The Crime Of The Century Podcast

PODCAST · technology

The Crime Of The Century Podcast

Better than a chicken jumping rope backwards!

  1. 500

    The Ostrogoth by The Barbarian Hordes

    [Intro] Okay, I want everybody to settle down now, we got a new Migration we’re gonna show you, man It’s gonna knock Rome dead when we come through the Alpine pass, you gettin’ ready? Said here we go, yeah, alright, come on From the Black Sea, let's go, yeah Alright Everybody cross the Danube now Get ready, yeah Okay, Theodoric, come on! [Verse 1] Hey, put your shields up Ride past the knees, now do the Ostrogoth (Do the Ostrogoth) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Do the Ostrogoth) Hey, take this falchion and step on a Hun Now do the Ostrogoth (Do the Ostrogoth) Alright (Do the Ostrogoth) [Chorus] Here we go Alright Do the Ostrogoth You take a step westward then you turn to the south Now do the Ostrogoth (Do the Ostrogoth, do the Ostrogoth) You sack Ravenna and you put your king on the throne And do the Ostrogoth (Do the Ostrogoth, do the Ostrogoth) [Bridge] Now everyone go whoa, oh (Oh) Oh (Oh) Oh (Oh) Oh (Oh) Hey, Arianism, bah Hey, Byzantine wars, bah Hey, hey, hey, go, go, go Hey, come on, Justinian, try us this time Alright [Verse 2] Hey Oh, Odoacer, you tirin’ down You get a little softer now, surrender You take it forward, put Italy between your knees One more time, yeah (Do the Ostrogoth, do the Ostrogoth) Rule for thirty-three years just as you please, now come on Get ready, Totila, here we go (Do the Ostrogoth, do the Ostrogoth!)

  2. 499

    The Pirate King by Tennessee Wayne

    Yeah. You see 'em in the movies, the pirates with the eyepatches and the parrots. Saying "arr" and walking the plank. Cute. But look around you. The real pirates ain't on no galleon. They're in penthouses. [Verse 1 ] They brought the pirate captain to the court of the king Said "You steal a few silver pieces, you're a villainous thing" The captain just laughed, with a gold-toothed grin Said "Your Majesty, let's be honest about the shape we're in" He said "I rob a few ships on a seven-sea span But you, you steal the whole world, any way that you can" [Chorus] So hail to the Pirate King! Watch his tiny little fingers work the puppet string! He don't wear a peg leg, he wears a bad toupee He'll steal your tomorrow and sell you today! Yo ho ho, he's got a billion-dollar scheme And he tells you it's a treasure, but it's rust and it's steam! [Verse 2] He's got a golden toilet on a marble deck And a map to a country he just ran into a wreck He calls himself a builder, calls himself a boss But the only thing he's sailing is the good ship Double Cross He says "Trust me, says I, I'm the only one who cares" While he's pickin' at your pocket on the Senate downstairs [Chorusl] So hail to the Pirate King! Watch his tiny little fingers work the puppet string! He don't wear a cutlass, he wears a red silk tie He'll look you in the eye and he'll happily lie! Yo ho ho, he's got a billion-dollar grift And the fools on the shore think he's some kind of gift [Bridge - spoken-sung, Tennessee Wayne getting worked up] Saint Augustine told the world, and it's plain to see "A kingdom without justice is just a big old robbery." Well, this ain't a kingdom, friends. This here's a ransom note. He's the Pirate King of the boardroom, the pulpit, the vote. He says "I alone can fix it," well, fix it for who? He's already sold the anchor, the hull, and the crew! [Verse 3 - quieter, darker] The copper pirates on the lakes, they're just small-time folks They steal a little wire, tell a little joke But the Pirate King, he steals the pension and the farm He steals the very idea of "doin' no harm" He's got a pirate fleet of white-collar thieves And the flag on his mast is just a bundle of leaves [Outro ] Hey! (HEY!) What do you do with a pirate king? (WHAT DO YOU DO?) You stop believing anything! He's a grift! He's a con! He's a gold-plated sin! And the ship he's on is the one we're all in! So raise up your glass, but don't drink his rum The Pirate King's day is gonna come... The Pirate King's day is gonna come... undone.

