Fish from the Sky

by E.G. Phillips

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Decorated with whimsical acrylic paintings inspired by the lyrics of the "The Fish Song" combined with with E.G.'s "Ducks With Pants" "theme" and accompanied with an illustrated lyric booklet, this CD and its packaging are a reminder as to what's been lost in the digital age -- a chance to create something that is artful, expressive and also tangible to go along with the music we create.

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1.
Betsy Ann can’t find dresses In her size None of the boys will dance with her ‘Cause of her height CHORUS: But when she’s with me Even I can see Tall Girls Also Fall In Love The boys are intimidated They hafta look up to see her eyes She gets tired of their excuses And their little white lies [CHORUS, break, CHORUS] People give me a hard time ‘Cause of my heavy sighs… Can’t seem to hold a conversation No matter how hard I try But when she’s with me Even I’ll concede Shy Boys Might Just Fall In Love With you…
2.
2. Sett’n My Own Pace I’ve got no obligations And nothing on my plate I can jump the gun Or be late out the gate Forget touching base Let them keep their rat race I’ll face my isolation As something to embrace CHORUS: I’m Sett’n My Own Pace I can walk with grace Or I can schlep I’m Sett’n My Own Pace I’m in a one-man band Not a string quartet I’m Sett’n My Own Pace There’s no one else to motivate and There’s no one to impress I’ve got no one to placate And there’s no one I need to please There’s nothing to negotiate — I’m free as the breeze I’m nobody’s bellwether And nobody’s black sheep I’m not henpecked or hogtied Or made to beg upon my knees [CHORUS] I do wish it could be a duet Have someone to keep up with But for some reason That hasn’t happened yet I must to maintain my stride Nonetheless I awake in Marrakesh where I’ve Booked a room with a kitchenette I hear the call to prayer, Echoing from the minarets Oh no, I’ve slept all day — Oh well… So what?
That's okay with me and I'm the one who calls the shots! [CHORUS]
3.
Wake up late Still I gotta try to catch the Express But I know it’s gone Before I’m even dressed It doesn’t really matter all that much That bus never gets downtown on time Always seems Just to miss The Richmond Line So it’s the 38 Go down Divis on the 24 Caught the Limited But I had to fight my way onboard The driver, he’s shouting “Move on back” But no one pays him any mind All this work Just to catch The Richmond Line Get downtown Hop off between 3rd and Montgomery Swim up stream, through the crowds All them people want to go Some other way Stick in my ticket, run down the stairs See two red lights from behind Always seem Just to miss The Richmond Line
4.
Sunday is made for loving My dear — Some say The day is holy Well, it does make me feel whole But I don't go To a church And sit in some pew Instead I spend All morning in bed Making love with you One day we won't be together I fear — It’s clear Our love has limits And this must come to an end It's not enough I need more It's hard to explain It's just not fair To keep you here So I’m gonna have to cause some pain Years pass, I learn she's in Alaska With child — Meanwhile I've felt so guilty And things don’t seem to work out Here all along, I thought I’d done her a wrong It's me I haven't spared Love might be blind But just one time I’d like it not to be impaired Sunday is made for loving My dear — Some say The day is holy Well I do feel a slight hole
5.
I Need a Sugar Mama To take care of me And if I had a sugar mama Life would be so sweet Yeah a nice old sugar mama That would be a treat Some high class spendthrift biddy That’d be right about my speed Because when it comes down to it Love’s not what I need I just need to be taken care of So I can do as I please I need a Sugar Mama Oh, honey please I gots myself a real sweet tooth That I gots to feed Because when it comes down to it Love’s not what I need Just give me a short bread cookie To go with my coffee Because when it comes down to it Love’s not what I need I want to take a bite Of a nice ripe peach I’ll take a hot vanilla And a chocolate biscotti But I really need my Sugar Mama I really want my sweets I Need a Sugar Mama To take care of me And if I had a sugar mama Life would be so sweet Life would be so sweet Life would be so sweet…
6.
She shops union square Once tried Folsom Street Fair Since then she’s never ventured south Of Market Street Confuses Bush with Pine Likes pier 39 And some mediocre Italian joint In North Beach Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City She tours Alcatraz And she has to have A little red buddha and some Finger cuffs Rides cable cars Crawls Marina bars She thinks it’s so weird that It’s pronounced “Goff” Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City Those that do Just won’t seem to do Why couldn’t you Just get the city? [break] Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City Those that do Just won’t seem to do Why couldn’t you Just get the city? Uber down JFK Tea garden, beach chalet Never realized how much there was In between It’s Its, Three Twins Bi-Rite and Smitten But Ben and Jerry’s at Haight and Ashbury? Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City Some Girls Just Don’t Get The City
7.
Scraping fingertips Along grooves of grout On a brick wall I’m dancing with The shadow of a doubt As dusk falls Sashaying back and forth through The Mystery and Milieu of You Pedaling so hard Down the Great Highway Towards the Sunset To Skyline Boulevard Or some place untinged By regret Or should I swerve right into The Mystery and Milieu of You? Take the ferry To Angel Island Then Tiburon Might as well be Out on the windswept Faralons Can’t seem to solve or improve The Mystery and Milieu of You Scraping fingertips Along grooves of grout On a brick wall I’m dancing with The shadow of a doubt As dusk falls Sashaying back and forth through The Mystery and Milieu of You
8.
They'll try ‘n cram platitudes in a man Just jam 'em in — he's a tuna can Like "There are many fish in the sea" ‘n ”God has touched each grain of sand" Well, it sounds to me like someone has Too much time on His hands And I don't want to have to spend All my life as a fisherman If I catch a fish, should I Draw her from her waters? Watch her flop about my deck, Before I cut and gut her? Cook her up in olive oil And serve her up for supper? And once I have consumed her, I should have to catch another? Soon the seas shall be empty For all men will go fishing Until appetites are satisfied And that's just wishful thinking They're polluting all our rivers With their lines and constant angling They'll cast a net around the world That's as choking as entangling If you feed a man a fish, You'll fill his belly for a night But if you teach a man to fish, He's famished but he's occupied Me, I’m so sick of baiting hooks With fancy lures and worms and flies I'd rather sail on aimless-like And hope that fish fall from the sky Perhaps I ought to dry my skin 'Til it flakes and scales Shed my forelimbs for some fins And spin myself a tail Hold my breath ‘til I develop gills Or the blowhole of a whale Then I can make some plans To join all those fish in the sea… …if they'll have me
9.
Lover for a day Lover for an hour Lovers through out the night Lover's in the shower Lover in a field of wheat Lover picking flowers Lover who loves her sweets Lover whose love's turned sour Lover of the moment… Lover of my life Love her in an instant… Lover becomes a wife Love her to the bone Lovers in the marrow Lover turned to stone Lover's lost her sparrow Lover in a picture Lover in a tower Lover with her liquor Lover whom I'll devour Lovers in the heat… Lover in the cold Lover I've yet to meet… Lover who's grown old Lover of the moment… Lover of my life Love her in an instant… Lover becomes a wife Lover in the parking lot Lover on the bus Lover kept a secret Lover we don't discuss
10.
I don’t have a star To navigate by sky But I have a light On which I feel I can rely Its source is not the sun Nor the force behind the tides It’s just a humble lamp In the house where she resides And when it’s late And I get home I know she’s up And on the phone But it is past the hour I can knock upon her door So I must be content with the Light In Her Window She is like a child Full of mischief and delight And she is like sage Or perhaps rosemary with insight She feeds me shish-kabobs And gives me lots to drink She’s the one I love, But I can’t let her know what I think And when it’s late And I get home I know she’s up And on the phone But it is past the hour I can knock upon her door So I must be content with the Light In Her Window And now it’s dark And she’s not home She’s been gone so long I feel alone But it is not my place To ask her where it is she goes Still I keep an eye out for that Light In Her Window I don’t have a star To navigate by sky But I have a light On which I think I’ll keep an eye The source is not the sun Nor the force behind the tides It’s just a humble lamp In the house where she resides The light in her window…

