The Chris Magri Realizations

by John Tabacco

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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

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about

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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Track Name: Appalachia Pie
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
Track Name: Stamp Them Out!
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!
Track Name: Sweaty Tee Shirt
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?)
Track Name: Time For Tea In My Hole
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...
Track Name: Rock 'n' Roll Garage Band (Ramones parody)
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!
Track Name: Magri's Birthday Song For J.T.'s 30th
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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