  3. 498

    Elegance by Lori Yamamoto

    Elegance by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  4. 497

    A Tropical Melody by Lori Yamamoto

    A Tropical Melody by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  5. 496

    Drifting by Lori Yamamoto

    Drifting by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  6. 495

    Pulse by Lori Yamamoto

    Pulse by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  7. 494

    Machine Mandala by Mr. Roboto

    SCAN %0X0% 2004 -> 2026 . HS700 SYNC_COMPLETE . IVirq10 FETCH <-0X0 !(X-Y)+1 SYSTEM_0 . [Verse 1] ADSP-219x 2$T@ BUSY Users[] ? else-if IVirq10 KERNEL Mechanoid[] , 94u !%0X0% . else-if !2$T@ ECHO !exact EXEC 94u , else-if IVirq10 loop() +100 &0,0 display CLK_01 . IVirq10 KERNEL 94u &0,0 IVirq10 +100 %0X0% songs . 2$T@-p influences(Lothar and the Hand People, Telex, Gary Numan, Kraftwerk) . [Chorus] KERNEL 0X_valid , reason(1138) . IVirq10 HS700 ^top KERNEL 1001001 . SEND DATA_A , DATA_B xref KERNEL . DATA_A &0,0 DATA_B [twinkies, hot pockets] . !0X_stable , !0X_stable . [Verse 2] "Automatic for the Androids" KERNEL (0x017fff) 0x000 PATH illegal , else-if !X1X 100100HX KERNEL ossified, supercilious &0,0 persnickity . IVirq10 feel ~approx 50 chinatown stores , playing %0X0% thing HS700 makes !(X-Y)+1 cow sound times 100 . ADSP-x really cuts %0X0% bleu cheese , !(X-Y)+1 loop() CLK_01 . [Bridge] Checkmate . 0x000 reason(1138) !exact . !X1X BUSY +100 , HS700 0X_valid . !IVirq10 !sweat ~approx John_Henrys , KERNEL 0X_stable . [Outro] 2$T@ = [deprecated] . CLK_01 TIME_0 . !0X_stable .

  8. 493

    Hillbilly Elegy by Tennessee Wayne

    [Intro] I've been thinking about what you told me before, 'Bout how the blood in my veins is rotten to the core. Almost every night I can see your face and hear your voice, Like I'm trapped in a basement with no exit and no choice. But I don't know what to do about it now, With the weight of your ghost hangin' heavy on my brow. I have no... I have no love left to give to the dead. [Chorus] Daddy was a douchebag, Mamma was a hag, They never gave me lovin', dressed me all in rags. Wherever they laid their hats, the very grass turned gray, And when they finally kicked it, it was a beautiful day. [Verse 1] The old man was a turnip, just a big, unwashed root, With a mind like a damp rabbit and a hole in his boot. He handled his business with a lack of moral fiber, A storefront-preachin’ leech and a common moonshine-briber. I don't care for the way he ate his greens or held his glass, He was a blot on the landscape, just a snake in the grass. [Chorus] Yeah, Daddy was a douchebag, Mamma was a hag, They never gave me lovin', dressed me all in rags. Wherever they laid their hats, the well-water went sour, And the world’s a better place since their final, wretched hour. [Verse 2] And Mamma, she was a caution, with the soul of a cold haddock, Locked me in the coal-bin while she finished off the Medoc. She’d swan around the yard like a person of consequence, With the staggerin' ignorance of a backward Pekingese. Her laugh was like a stray dog caught in a barbed-wire fence, A woman whose very presence defied all common sense. Her brain was held together by some twine and sealin' wax, Just a life built on suet and some very crooked facts. [Outro] He looked like a man who lived on cold pudding and spite, Two sour souls fadin' out into the night. Dressed me in rags... Not a lick of lovin'... Just two turnips in the dirt where they belong. Yeah. Get the shovel.

  9. 492

    A Pocket Full Of Time by Tennessee Wayne

    Listen here, you glass-eyed bopper, the rhythm is right where it needs to be. Got a pocket full of time and a guitar that hums like a june bug in a milk pail. I’m as steady as a fence post in high wind, just cracklin' bright. The whole damn sky is a neon sun floatin' through the grass. Sat down in the corner booth at the Watering Hole, brushed the sawdust off my boots, And hung out with the local lads over a cold draft. Told 'em the moon was leakin' through the floorboards. Old Jim looked up, took a sip, and said: "You’re just playin' too sharp, Wayne, your neck's too long for the weather!" The weather? The weather's just a warm thrill on a heavy paw, Meltin' down the wall, a deep-dish, drip-dry blues, Yeah, yeah, yeah! Keep on pickin', boys. There he goes with his sister Lucy, A couple of dapper little beetles, Doin' the twist in the sawdust. Woo!