about

This album, my first, is a motley collection of songs I've written and performed over the years while living in San Francisco and haunting the various open mic venues in coffee houses and bars that the city makes available. "Eclectic" is probably the catch all word. "Whimsical" is a close second. There are elements of rock, jazz and folk blended into the mix, but of all the words in the world that I'm interested in using in any particular context, the genre ones for music are pretty far down the list. Duke Ellington said "If it sounds good, it is good." Sound advice, that.

Below are some more words I wrote for the CD booklet:

Somewhere along the line I was sitting in Bazaar Cafe one evening during the open mic at a table (the one behind the ledge supporting the collection of toy dinosaurs) with Shawn Byron as we awaited our turns up front. For reasons lost to memory, vaudevillian Joe Penner’s catchphrase “wanna buy a duck?” sprung to mind — the success of which rested largely on the inherent but inexplicable funniness of the word “duck” — and I thought about the potential power of combining inherently funny words. “Pants” seemed like an obvious candidate for this experiment, based on a meme floating around the Internet some years prior (back before memes were even a thing, really). So I proceeded to amuse myself drawing little sketches in my notebook of ducks and pants in various absurd combinations and then showing them to Shawn to provoke some laughter on his part, undoubtedly to the consternation of whoever was performing. This is likely as good an insight as any that I can offer into the well from which this motley menagerie of songs I’ve written and performed over the years ultimately springs.

- E.G. Phillips

credits

released February 7, 2017

E.G. Phillips - vocals, acoustic guitar
Ryan Clark - drums, electric bass, vocals
Brendan Getzell - keyboards, vocals
Rory Cloud - lead guitar
Matthew DePasquale - trumpet
Shawn Byron - accordion, vocals, whistling
Maya Hall - vocals
Adam Thompson - upright bass

produced and recorded by Ryan Clark
mixing, mastering and drum engineering by Steven Glaze at Tone Freq
artwork by E.G. Phillips, design by Joshua Johnson www.joshings.com

all music and lyrics by E.G. Phillips (ASCAP)
© 2017 E.G. Phillips / Ducks With Pants Music, all rights reserved

www.duckswithpants.com


Thank you to the talented individuals that participated in the process of creating this work for their dedication, patience and guidance, especially Ryan who embraced the music wholeheartedly • to the staff and patrons of Bazaar Cafe, Cafe International, the Hotel Utah, and Doc’s Lab as well as the open mic hosts Josh, Clyde, Brendan, and KC — and of course Les • to the folks at Balanced Breakfast and the SF music community in general • to all EGPhest’s performers for the love you gave my songs • to Sarah and Elz for clamoring for “Sugar Mama” • to Balaji who’d occasionally gleefully sing the refrain to “The Richmond Line” back me • to anyone who came up to me after a set and told me they liked my songs • to Jon Willeke, Gina Harris, Brent Shinn and Anthony Ty • to Melissa for worrying that the dishes were clean • to Maya for her beautiful voice • to Vaughn Wilkins for also being in the mix • to Mr. Dylan, Mr. Ellington and Mr. Lehrer and all those other influences • to San Francisco, chilly as you may be at times • to MUNI and BART • to all those that served as inspiration for these songs, even if you don’t know it — apologies and condolences as well

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E.G. Phillips San Francisco, California

E.G. Phillips is a San Francisco based songwriter who creates lyric driven songs with his own special blend of whimsy and cinematic imagery which he uses to give a wry take on dealing with the longings of the heart and the madness of existence.

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