Why’s that cigarette taste so good? Dunno dunno dunno. Why can’t I do like I ought to should? Dunno dunno dunno. Even last night I was something of an idiot, drinking until something broke. Woke up with blood in my hair … Dunno dunno dunno.
Why do women make me feel so bad? Dunno dunno dunno. Making me remember what I used to have. Dunno dunno dunno. Even last night I was something of an idiot, drinking and carrying on, crying all night at your kitchen table over everything that I’d done wrong.
Why can’t I be the man that you wanted? Dunno dunno dunno. Why do I act so backward and stunted? Dunno dunno dunno. Even last night I was something of an idiot, drinking alone in my room, looking at your pictures and reading your letters, and smelling your perfume.
…
This was the first song I recorded in my new house in Tucson, AZ. The drum sounds are all made by slapping and beating the body of the upright bass, as I hadn’t moved my drums from Texas yet.
The leaves were dry. It was July then. The birds were tired and silent, and the wind in the leaves sounded just like your voice. Baby, please don’t forget me.
I’m sorry. I was a bad dream. Baby, I must have been crazy. Wait, wait, please — there is still hope left. Stop, please, I am not done yet. Baby please don’t forget me.
Who could ever love you like I do? And who could ever love me but you?
The leaves are dead. It is December. My birthday’s tomorrow, baby. Do you remember? And I … I’m about to grow old alone. Baby please come back to me. Baby please come back to me.
(Instrumental)
I wrote this music back when I played with a band called the Holy Ghost, an eight-to-eleven-piece ensemble that sounded like a Stravinsky ballet about Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. I wrote a feature piece for each of the musicians, and this one was for the guitarist, Adam Sultan, and was called “The Adam Sultan Moment.”
I revived it recently and renamed it “Tango Bango,” as a point of departure for my new ideas about the Gadjo Bango Sound, and re-recorded it here in Tucson. It will one day fall into an instructive collection of new dance music I’ve been plotting for some time now.
Bonus track:
Below is an early sketch of the “Tango Bango” melody arranged for violin and percussion loops:
I used to drink every night. Now I just drink on Wednesdays, stirring the ashes of love.
I used to cry every night. Now I just cry on Wednesdays, stirring the ashes of love.
Well I could get over you, but I don’t want to, because missing you is all I have left.
I should forget you, but I don’t want to.
I just don’t want to.
I once was happy every night. Now only on Wednesdays, while I’m stirring the ashes of love.
In my feathered heart I know it’s spring, and I fly north tonight, I take wing. Nevermind the snow.
Wire, wire, rest a while. Curl toes and sleep. Gray skies, summer eyes, magpies and me, nevermind the snow.
December in the south can be deceiving — balmy tonight, but tomorrow freezing.
Corn been gone, taken, stalks will I sleep. Feathered heart mistaken. Bird go deep. This is what you wanted. This is your spring. This bright, shining passion, this shivering thing. Nevermind the snow. Nevermind the snow.
