"Boxstep Blarg"

Larry Mullica was instrumental in my expanding the “Blarg” concept beyond just one song. There was a little spell when he was encouraging/daring me to continue exploring the concept on Facebook, so I eventually wrote several “Blarg” songs and posted them there.

I met Larry in the band The Spicy Pickles. I was only with the band for a few short months, and not long after I left the group, leader Joe Smith left Des Moines for Denver. There, he reformed the band with an all-new lineup as Joe Smith and The Spicy Pickles. They are doing very well. I’m currently not in any band at all, and my music career is NOT doing very well. It’s fair to say I’ve made some poor choices.

Boxstep Blarg

© 2014 Brian Hutzell

Do the Boxstep Blarg

(Blarggedy blarg)

It isn’t very harg

(Blarggedy blarg)

You can do it in the darg

(Blarggedy blarg)

You can do it in the yarg

(Blarggedy blarg)

You can sing it like a larg

(Blarg blarg)

Jaws did it with a sharg

(Blarg blarg)

Noah did it on the arg

The Boxstep Blarg

Blarg!

"Toe-Tappin' Ted"

Brian Hutzell

"Bottle In The Bedroom"

I recorded this song for my cassette collection “Making a Mess,” which is one of my personal favorites. It’s just a bunch of early songs I wrote, recorded in “everything-including-the-kitchen-sink” fashion. No commercial potential whatsoever! I began work on a sequel, “Another Fine Mess,” but never finished it. I leave a trail of unfinished projects wherever I go.

Bottle In The Bedroom

© 1983 Brian Hutzell

She's living with a bottle by her bed

It helps her get to sleep by lightening her head

"Just a little now and then," she says

But that little bit can sometimes make a mess

You know, making a mess of her brain

Making her insane

Making a mess of her mental facility

Hampering her mechanical ability

Wreaking havoc with her thought processes

When taken in reckless excesses

(Would you like a drink?)

She's got a bottle in the bedroom

And she touches it more and more

What does she need it for?

It knocks her to the floor

In the morning her head is sore

All the time it's making a mess

(Oh yes!)

Making a mess of her sense of discretion

Creating unneeded liquid excretion

She's got a bottle in the bedroom

And it's making a mess

And why should I have to clean it up?

That's not my job

She's such a slob

She can't even tell she's losing touch

Something she does not think about much

"Bombs Away!"

I wrote this one in Chicago. Yup. Other than that, I can’t think of a whole heck of a lot to say about it. Nevertheless, as I work my way alphabetically through many (but not all) of my lyrics, I have set the task for myself to write something about each piece across which I come. Therefore, I have composed this tidy little paragraph to let you, Dear Reader, know that I have nothing to say on the subject of “Bombs Away!”

Bombs Away!

© 1993 Brian Hutzell

Are you comfortable?  Do you feel secure?

Perhaps your confidence is a bit premature

Let me shake things up: I have an announcement

I'm looking for someone with a better endowment

Hey hey, bombs away!

This is the news to make your day

Hey hey, yippee-cay-yay!

I'm going to leave you--bombs away!

It's laughable to think you thought

With a sparkling stone I could be caught

And your candy hearts taste bittersweet

I'm off to find a better treat

Hey hey, bombs away!

This is the news to make your day

Hey hey, yippee-cay-yay!

I'm going to leave you--bombs away!

Hey hey, bombs away!

This is the way I choose to play

Hey hey, have a nice day

I'm going to leave you--bombs away!

Caught you unprepared for a sneak attack

Though I know you were aware of the target on your back

And you always knew this moment had to come

Let me wake you up; I've got an appointment

A new Mister Me has just been anointed

Hey hey, bombs away!

This is the news to make your day

Hey hey, yippee-cay-yay!

I'm going to leave you--bombs away!

Hey hey, bombs away!

This is the way I choose to play

Hey hey, have a nice day

I'm going to leave you--bombs away!

"Bitter Young Man"

“You once called me a warped, frustrated, old man! What are you but a warped, frustrated young man?” – Old Man Potter (“It’s a Wonderful Life”)

Angry songs are fun to write. I really enjoyed spewing out the venom in this one. I hope no one takes it too seriously.

Bitter Young Man

© 1994 Brian Hutzell

From the moment I awake at some ungodly hour of day

I bitch and moan if things don't go my way

I stumble out of bed, smack the doorframe with my head

Scrape a blade across my face till I'm beet red

My kitchen is so small, there's hardly any room at all

For myself, my breakfast and the things that crawl

My cereal gets soggy and the toast is always burnt

The coffee splashes on my wrinkled shirt

I commute to a job I hate on a train that's loud and late

On the telephone I'm always rude, as befits my sucky attitude

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

I have pet peeves by the score, and I'm always adding more

They form a carpeting of bile upon my floor

It's hard not to hate everyone who makes me wait

Who allows these cretinous jerks to procreate?

