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The Chris Magri Realizations

by John Tabacco

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APPELLACIA PIE My baby she left me - laughed in my face Runned off with an adman who sells nuclear waste If she'd come - up away to heaven I'd float If she'd come back - she could help me read her note Read the note that's on the table Read the note that I'm not able to Never should have trusted that cheat in' tramp She's been imprinted with the devil's stamp Found out last year that she had been untrue Checked 'neath the bed and found my neighbor's shoe Now when she comes home to bed there's another flag upon her leg! Still she was the sweetest woman in my life Loved her like no other, even more than my wife Why'd she leave me - My loins have got an itch Why'd she leave me just because he's cute and rich Now my eyes filled up with water 'cause I miss my darlin' daughter's hole
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STAMP THEM OUT! The gypsy moths are invading our town They're green and ugly I love to crush them The stuff inside them is green and mushy Their crusty cocoons like dead papooses squirt like my acne The gypsy moth has a thousand uses if you no ethics The prickly little gypsy moths are hateful little creatures I want to take them under heel obliterate their features I get this thrill from causing their complete extermination An extra ordinary sense of ex-hill-lie-a-ray-tion! As bloated large they coat the tree bark They're easy targets A pointed stick will expose their innards for public viewing They hang there oozing until they're dead and start to stench out I'd like to stay and sit down beneath them and watch them wiggle The prickly little gypsy moths are hateful little creatures I want to take them under heel obliterate their features I get this thrill from causing their complete extermination An extra ordinary sense of ex-hill-lie-a-ray-tion! The moths are furry, their wings are soft and rip off real easy The little nerve ends that are left hanging don't help'em fly none A lot of fun is to take just one off - they fly in circles As for their bodies they squirt real easy just like my acne The prickly little gypsy moths are hateful little creatures I want to take them under heel obliterate their features I get this thrill from causing their complete extermination An extra ordinary sense of ex-hill-lie-a-ray-tion! Stamp a gypsy moth! Stamp a gypsy moth! Stamp a gypsy moth! Stamp! Them! Out!
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SWEATY TEE SHIRT Ponds of sweat rolling down my beard Eating through my under arms Weeding through my under arms Stomach growing to cling to my shirt Don't touch me I'm foul and loathsome The cotton's dank and noisome My shorts are all clean on alternate Tuesdays except for the months with "R'" in them But my tee shirt's rancid (Sweaty Tee Shirt) Hours of prancing and too much dancing (Sweaty Tee Shirt) Keep your distance I'm mildly corrosive Gotta water vapor halo My torso's turing brown Maggots getting ready to eat my rotted skin Nasty little spiders hiding in the showers Soap is for those who can't cope with life My socks is all slimy and they slip right on But they make me a 1/2 inch faster But my tee shirt's rancid (Sweaty Tee Shirt) Hours of prancing and too much dancing (Sweaty Tee Shirt) Keep your distance Hey, I'm mildly corrosive The girl's and I are all dripping It pays to save at the Bowery The girl's and I are all dripping It pays to save at the Bowery The girl's and I are all dripping It pays to save at the Bowery Hey Joe! The girl's and I are all dripping It pays to save at the Bow - reee! (Tonic right?)
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TIME FOR TEA IN MY HOLE Shake out your spinal fluid Wake Up, the calcium's gone Get lost you homely druid Steam tax you hairy Carbon is an ugly sight What you look like can't be right Step aside you're in my light I can't bare your ugly face Market your name tag pencils (RENDA!) Park it - your jaded ties Lock it - your sinned utensils Hock it - you nasty... Blacken teeth chew blacken meat Slacken mind eat acid rain Broken back there's no receipt Crack my skull I own no brain Take my wife please Keep her bottom warm Hold her tight - soft squeeze Before she takes away my form I hope she wouldn't do that to me No! Time for tea in my hole Time for tea in my hole Time for tea in my hole In my hole...
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ROCK 'N' ROLL GARAGE BAND Well I don't care about ability (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) 'Cause one or two chords is good enough for me (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) I just wanna make some bucks "Cause my music really sucks (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) Our guitars are cheap and our mind's are slow (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) Using old riffs from B.T.O. (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) I hate musical principals A thousand decibel over kill (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) No fun (Rock 'n' roll garage band) Brain numb (Rock 'n' roll garage band) Dumb dumb (Rock 'n' roll garage band) You bought this? You're crazy Ho Hum You're crazy Ho Hum Ho Hum (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) Well the rhythm is sloppy but what can you do? (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) Our musicians ain't better than any of you (Rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) All we need's a helping hand All we need's a back up band! (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) No fun (Rock 'n' roll garage band) Brain numb (Rock 'n' roll garage band) Dumb dumb (Rock 'n' roll garage band) Get some lessons! We're lazy Ho Hum You're crazy Ho Hum Ho Hum (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) (Rock, rock, rock, rock - rock 'n' roll garage band) I got some on the mic again!
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YOU'RE OLD The day that you turn 30 is the day you won't forget Your memory intact 'till 32 But liver spots and argyle socks are in your future yet So give it up there's nothing you can do because You're Old You're Old Your desiccated skin hangs off your flesh like condoms worn to long Oh yeah You're out of style and boring sitting 'round and telling stories of the good old days when Journey wrote the songs When kidney aliments strike you and you soak your teeth at night And no one else alive still owns CDs When stewardesses help "you" first when you go on a flight And trying to sing a song just makes you wheeze You know You're Old You're Old Your desiccated skin hangs off your flesh like condoms worn to long Oh yeah You're out of style and boring sitting 'round and telling stories of the good old days when Journey wrote the songs Well in case you feel irrelevant well, John you're not alone A lot of people see you that way to Being ancient is distinguished so please don't whine and grown Or you'll have no friends to wipe the dust off you Now that you're old You're Old Your desiccated skin hangs off your flesh like condoms worn to long (floppin' in the wind) You're out of style and boring sitting 'round and telling stories of the good old days when Meatloaf wrote the songs And don't forget Toto Sitting 'round and telling stories of the good old days when Meatloaf wrote the songs!
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about

