the weekend

When there’s lots of things to do

Lock your door and fool your parents

Who have to guess what you’re up to

On the weekend

On the weekend

 When young girls start growing up

They leave their school boyfriends for men

And the young boys do it all wrong

And try to win them back again

 So schoolgirls grow up so much quicker

Liquor leads them into bed

The next thing they are buying homes

On special for the newly wed

 Till the weekend

When there’s lots of things to do

Lock your door and fool your parents

Who have to guess what you’re up to

On the weekend

On the weekend

 By now the young boys are grown up

They’ve long left school and become men

They start dating younger women

Who leave their school boyfriends for them

 Then browsing at the supermarket

They meet their old girlfriend from school

She’s now divorced with two young kids

And a half completed swimming pool

 Till the weekend

When there’s lots of things to do

Lock your door and fool your parents

Who have to guess what you’re up to

On the weekend

On the weekend

 

With Doesn’t She Look Fine I set myself the task of writing a Paul Anka style piece of early 60s pop that was really a dark, subversive short-story with a few surprising twists.  The opening lines make the listener think they are in for a standard prisoner-missing –his- girl-song but perversely it is gradually revealed that the girl in question is a sociopathic killer and the doting singer is the warder with the key.  Funny, many years later on that fine show OZ they pretty much used this story line. The moral of the tale is that within all of us there is a darkness. Who in the end is the greater psychopath? The angel faced killer in the cell or her keeper who imprisons her like the weirdo in the Collector – not to mention crazy Austrians. I like this song a lot and though the recording could have been a little tougher I felt it hit the mark

 DOESN’T SHE LOOK FINE

 When I hear “lights out” I think of her

The cells bang and keys turn

And all of my body yearns

Doesn’t she look fine today

Doesn’t she look fine

When she’s walking this a way

And I know she’s mine

Every guy upon the block

Would like to walk her to the shop

And talk and tell her how he loved her

Try to kiss her never stop

And who can blame them

I would do the same

Doesn’t she look fine.

 When she’s walking down the street

All the footpaths melt

And when I take her hand in mine

I just wanna shout

Tell the world I love her

How I’m never gonna leave her

Her love is like a dive into the river

Makes me shiver

Cannot float without her

Cannot doubt her

When she says she’s mine

 They say it won’t last

She’ll run off with some other guy

But all my fears fade when she says

“I’ll love till I die”

Doesn’t she look fine today

Doesn’t she look fine

When she’s walking this a way

And I know she’s mine

Every guy upon the block

Would like to walk her to the shop

And talk and tell her how he loved her

Try to kiss her never stop

And who can blame them

I would do the same

Doesn’t she look fine.

 She says she loves me

I say I need her

She says she’ll want me always

I say I’ll never ever ever deceive her

 Doesn’t she look fine today

Doesn’t she look fine

When she’s walking this a way

And I know she’s mine

They say she killed her father

Shot her mother burnt her brother

Poisoned her young sister

And smothered her two lovers

But she is trapped forever in a cell

And the key is mine

 And she is mine (she is mine)

And she is mine (she is mine)

She is trapped forever in a cell

And the key is mine.

 

Cabaretta is a look at the warped and weird world we found ourselves in, playing in sleazy venues six nights a week, coming alive at dusk like vampires and fading at dawn. I think it was probably influenced by Phil Ochs whom I actually met in Perth in about 1973.  Phil Ochs was a magnificent, now largely ignored songwriter whose opus Pleasures of the Harbour ranks as an all time favourite.  Few might agree but I think it’s more consistent and illuminating than any individual Dylan album. Sadly Ochs hanged himself. His songs could often be marked by sudden shifts and in Cabaretta you hear something similar when it swings into “And the drunks from fall from the ceiling” . Tony Durant did a great job arranging this in Brechtian style. It sure ain’t rock’n’roll but it’s interesting and has some of my favourite wordplay “ … make the running sore and the walking stick …” Not a good one for loud pubs though.

 CABARETTA

 Come to the Cabaretta when the moon is high

The girls play poker and the men all cry

Down at the Cabaretta when the moon is high

Grab you lame suit hang it out to dry

My friends all do it but they don’t know why

Down at the Cabaretta when the moon is high

 And the drunks fall from the ceiling

Their antics have us reeling

They land upon their feet and bid us try

While the croupiers are dealing

The young bucks try cartwheeling

They land upon the concrete floor and die

 Come to the Cabaretta when the moon is high

Pull up a chair pull down your fly

At the Cabaretta when the moon is high

There’s so much semen you will feel sea-sick

Make the running sore and the walking stick

To the Cabaretta’s dancing floor

 Watch the drunks fall from the ceiling

With an impolite precision

Upon our turn shouts of derision

Greet our tries

The young folk are all dead

They wrote their name in pencil lead

I get a drunk up in my stead

Or else I’ll die

And the heaving never ceases

Love among many greases

The poker playing ladies open wide.

7 Comments on CORRECT WEIGHT

  1. hi dave, general fritze here
    I recall that @ the bridge hotel that I did mention this album to you as it was not on your site….
    well, tragic* that I am, (sigh), in my clipping book, I still have a little promo booklet of correct weight, complete with leopards recipe & the lyrics to ‘end of the decade”. – lyrics & tune now running around in my head…., still great lines ‘i had it for a monent but it hurt so I let it slip” as well as ‘there is no more search for truth, the truth is we only want a little comfort…’
    as well as 3 cassettes of same -alas & alack, no vinyl – got em @ a servo waaaay back when, along with free kicks….
    hopefully you can include “hip capitalists” as well, the above mentioned track?,
    “on the weekend”, “.” aus rock & roll industry” should be an aussie muso anthem @ I’m sure it still resonates….
    can’t think of the rest of the track listing off the top of the head “mid day movie’ “refuee” “million miles….” are good ‘adolesent 101 primers’ & this is me being serious too.
    joey black is still a good a good song now for the ‘occupy wall street & thier ilk crowd hmmm?

    as for ‘planet’ did you make a recording of ‘ive been betrayed!’ with the this is my planet album – another addition?
    ha! thinking of those 2 albums reminds me of those 2 girls -denise & tracey, as well as the/my unrequieted love of/for the red haired beauty Jenny,(sigh) ha wonder who she is with & what they might be doing….

    dont worry about the critics, @ the time everyone knew that you were right on the button, you are bob dylans favorite songwriter after all (he has not retracted that) , & your critics were frustrated about about you not playing the game, as the opening lyrics of “wimbelton” reflect & the rest of the lyrics give creedence to, as well as parts of “aus r&r industry reflect also ., on the other hand the reviews were kind about the band
    buried in my own back yard still gets the feet tapping & fingers drumming.

    oh yeah, this is both albums together or 2 seperate albums with (fingers crossed) heaps of extra tracks?
    well put me down for half a dozen – after the coming election debacle, christmas is just around the corner, & these are ideal presents, see you @ caravan club.
    *no, no loyal long serving general,

  2. that should read on the weekend,mid day movie,refugee & million miles as sdolesent 101 primers – & aus r&r industry as aussie muso anthem,

  3. & well….after I got home from picking up my children, I’m a soccer dad! & after dinner – (I dont want to be a) “disco king” sprang to mind! & remembered 99 % of the lyrics! will that also make the track listing?

  4. another one that has come to mind is” when jungle boy meets jungle girl on the lounge room floor -they cannot control them selves they know not whats in store” can’t recall the song title though….
    dave, youve got the fritze grey matter in motion….

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