Perhaps I should be more selective when I aim my righteous invective

Shouldn't waste it on a brain like a sieve

Dealing with a mental runt, my instrument should be more blunt

If there's to be any fairness in the hunt

Someone somewhere owes me heaps for dealing with these creeps

Got my ass to the grindstone and my nose to the dirt

Why won't anybody pay me what I'm worth?

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

New kids, screw kids

What did you do, kids, to make them look at you, kids?

Can I do it too?

Another cynic you won't find who can stand my state of mind

I think Oscar the Grouch is far too kind

And The Grinch--he was a sap for falling for that Christmas crap

His tune to me is as tiresome as rap!

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

I'm a bitter young man

And I hope to someday graduate to the title of mean old fart

"Big About It"

I bought a bathroom scale last night, and I already hate it. The numbers it is showing me are numbers I do not like. I’m 15 pounds overweight. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not a big deal, but it feels terribly tragic. It means I’ll need to eat less and exercise more. I can do that. It also means I’m getting older and staying in shape it not as easy as it once was. I have a birthday coming up in just over a month, and I’m not looking forward to it. I was 17 when I graduated from high school. I’ll be 51 in July. Three times as old as I was at graduation. Hard to believe! The first 17 years took me from birth through high school. The next 17 were my most musically productive. This past 17 have seen me floundering a bit, bouncing from music to IT to art back to music and now taking a stab at writing. I vow here and now to make the next 17 the best yet! Push up and push on!

Big About It

© 1992 Brian Hutzell

Fallout

Falling apart at the end of the show

When the company starts to go

The music starts to grow

You're expecting one last confrontation

I will be big about it

You'll see; I'm not what I seem

I will be big about it

Won't stoop so low

When you're looking for me I'll be on the next plateau

Tryout

Trying to tie the loose ends into one

The project has just begun

And it's far from being done

I doubt anyone in my position could be

More fair in dealing with this situation

I will be big about it

You'll see; I'm not what I seem

I will be big about it

High time to clean inventory

I will not fight about it

What for? It's just gonna bore me

Storing up the energy

Forming future plans

I will be big about it

You'll see; I'm not what I seem

I will be big about it

High time to clean inventory

I will not fight about it

What for?  It won't mean a thing

I will be big about it

Won't stoop so low

When you're looking for me I'll be on the next plateau

"Believe"

Wally Koekebakker and I met at Berklee College of Music in Boston in 1983. Then we roomed together, along with Dave Chelimsky, in Revere, Massachusetts for a few months. We all worked together at Ruggles Pizza. That was near the beginning of my golden era. The first song Wally and I wrote together was “She Called Me Love.” While still at Berklee, I was part of a band called The Neuromen. That band never got off the ground, but led to some lasting friendships. Drummer Joe Napolitano had more success with Doppler Effect.

Wally and I co-wrote “Believe” via snail-mail. (Of course, back then it was just called “mail.”) I recorded a simple piano/vocal version for a demo cassette in 1990. Then I met a guy named Eric (I forget his last name) at Java Joe’s in Des Moines while performing with Tina Haase. Eric took an interest in me and my music. He worked with me to rewrite “Believe,” and the result is a stronger song. I was stupid to lose touch with him. These are the revised lyrics.

Believe

© Wally Koekebakker and Brian Hutzell

Believe there is tomorrow, and that I might still find you there

Believe there is love beyond all darkness

And that my search will be rewarded

And faith in the warmth of your smile

And strength to carry on the extra mile

Believe my diligence today will result in a brighter future

For me with you

For all of us--something new

To give love, you gotta believe

To give life, you gotta believe

To give myself to you

I’ve got to believe in you and me

And I do

Believe we can build a monument to the promise of possibility

Believe we can live each moment to the best of our ability

To give love, you gotta believe

To give life, you gotta believe

To give myself to you

I’ve got to believe in you and me

And I do

What I think and say and do can make a difference

I can lift a stone, can lift a stone

What I think and say and do can change the world

But not alone, no not alone

Believe where I find tomorrow

You and I will be together there

Believe there is love beyond all darkness

And deep inside, you really care

To give love, you gotta believe

To give life, you gotta believe

To give love, to give life

You and me, for all time

To give myself to you, I’ve got to believe in you and me

And I do

I do believe

"Bedtime Story" again

“Stop pussyfooting around! Address your sexuality!”