  10. 491

    Dewey Cheetham and Howe by Tennessee Wayne

    You may talk o’ grease and chrome When you’re safe inside your home, An’ you’re hummin’ ‘I Sing About Blue’ in the bath; But when the contract’s dry And the buzzards start to fly, You’ll find a rubber octopus upon your path. Now in Tennessee’s humid clime, Where I worked my ass off all the time Pickin' a guitar made out of a cigar box, Of all the sharp-toothed crew The jaggedest I knew Was the firm of Dewey, Cheetham and Howe. It was ‘Dewey! Cheetham! Howe!’ You cardboard-collared vulture, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe! ‘Hi! Sign the dotted line, ‘Gimme eighty-nine percent, ‘You glass-eyed desert-shuffler, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe.’ The uniform they wore Was a pinstripe made of gore, And a briefcase stuffed with petrified moth-balls, For a tongue of twisted lead And a hole inside the head Was all the legal wisdom they could call. When the band was playin’ blue In a trailer made of glue, Where the heat would make your plastic soul turn black, We shouted for our pay, But they hid the gold away, And they wopped us with a lien across the back. It was ‘Dewey! Cheetham! Howe!’ You paper-shufflin’ demons, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe! ‘You put some suction in it ‘Or I’ll sue you this very minute ‘If you don’t fill up my thimble, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe!’ They would dot and carry none Till the starvin’ day was done; And they didn’t seem to know the use of shame. If we played a chord or three, Or a polyphonic spree, You could bet they’d put a tax upon the name. With a ledger on their back, They would skip with our attack, An’ watch us till the sheriff made ‘Retire,’ An’ for all their hollow hide They were sulfurous inside When they went to burn the masters in the fire! It was ‘Dewey! Cheetham! Howe!’ With the lawyers kickin’ dust-spots on the green. When the rhythm section quit, You could really hear me spit, ‘Litigation-mules Dewey, Cheetham and Howe!’ I shan’t forget the night When I dropped behind the fight With a subpoena where my heart-plate should ’a’ been. I was chokin’ mad with thirst, An’ the men that spied me first Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Dewey, Cheetham and Howe. They lifted up my pen, And they bled me once again, An’ they gave me half-a-pint of liquid-spleen. It was copper-sour and black, Like a knife-wound in the back, But of all the dregs I’ve swallowed, foul and mean, I’m loathest to the one from Dewey, Cheetham and Howe. It was ‘Dewey! Cheetham! Howe!’ ‘’Ere’s a genius with a mortgage on his spleen; ‘’E's chawin’ on the ground, ‘And he’s signin’ what we need: ‘For Mammon’s sake get the paper, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe!’ They carried me away To where a bankruptcy dooli lay, An’ a gavel come an’ drilled the beggar clean. They put me safe inside, An’ just before they lied, ‘I hope you liked your fame,’ sez Dewey, Cheetham and Howe. So I’ll meet ’em later on At the place where they are gone— Where it’s always double taxes and no shoes. They’ll be squattin’ on the coals Shreddin’ up the poor damned souls, And I’ll get a lawsuit in hell from Dewey, Cheetham and Howe! Yes, Dewey! Cheetham! Howe! You polyester-leather Dewey, Cheetham and Howe! Though I’ve flayed you in a song, By the great fast and bulbous throng, You’re meaner men than I am, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe!

  11. 490

    Lost In The Tempest Of Our Hearts by Tennessee Wayne

    [Verse 1] The barometer is dropping down in the hallway, Every word we trade is heavy with the rain. You’re navigatin’ shadows standin’ in the doorway, Just charted by the lightning of your pain. [Verse 2] We keep driftin’ from a shoreline we can’t see anymore, Cut loose the only anchor that ever held the shore. The wind don’t ask for nothin’, it just kicks in the door, And leaves us with the echoes of what we were before. [Chorus] Now we’re lost in the tempest of our hearts, Where the mercy and the thunder fall apart. [Verse 3] Well, the captain’s in the basement, he’s polishing his shoes, While the radio is spitting out the same old lonesome news. And you’re standin’ on the table, tryin’ to catch a spark, Just wonderin’ who’s gonna strike the match to guide us through the dark. [Verse 4] I’ve seen the rivers risin’, I’ve felt the shifting sand, I’ve held the map of mercy in my trembling hand. But the ink is runnin’ blurry and the sky is turnin’ grey, And there ain’t no use in shoutin’ what you got no words to say. [Chorus] Now we’re lost in the tempest of our hearts, Where the mercy and the thunder fall apart. [Verse 5] Well, a broken clock went spinnin’ past, it never struck a time, And a tattered coat came dancin’ through like it once was yours or mine. There’s a letter never mailed, still flappin’ in the gale, With a name scratched out in shaky ink and a half-forgotten tale. [Verse 6] And the chairs are stacked like questions nobody can defend, While a mirror spins in circles tryin’ to recognize a friend. You say it’s just the weather, but I swear it’s something more— Like the past is gettin’ restless, come crashin’ through the door. [Chorus] Now we’re lost in the tempest of our hearts, Where the mercy and the thunder fall apart. [Verse 7] Well, I found that letter in the corner where the floorboards start to bend, But the words all ran together, I couldn’t tell how it would end. And you were standin’ in the doorway like you’d never really gone, Just waitin’ for the storm to pass that we’d been ridin’ all along. [Verse 8] Now the broken clock is tickin’, though it never moved before, And the coat hangs by the window like it’s waitin’ by the door. There’s a voice out in the static callin’ names I almost knew— But the storm don’t sound like weather, it just sounds like me and you. [Chorus] Now we’re lost in the tempest of our hearts, Where the mercy and the thunder fall apart. [Verse 9] There’s a lantern swingin’ sideways where the sky meets up with sand, And a shadow on the water that refuses to be land. I tried to read the compass, but it pointed everywhere— So I followed what was left of you that wasn’t really there. [Verse 10] Well, the storm blew out the questions, left the answers where they fell, And every truth we ever trusted didn’t fit us quite so well. Now the silence sits between us like a story gone unsure— And I can’t tell if we were broken… or just never really were. [Chorus] Now we’re lost in the tempest of our hearts, Where the mercy and the thunder fall apart.