Scholastically speaking, Chris Magri was the smartest kid in my in high school. I think he nailed a perfect score on his SATS. He was a decent trombone player, an idiosyncratic guitarist, leader of the school Kazoo band called M.U.C.K and composer. In fact, he wrote a very inventive classical/jazz piece during our graduating year of 1979. It was performed as our overture for a show we would put on every year called KARE-IN. I can’t remember how it sounded but I do recall it having many intimidating, complicated time signature changes. Thus, it was quite an honor that Chris asked me to play drums on it. I was always a retarded music reader (I learned best by rote) but somehow I was able to pull it off and that would lead to me playing drums on his classic punk piece Kazoo O.D’ed. “Kazoo” was recorded at Chris Pati’s little red room studio (Pati went out with Magri’s sister Karen) using an actual eight channel mixing board. Big time back then! The song was eventually broadcast on Charlie Backfish’s program on college radio, WUSB. The only known recording of which (to my knowledge) resides on a cheap cassette my sister Laura made off the radio. So much for high fidelity. It’s still got a vibe to it I suppose.

As our high school career came to a close Chris would come over to my house in St. James periodically to record some of his semi-improvised ideas on to my brand new sound on sound/reel to reel device. The ever reliable Akai GX 4000-D. Besides engineering these sessions I ended up playing drums on these difficult, bizarre songs as well. In most live recording scenarios the drums and bass (the basic rhythm) are the first parts you record. Then, everything else is added. In Chris’ case he’d put down a guitar part with no click track, quickly jot down a chart for me (see Appalachia Pie chartl) and then I would have to follow it as fluidly as I could on drums. It was a real challenge and it definitely gave the over all performance it’s unique, rickety kind of flavor. It was always a blast to see a real genius at work. His ideas were out to lunch but always focused. I never knew what the music was about until the final overdub. Very inspiring, intriguing and funny as hell, (we shared the same kind of absurd, sarcastic sense of humor : Zappa / Monty Python). Even my mother to this day remembers the gypsy moth song. It used to drive her nuts!

After his brief foray into eight track recording in 1984 I never saw Chris again. However, in 1991 my sister managed to track him down and he graciously wrote a brilliantly sarcastic birthday ditty for my 30th. I was touched. He eventually ended up as an teacher of astrophysics at the University of Maine at Farmington and to this day is perusing the skies for that big asteroid that will level the Earth. Chris didn’t have much of an influence on my music but he was really my first studio client. Through him I learned how to make the recording process as invisible as possible. A genuine super talent I was real fortunate to work with.

-John Tabacco 2005

credits

released July 27, 2016

Chris Magri : Vocals, Electric guitar, Trombone, Slide Guitar
J.T. : Drums, Vocals, Recordist
Recorded at Suburban Hermit Studios 1, St. James, NY
between 1980-84
Medium : Akai GX 4000-D, Sound On Sound Reel to Reel, 7.5 ips
Microphone : Radio Shack Condenser

Cover design © 2016 by Farben Fosfeen Artwerks

Eagles Little League Baseball Picture © 1972
Bottom row second to the right Chris Magri
Bottom row fifth to the right John Tabacco

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John Tabacco Stony Brook, New York

John Tabacco is a composer, singer-songwriter, producer, recording engineer, and visual artist.

Like an unfolding musical diary / puzzle, Tabacco’s music and art are constantly being re-worked, juxtaposed and intertwined.

For more info : www.johntabacco.net
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