“Okay. Hello, My Sexuality!”

In my senior year of high school, I wrote a poem about being gay. I’m not sure what prompted me to write it, nor am I sure what prompted the teacher to read it aloud to the class. My girlfriend at the time found it amusing. I’m well aware that plenty of people who’ve met me through the years question my sexuality. I’ve been happily and heterosexually married now for 17 years; that’s the important thing.

Bedtime Story

© 1994 Brian Hutzell

Sorry, not tonight.

I’m tired; I have to rest

I couldn’t enjoy it; my mind is too stressed

Please don’t be upset that I’m not in the mood

But follow me into my room

I can’t stop thinking about the problems of the day

I need something to take my cares away

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Won’t you stay--Treat me like a little boy

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Please stay--Treat me like your little boy

Don't excite me--keep your voice low

Rub my back nice and slow

Let your story just evolve

Give it a happy ending--problems solved

Sleep descends on the tale you create

Then let life imitate

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Won’t you stay--Treat me like a little boy

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Please stay--Treat me like your little boy

In the morning, all is new

I remember nothing except you

Maybe this evening, you can come again

This is a private club, but I’ll let you in

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Won’t you stay--Treat me like a little boy

Stay: Tell me a bedtime story

Please stay--Treat me like your little boy

"Baseball Player"

When I was a kid, I liked the Los Angeles Dodgers for the simple reason that my dad liked them. My favorite player was catcher Steve Yeager, and for a while I entertained the idea that I would be a Major League baseball catcher, so I could be more like him. But baseball and I were never on the same team. I was the most unathletic child ever, and one of the very few boys in my school who never joined Little League. A stronger influence than baseball was at work: music! Even more than I wanted to be Steve Yeager, I wanted to be David Cassidy. Unfortunately, teen idol-dom and I were never on the same team either.

Baseball Player

© 1995 Brian Hutzell

Could’ve been a baseball player

Would've been fun

Totally different

Than what I’ve done

Something physical to make me sweat

The American pastime

How cool can you get?

Could’ve been a baseball player

Could’ve been a baseball player

Could’ve been a baseball player

Could’ve been almost anything

Could’ve been a dentist

Like a certain elf

Doing something important for people’s health

Maybe a misfit

Misunderstood

Full of surprises

And the rewards are good

Could’ve been a dentist

Could’ve been a dentist

Could’ve been a dentist

Could’ve been almost anything

I made a choice--travelled a different road

That has made all the difference

I found a voice--live by a private code

That has made all the difference

Could’ve been an architect or a veterinarian

A famous novelist or a librarian

Could've been a superstar

Could’ve been somebody

Could’ve been a...

"Barefoot Girl"

Rock ‘n’ roll: I’m not very good at it. In fact, in reviewing a cassette demo of mine, the writer called me “The anti-rock ‘n’ roll.” It was NOT meant as a compliment, but I take it as one. Rock ‘n’ roll is old territory, and one with a very limited terrain. I get bored if I have to listen to very much of it, and I get equally bored if I have to play too much of it. I feel the same about blues, country, and a lot of what passes for jazz. In spite of that, I’ve played with rock ‘n’ roll bands, and had some fun experiences doing so. One of my music career highlights was playing keyboards on tour with Danny and the Juniors, of “At the Hop” fame. I wrote several songs on that road trip, but unfortunately, none of them were very good. “Barefoot Girl” has quality verses, but the chorus sucks.

Barefoot Girl

© 1998 Brian Hutzell

You don’t wear shoes when you go to school

You’re kinda dreamy, but you’re no fool

You’re not afraid to dance alone, and not about to change

You don’t mind when people call you strange, no

Your clothes are always out of style

The ads on TV just make you smile

You’re not the type to fall for hype; you’re not the kind to bend

You know you’ll be the winner in the end, oh

You’re my barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Sweetest in the whole damn world

Barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Let me love you like I know I can--you know I can

Oh barefoot girl, let me be your man

You stand apart from the crowd that’s cool

You try to follow the Golden Rule

And you wonder why so many crying, “Peace!” in the street

Are wearing army boots on their feet

You’re my barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Sweetest in the whole damn world

Barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Let me love you like I know I can--you know I can

Oh barefoot girl, let me be your man

Barefoot girl, I wanna be a part of your world

Barefoot girl, I’m in love with you, so please tell me what to do

You view the world from happy ground

And gladly share the life you’ve found

I only hope the world will open up to your embrace

And never take the smile from your face

You’re my barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Sweetest in the whole damn world

Barefoot girl, my barefoot girl

Let me love you like I know I can--you know I can

Oh barefoot girl, let me be your man

"Barefoot"

To date, I have only been paid for two short pieces of writing. That’s the extent of my success as an author. Both pieces were for an indie zine with a gay foot fetish theme. The same zine also paid me to run some pictures of my bare feet, so I can claim to be not only a professional author, but also a professional model, albeit with one with a very short resume in both careers.