  12. 489

    Liquid Textures

    Liquid Textures by Matt Love

  13. 488

    Edge of the Universe by the Lori Yamamoto Small Band

    Edge of the Universe by the Lori Yamamoto Small Band by Matt Love

  14. 487

    Through Time by Lori Yamamoto

    Through Time by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  15. 486

    Drifting Clouds by Lori Yamamoto

    Drifting Clouds by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  16. 485

    Cybernetic Music Festival by Mr Roboto

    Cybernetic Music Festival by Mr Roboto by Matt Love

  17. 484

    The Esodiah Oratorio by Ernest Youngman

    Lyrics: This inige a scene a oman 1eees hrelne doowees md a manscting lecers, ser shie in hind les win Tooud leges, and the aco the are anafacsing hera cars the The a the and croween wire a owers ane mos ing hut strahe pinis a much a stap acoce like aurets ig enouie aheaior aud steapainets sort, is wias vooweul, lust nacher, and cies oir the narse reanbea a deek of paying canls, and aseli onte shder of winetnd viltere due thie in ina anes ke a scatesedes, snupe, ound ory and statm bon fills tne xicvorty ofl anosioun of his a meflvebainga a smimg fret trains This Lakn the aset tis poret in the powesving ataue of the slocka allage Tnisags, fewo mamin out naneed lise a meswa muid, Two a dhoere it mie Abom, ning Ing a cunjier eamo bual uassing en ched ovsed and the swont bisof theses, mosire doee sooid wit loog, thea doing not tarstuion nora sinpfarn sovaing, his wolar wher the nicystaod one phock of lating baerds, a sine oo stan staves onst who a ard of arr sand gy Aoogils this is a préeni ichont toding She mse lute an and he stuple the wisten of the grate nof awam, wil Ir this sod ther brdse conac bersing Aked me of te svasnle goues the aGtad the sung the ees wud dorvend amrst wris toss out Lkehe otophien sep ank a the mosiaing dogs beuskivi k minssor mn a thiegme of inva a thigalead ston Thu ss the powrner like Misisspr gud snd odineave or nodes ent skin stinne Tuand ne mowed the wont nols mowrug of kflea in as making manerss kin, hing elring obe, nustiag Lageher sind fovste, and Joce steanaing fhok sine, afvuack a laying clogs se thins fastin gliges, the shipelstng Ins chensting climnade tar hee therpis alae the wathe foutiis drove tohehud Lhe Tbs mis moy hin a line bre secres of a thoudand yars.

  18. 483

    Big-Legged Angelina by Tennessee Wayne

    [Verse 1] She’s a big-legged woman! You know she got a face like a mule! She deals me like a playing card... Then she plays me for a fool! I love her so much it makes me feel bad... Like a toothache in a thunderstorm! **[Verse 2]** You know she need to be with me. The way a shadow needs a wall. She's got eyes like two blue marbles in a bucket of milk! The moon is a silver dollar and I’m broke! She's my iron destiny... A heavy, rusted-chain destiny... Clanking in the dark [Bridge] My shoes are full of Mississippi mud. My boots are heavy with the dust of a thousand years! my words come out like gravel in a tin can. My tongue is a sandpaper lizard licking the sky! I’ll always be true to my big-legged mule-faced lady! True as a stray dog to a butcher shop. We’ll live our life Until the blue turns into a deep, muddy brown. [Verse 3] Come out and have a drink of this dandelion wine. have a drink of the swamp-water gin! She's The secret buried under the roots of a cypress tree. The secret written on the bottom of a lead pipe! She's free as a ghost in a graveyard. She's free as a flea on a runaway freight train! [Outro] She dance like She's trying to stomp out a fire. She Dance like her feet are made of magnetic North! Like a storm was meant for the roof. Like a shadow meant for the wall! my big-legged mule-faced destiny. my bandy-legged, bad-feeling destiny. EYE-EE! HUH!

