Just before the accident I felt something break. The wheel spun away. I came to in a lake. The sky did not look right to me, the moon was upside down. Schools of shiny fish played hide-and-seek in the clouds. The water was cold, and I started to tremble. I hadn’t felt so lonesome in as long as I remember.
Let go — it’s okay. Heavy heart, Moonlight Lake. Let go — it’s okay. I forgive you.
I remember feeling like my life had been worthless. I dimly saw your pretty face above the shimmering surface. Were you crying? Girl, I’m sorry. You know I couldn’t stop. Add it to the list of all the virtuous things I’m not. Bye bye bye, it’s my turn to cry. I’ll never get a chance to set this right before I die.
Let go — it’s okay. Heavy heart, Moonlight Lake. Let go — it’s okay. I forgive you.
Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, all the way down.
I sank quickly to the bottom of the watery sky. The mud sucked me under and I thought I had died. The fishes swam away, and I bounced off the wall. Sprawled out flat on my face, passed out cold in the hall. Did you carry me to bed? I didn’t mean to put you through it. The water wasn’t water it was whiskey and I knew it.
Let go — it’s okay. Heavy heart, Moonlight Lake. Let go — it’s okay. I forgive you.
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.
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’m the loser that lives at the bottom of the hill, the very hill that made a loser out of me, and everything I want becomes everything I hate. I’m driving on expired Texas plates.
Eleven million suckers just like me, packed in from the desert to the edge of the sea. I thought that I might join them, but it’s too late. I’m driving on expired Texas plates.
The folks up on the hill have got it made. The air is cool and the palm trees sway. They kneel out on the terrace at night and pray for the absence of rain, for a good hard rain will wash them all away.
I’ve been in first gear since half past three in the shadow of the hill that made a loser out of me. Someone call my baby, I’m gonna be late — I got pulled over in Toluca Lake — where’s the gold in the Golden State? I’m driving on expired Texas plates.
…
The band was Gadjo Bango. I played guitar, violin and banjo on this recording. Liz Pappademas played accordion. Jeremy Bruch played drums. Michael Hoffer played the tuba. Buzz Moran recorded and mixed.