Barefoot

© 2002 Brian Hutzell

No shoes!

How nice!

No socks!

Feels good!

The ground beneath my feet

The textures feel neat

The cold and the heat

Soft and hard

Smooth and rough

Waiting for my soles to get tough

My toes spread comfortably

And it turns me on

Now I’m showing off

Showing off my naked feet

See them tan and shining in the sun

Attracting looks

 - some envious

 - some curious

 - some nervous

Barefoot in the summer

Barefoot in the winter

Leaving footprints in the snow

Wondering,

What do people think when they see my barefoot prints in the snow?

Do they think I’m crazy?

At least they’re thinking about me!

"Backwards"

I owned a Roland KR-570 for a few years, and loved it. Great sounding piano, very versatile and an excellent tool for composing/sequencing loops, rhythms, and songs. I sold it while we were living on Sherman Hill…stupidly. While I still had it, I used the KR-570 to arrange and sequence a couple dozen songs with intent to record them all in a studio. That never happened – another mess of loose ends. The arrangement I made for “Backwards” was lighthearted country swing, and it worked quite well. I hope I am able to finish it up someday in the not-too-distant future.

Backwards

© 1993 Brian Hutzell

This goes here; that goes there
Connect the pieces, still I get nowhere
Say this now; say that then
Following directions, every step and when

But I got it backwards
The back is where the front should be
And the part where you make love to me is especially bewildering
'Cause I don't recall it happening
It's all backwards
I got it backwards

One way's right; the rest are wrong
And even the one that's right doesn't work for long
What to do? How to know?
The manual I used was outdated so…

I got it backwards
The back is where the front should be
And the part where you make love to me is especially bewildering
'Cause I don't recall it happening
It's all backwards
I got it backwards

Having a relationship, keeping it secure
Shouldn't be so difficult and taxing to endure
But everything I've read and heard, studied and researched
Indicates precisely this:
You can never be sure

I got it backwards
The back is where the front should be
And the part where you make love to me is especially bewildering
'Cause I don't recall it happening
It's all backwards

I got it backwards
I could have used a helping hand
But I didn't know their use was banned
And the future I so neatly planned looks nothing like the diagram
It's all backwards
I got it backwards

"Bachelorhood"

My ideal weight is 145. At my best, those 145 pounds were trim and toned. It’s been awhile since I’ve been there. For supper tonight, Hitomi and I went out for pizza (we only ate half) and a cup of vanilla frozen custard (we split a medium, but did add hot caramel sauce.) We could have done better, but we could also have done a lot worse. Too much snacking and too little exercise have been my twin devils. I think it would be fun to have some nude pix taken of myself for my 51^st birthday, but I don’t want them taken in the condition in which I currently find myself. If I want to make that date, I have just over 1 month to lose 15 pounds and whip myself into shape. Not impossible, but not easy.

Bachelorhood

© 1985 Brian Hutzell

I was just with a girl

On a sofa in front of the TV

Not really watching the show

But not doing anything else

Both of us staring at the opposite wall

Occasionally laughing at a silly remark.

This lasted about four hours

And then I had to leave

And I wondered if she was happy this way

Or if she’d rather I be more aggressive.

Another night wasted on polite conversation and tea

And the only way for me to feel good about it

Is to write it all down and try to make a song out of it.

I don’t like going out on dates

The whole ordeal is a painful nuisance

My life has enough problems without adding more

Sure I’d like to have a woman

But not just a cheap lay

And definitely not some prick-teasing bitch

Who’ll take my money and my time

And give me nothing in return

Not even the intelligent conversation I had tonight.

What I need is an instant girlfriend:

Someone who’d appear and swear allegiance to me

Obviously that won’t happen

So I guess I should get used to bachelorhood.

"As Good As The Real Thing"

This is a remarkably bland song. I recorded it in the late 1980s, and it remains one of my least favorite recordings. I tried re-recording it in the late 1990s, but never got beyond the “rough demo” stage. Just not worth it. I do have a lot of unfinished business that I would like to finish though. A few years ago, I found a guy in Nevada, Iowa that I thought could help, but I was very disappointed with the results he handed me. So the drawer remains full of incomplete assignments.