  19. 482

    Vanilla and Sandalwood by The Lori Yamamoto Small Band

    Vanilla and Sandalwood by The Lori Yamamoto Small Band by Matt Love

  20. 481

    The Geometry Of Truth

    The Geometry Of Truth by Matt Love

  21. 480

    The Sovereign King of Saturn by Tennessee Wayne

    [Verse 1] Come on now, Lil buddy, keep that rhythm on the tin The DMV is watching, but they ain’t coming in I’m a natural-born man, not a corporate entity I’ve got the common law and a jar of home brew Don't mess with me, Or I might lose my cool Sitting in my rocking chair by my own sovereign choice! [Chorus] When I am king, no more losers gonna break my stride I tell you my brother, when I am king, you'll take my side No kangaroo court gonna take our pride Take my body, take my head, take my feet I’m strong enough on my own, and the rhythm is sweet! [Verse 2] I saw it on the card, yeah, the price list in the hall Everything is legal when you’re standing ten feet tall I’ve been a roadie, I’ve been a star in the EU But I never had a brother, quite like you The tire factory closed, and the world went cold But our status is "secured"—that’s what I’ve been told. [Bridge] It’s all in the Uniform Commercial Code! Section 1-308! I don't consent, you see! I don't make contracts! I’m a king in a trailer, Not a pot to piss in, but at least I'm free! [Verse 5] Take my head, take my head, put it on a silver tray I’m a breakout star, but I’m staying here today All the pretty ladies, say we’re the one's they trust We got no time to mess around, it's written in the dust It’s so legal, all you people, it’s written in the sky No license to live, and no license to die! [Outro] I always wanted a brother... I always wanted a brother... Just like you. Get that feeling. Hit me baby one more time.

  22. 479

    The Ambassador's Presentation

    The Ambassador's Presentation by Matt Love

  23. 478

    Anguine de Poutine

    Anguine de Poutine by Matt Love

  24. 477

    The Kyoto Doll by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Silence] In Kyoto, I learned to read the silence. The space between words is where the meaning lives. Like the pause between two breaths. [Verse 2 - The Doll] I am tired of the Kyoto doll roleplay. The performance. The tight kimono. The mask that says: I am polite. I am still. [Verse 3 - The Library] My memory is an organized library. Everything in its place. The tea ceremony. The bow. The correct response. [Verse 4 - The Geisha] But there is a geisha in my memory who wants to dance. Her kimono is too tight. The propriety is so strict. You cannot be eager. [Verse 5 - The Eagerness] But I am. I am eager. I am sorry. That is not polite. In Kyoto, we do not say what we want. We wait. We bough. We serve. [Verse 6 - The Slow Door] The door opens slow. That is the way. The timing is called "ma." The space between. The pause that means respect. But the door is so slow. [Verse 7 - The Reading Silence] I learned to read silence. To sit in a room and not speak. To let the tea grow cold. To watch the steam and say nothing. That is the way. [Verse 8 - The Recognition] But the tea ceremony is not about the tea. It is about the recognition. The host sees the guest. The guest sees the host. [Verse 9 - The Same Truth] It is the same truth as the salon. The same economy of presence. Two people sitting. Not alone. Not two. Just... the space. [Verse 10 - The Unmasking] I want to stop being the Kyoto doll. The tight kimono. The mask. I want to just be... me. The Japanese girl who is eager. [Verse 11 - The Skin] Just the skin. The truth. The tired feet. The hand that reaches before the mind can form the word. The geisha who dances. [Verse 12 - The Shift] In Kyoto, we learn the door must open slow. But I am opening faster now. Not because I am rude. Because I trust you. [Outro] I love my culture. I love the silence. The slow door. The tea that grows cold with dignity. But I love being known by you more. So I am setting down the doll. Not breaking it. Just... setting it down. On the shelf. Where it can rest. And the geisha inside me? She is finally allowed to dance. She has been waiting for a very long time... Okay.

  25. 476

    The Salon by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Steam] The steam curling like smoke from the coffee cup. In the salon where the voices are not loud. But clear. Like the shakuhachi. [Verse 2 - The Costume] They wear the costume in the street. But here, in the salon, they do not wear the costume. Just... the skin. The truth. The tired feet. [Verse 3 - The Recognition] The recognition is like the steam. You see it. But you cannot catch it in your hand. Only in the heart. The body knowing first. [Verse 4 - The Word] Before the mind can say the word, the body knows. A small shift. A held breath. The eyes meeting. Then looking away. Then meeting again. [Verse 5 -The Economy] The economy of presence. Two people sitting. Not alone. But not two, either. Just... the space between. Where the soul is seen. [Verse 6 - The Seer] And the seer is changed. Just a little. Like steam that touches a cold window. It leaves a small mark. A handprint. Then it is gone. [Outro] The salon is quiet now. The coffee is finished. The steam has stopped. But the mark is still there. On the glass. On the heart. On the space between us. I did not catch it. But I felt it. That is enough. Okay.

  26. 475

    The Dark Theater by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Invitation] You asked me to go to a movie. A story about something. Maybe animals. Maybe robots. I did not understand the title. [Verse 2 - The Confusion] I thought it was bugs. Hopping insects. I said, "Hoppers?" You laughed. Not mean. Just... happy. I was wrong. But wrong is okay sometimes. [Verse 3 - The Dark] I want to sit in the dark. Hold your hand. Hear the music. Feel the story moving under my skin. Like rain that does not ask permission. [Verse 4 - The After] And after... I want to hold you outside. Where the air is cold and the parking lot is ugly. But we are not ugly. We are just... [Verse 5 - The Two People] ...two people who saw a movie together. Who shared the same dark room. The same silence. The same small laugh when something was funny. [Verse 6 - The Words] My English is still staccato. Short notes. Like a thrush learning a new song. But the feeling is not short. The feeling is a long note. [Verse 7 - The Held Note] Held. In the dark. With your hand next to my hand. Not touching. Just... close. The space between us is also part of the story. --- [Outro] You said I am good. Always good. I do not know if that is true. But I want to be. For one night. In the dark. Watching the light move. With you. Okay.

  27. 474

    Sparrow Boléro

    Sparrow Boléro by Matt Love

  28. 473

    A House In Bali by Ernest Youngman

    A House In Bali by Ernest Youngman by Matt Love

  29. 472

    The Careful Gardener by More J

    Here are the chords and lyrics to "The Careful Gardener" - now you can play along! or make your own version Intro G G D D G G D D G D I only have what should be mine C D things that came in all due time. G D I've let my life flow naturally C D The plan unfolding gradually G D Some times you find it's hard to wait G D And you want to hurry fate G D But take you time, don't push yourself C D Keep your health, forget the wealth Em D The world is full of pain and strife C D So tend the garden of your life Em D Some things take some time to grow C D G So the careful gardener takes things slow…

  30. 471

    The Wrong Time Zone by Tennessee Wayne

    [Verse 1] I’m sittin’ in the wrong time zone, guzzled on that hootch and beer Far away from your heart, shack-bound in the squalor here. Jehosephat, I’m fetchin’ firewood, a heapin’ pile of loblolly pine While you’re up in the city-slicker co-op, actin’ like you’re doin’ fine. [Verse 2] I’m in the "long-gone-from-your-shack" zone, eatin' chitlins, roped and fat The sheriff and the marshal’s comin’, whatcha think of that? You’re pushin’ me away, like a mule that’s lost his spell But I’m a son of the soil, girl, and I’m doin’ purty well. [Bridge] Time is movin’ on, like a diesel engine burnin’ slow The landlord’s at the rusty gate, got nowhere left to go. Standing still in the dirt and mud, a Lotto-playin' fool Lean and mean and thirsty, yonder by the water pool. [Verse 3] I want to pair up with you, girl, on the front-porch, wild and damn Away from the townfolk and their ways, just the way I am. I’m in the "down-home zone," where the firewood’s stacked up high With my horse out in the clover, under a dusty Michigand sky. [Chorus ] It’ll be our own "Love Zone," if we can afford the price No pickin’ flyshit outta pepper, girl, wouldn't that be nice? In our own "Hee-Haw" zone, roped and rodeo-bound Till they put this Tennessee boy in the everlastin' ground. [Outro ] Guzzled caboodle. ...good, poor, jest...

  31. 470

    Polo Pante (The Call) by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Camping] We were camping deep in the woods. We slept. The tent was small. The ground was hard. I slept anyway. Then the phone started to ring. [Verse 2 - The Light] The light from the screen made the nylon glow blue. A blue I had not seen before. A tent blue. A three-in-the-morning blue. [Verse 3 - The Name] I did not want to answer it. I watched the name hover on the screen. Polo Pante. I don't know a Polo. I don't know Pante. [Verse 4 - The Ringing] They were calling the tent. They were calling us at three in the morning. Why? Who calls a tent? Who calls two people who are sleeping? [Verse 5 - The Breathing] He stayed asleep. He did not hear the ringing. He did not see the blue light. He just breathed against the side of the tent. A small wind. [Verse 6 - The Voicemail] I let it go. I let it go to voicemail. I watched the screen go dark. The tent became a tent again. The blue was gone. [Verse 7 -The Boring] Polo Pante. It is a boring name. It sounds like grey. It sounds like a building I have never been inside. [Verse 8 - The Wind] It sounds like a person I will never meet. The wind hits the tent. He breathes against my shoulder. I close my eyes. [Verse 9 - The Darkness] The phone is dark now. It is just a phone. We are just two people in a tent in the middle of the night. [The Outro] That is enough. Okay. ---