As Good As The Real Thing

© 1988 Brian Hutzell

Your lover’s got business to attend to

And the freedom that gives us should be put to use

We can get together; we’ve got places to explore

A new adventure -- maybe it can lead to more, because...

I’m as good as the real thing; why don’t you give me a try

It’s much better than feeling like you’re gonna die from loneliness

But confess -- the problem’s not that he’s away

It’s that I’m as good as the real thing

And you know you want me to stay

Your lover’s grown careless. What’s he gonna say

If, alone in his absence, you decide to play?

He expects devotion from a stay-at-home bride

You’ve got other notions and his spot is occupied, and...

I’m as good as the real thing; why don’t you give me a try

It’s much better than feeling like you’re gonna die from loneliness

But confess -- the problem’s not that he’s away

It’s that I’m as good as the real thing

And you know you want me to stay

Once you claimed to be so pure, virtuous and proper

But the treasures once obscure, I would like to offer

To you, but I see you’re ahead of me

One down, feeling confident, and suddenly you’re not content

You’ve had a partial tasting; now you want it all

So you're off and racing, but I hope you’ll still recall that...

I’m as good as the real thing; why don’t you give me a try

It’s much better than feeling like you’re gonna die from loneliness

But confess -- the problem’s not that he’s away

It’s that I’m as good as the real thing

And you know you want me to stay

"Anything" - original 1987 version

I am currently unemployed, without even any music gigs booked. It’s not a comfortable place to be. For the past nearly 9 years, I‘ve been playing a slew of piano/vocal gigs at retirement homes, senior centers, etc., performing the “Great American Songbook.” I really do like that music, but my true love in music is writing, performing, and recording my own original songs. My “old folks’ gigs (OFGs)” have not proven to be very rewarding creatively. I’m happy to be done with them. Now, however, I have this void to fill. What will I do with my time? How will I earn any money? When I first wrote it, I was sure “Anything” would be my breakthrough hit. These are the original lyrics, which I prefer to the revised set that came later.

Anything

© 1987 Brian Hutzell

You’ve been very quiet lately

Don’t look so sad

You know how it makes me feel like I’ve had

Your tears in my eyes

And they sting when I try

To blink back yesterday

Calling disconnected numbers, asking for me

Summoning a former lover to the scene

Where the fire grew and roses bloomed

But the colors have all grayed

Can anything make you smile again?

Is there anything I can do?

Do you really think if we try again

Somehow we can pull it through?

I'm sorry, no

But here's what I can do

I’ll sing for you a song to help you right whatever’s wrong

And if my song can’t make you sing, can anything?

At the time there were no questions
Don't ask them now
Nothing never mentioned needs bringing out

Why tarnish the flame so bright in its day?

The warmth is ours to save

Can anything make you smile again?

Is there anything I can do?

Do you really think if we try again

Somehow we can pull it through?

I'm sorry, no

But here's what I can do

I’ll sing for you a song to help you right whatever’s wrong

And if my song can’t make you sing, can anything?

Can anything make you see that anything won't be the same?
Remembered as it was, it doesn't need anything
Well, one thing you should know, even though everything's changed
"We'll always have Paris," and that means everything

Can anything make you smile again?

Is there anything I can do?

Do you really think if we try again

Somehow we can pull it through?

I'm sorry, no

But here's what I can do

I’ll sing for you a song to help you right whatever’s wrong

And if my song can’t make you sing, can anything?

Flickr

I've been putting a few new pictures up on my Flickr page. A few older shots as well. You can get in on all the fun and excitement here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/voosk/

I've been struggling lately with the role music and creativity should play in my life. For most of my life, I've considered myself a Musician, albeit occasionally one who had to resort to other forms of work to earn money. For the past couple of months though, I've hardly been practicing at all. Furthermore, I've been regarding my few gigs as unpleasant intrusions on my day. What sort of attitude is that? It's a frustrated and disillusioned one. Doubts and fears are urging me to give up the arts altogether, go back to school, and "get a real job."

AAAUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!

"Farm Country"

“Farm Country”
© 2002 Brian Hutzell
13 x 10 x 1 inches
milk paint on wood

Though I was born in Tennessee, I grew up in Iowa, and that’s where I currently live, so I’m no stranger to farm country. Having said that, I must admit I know nothing at all about farming. I was raised in Des Moines, which is the Big City in Iowa. I didn’t hear the term “cow tipping” until I left for college, and other students would tease me about it. To this day, I’m not sure whether cow tipping is a real thing or just a rural myth.