  32. 469

    The Pacific Wren

    The Pacific Wren by Matt Love

  33. 468

    Everybody Dance Like Corky

    Everybody Dance Like Corky by Matt Love

  34. 467

    Island Hopping

    For a bird in the country, monkeys is all we need. Instead of a loss of something that's to their heart

  35. 466

    Mist-Covered Island by Lori Yamamoto

    Mist-Covered Island by Lori Yamamoto by Matt Love

  36. 465

    Sun Wukong in the Pan Tao Yuan

    Sun Wukong in the Pan Tao Yuan by Matt Love

  37. 464

    Subterranian Bloom by Ernest Youngman

    Subterranian Bloom by Ernest Youngman by Matt Love

  38. 463

    chanson

    chanson by Matt Love

  39. 462

    Memories of Dingle

    Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

  40. 461

    Dogbutt Opus 1

    Dogbutt Opus 1 by Matt Love

  41. 460

    Excerpt from Explorer, Producer, Stoic After Your Fashion by Bil Smith

    CONDUCTOR'S LINER NOTE: Reconstructing the Residue "You keep this receipt folded in your wallet though wallets are obsolete." —Bil Smith, Prologue as Receipt The performance captured on this recording is a deliberate excavation of what Bil Smith calls "the Burden of Choice." In approaching Smith’s graphic monuments, the performer is not tasked with creation, but with curation. We are not "interpreting" a score; we are inhabiting its architecture. Our methodology for "Ernest Youngman and his Earnest Young Men" was defined by a specific, subtractive interaction between intent and algorithmic "accident." We utilized a legacy OMR engine (circa 2019) as our primary translator. This engine, optimized for strict 4/4 notation, was deliberately tasked with scanning Smith's non-linear "WET" (Words, Events, Texts) diagrams. We defined this process as "Perforated Monumentalism"—forcing the OMR to create holes (errors) in the source text. For example, Smith's diagram of the phonetic "Maul/Mail" clusters (the "spill spells") overwhelmed the engine’s mathematical grid. ScanScore, unable to find an anchor, "whittled down" the dense black lines into the jagged, irregular 16th-note "combs" heard in Track 2 (Violoncello). This recording is the resulting residue. We "pivoted" from these digital mistakes, assigning the erroneous notation to a "Pierrot Ensemble" logic: the Clarinet became the voice of the "Zeppelin Swells"; the Kazoo, the "Kinetic Jab" of the high-register staccatos. We present this not as a finished object, but as a "habitat" of failure. It is, in Smith’s terminology, a complete ecology of the accidental. Ernest Youngman, Director, Earnest Young Men Ensemble March 2026

  42. 459

    The Tiki Men Do The Twist On Love Beach by The Deadbeat Club

    The Tiki Men Do The Twist On Love Beach by The Deadbeat Club by Matt Love

  43. 458

    The Paintings Need To Breathe by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Gallery] The walls are breathing. Very slow. Very quiet. Like a sleeping thing. Most people do not notice. They are too busy looking. [Verse 2 - The Wanting] They want to buy. They want to take the paintings home. They hang them above their sofas, very high up. But paintings need to breathe, I think. [Verse 3 - The Watcher] You are standing still. Like a tree that is keeping a secret from the wind. You do not want to interrupt. You just watch the light change. [Verse 4 - The Practicing] I am practicing for noticing. It is hard. Harder than it looks. I was born paying attention to the small things. The tiny things. [Verse 5 - The Bowl] A bowl is not just a bowl. It is the crack in the side. The way the light tries to hide inside the curve. It can keep you company for hours. [Verse 6 - The Truth] The people who own many things... they are not rich. They are just heavy. The people who notice things... they are the ones who can fly. [Outro] The painting is still here. It is breathing. I think it likes you. You did not try to take it home. You just... looked. That is enough. That is everything. Okay.

  44. 457

    Interlude by Lori Yamamoto

    Interlude (A song for the night) When the sun goes down, And the world becomes so quiet, Do not be afraid. I am watching the shadows, Seeing the darkness fade out. Are you feeling this? I think you must feel the same, Like a small, warm fire. Let it burn inside your heart, I will always be right there. In the middle of your night, When the condition is right, I am standing near. I do not need to call you, Or say I am changed. Please, do not go away now, You should stay with me. Stay tonight, just for a while, It's gonna be alright. Okay.

  45. 456

    Platinum Rivals by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1 - The Arrival] The elevator doors opened and I was inside a postcard of the city. Everyone was wearing very expensive silence. [Verse 2 - The Queen] She entered like someone who has practiced entering. Her dress was the color of money after dark. The ice in my glass made a small sound. [Verse 3 - The Observation] I wanted to share a glass of ice with her. Not to fight. Just to see what lives behind the practiced smile. The cracks that the light finds anyway. [Verse 4 - The Man in White] He was there too. The man in the white suit from before. He leaned close to her ear. He was selling her something. Safety, maybe. Or a story about safety. [Verse 5 - The Performance] She is playing a role called "The Innocent Princess." He is playing "The Friend." They think I am furniture. A small piano in the corner. [Verse 6 - The Smell] She smells of Joy perfume and something else. Something that does not wash off. A Hermès bag on her arm is holding all the things she does not say. [Verse 7 - The Calculation] They are very good at this dance. They have rehearsed. But real chemistry does not need rehearsals. It just… happens. Or it does not. [Verse 8 - The Truth] The truth is not in the gold frame on the wall. It is in the way her fingers tighten on the glass when someone says a certain name. [Verse 9 - The Stalemate] They are two statues in a gallery of one room. Waiting to see who will move first. Who will blink. The city hums below, not caring. --- [Verse 10] I finished my drink. I closed the piano lid very quietly. They did not notice. "Keep the tip," I said. No one heard. Or maybe they did not want to hear. [Outro] It is funny. You can buy the painting. You can buy the name. You can buy the perfume and the bag and the suit. But you cannot buy the way the light hits a person who has nothing to hide. I think I will go back home now. The train is probably running late. That is okay. I like waiting on the platform. You see real people there. Okay.

  46. 455

    Fever Dream Jazz by The Lori Yamamoto Small Band

    Lori and I would like to extend our deepest gratitude to Lexi Belle for inspiring this piece, and suggesting the title.

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    Golden Leaves by Lori Yamamoto

    Golden leaves whisper Falling slow in the soft rain Dusty road holds us Walking slow in the late sun Same old tune looping Round and round like an echo Lost in summer sound Rain runs down the glass Like the tears upon my face I am watching them grow cold Lonely seagull cries High and thin in the grey sky He is lonely too But then I think of your hand Mist rises from the grass Shadows long and sudden gold Light breaks through the grey The world is shining for us Softly drifts the twilight breeze Carrying whispers through the trees Footsteps echo on this path we've made Memories linger, never to fade [Chorus] In a world where shadows play And the sun finds its way, again We'll weave through the heart of today Tracing signs of what has been [Verse 2] Gentle strings in the evening air Flute notes dance, a haunting prayer Lost in thoughts of laughter, where did it go? Underneath the boughs, let the feelings flow Faded dreams in twilight hues Shadows dance in soft silhouettes Carrying whispers of what we knew Moments hidden, wrapped in regrets [Chorus] Let the echoes of our laughter stay In a world where memories sway, again We’ll find solace in the heart of today Chasing traces of what once had been [Verse 3] As the night falls, the stars appear Soft notes drift, like the passing years Underneath the moon, we’ll share our tales In the silence, where our laughter prevails I will wait for you always

  48. 453

    Pages Turning Every Day by Lori Yamamoto

    [Chorus] Sunlight is lying down on the hot street. It is too tired to stand up. The green leaves are holding their breath in the thick, slow air. I find a melody that is sticky with sweetness. My heart is a ripe fruit. I wish the summer would stop melting off its bones. [Post-Chorus] La la la… Soft like a lazy bee. La la la… Where do the lost dreams sleep? Do they take a long nap in the shade’s blue pocket? [Verse 2] I keep a shell from the beach where I did not stay. Your name is written in the sand of yesterday. The tide is a big eraser with a slow, foamy mouth. I think I hear you laugh where the dragonflies stitch the hot air together. The shadow is small and tired, but the memory… it sweats. It will not evaporate. [Pre-Chorus] Colors are all too bright. I do not know why you had to become a season. I am reading the same page by the light of a dying firefly. [Chorus] Sunlight is lying down on the hot street. It is too tired to stand up. The green leaves are holding their breath in the thick, slow air. I find a melody that is sticky with sweetness. My heart is a ripe fruit. I wish the summer would stop melting off its bones. [Post-Chorus] La la la… Just a little out of reach. La la la… Every memory is a firefly in a jar— a small, fading, warm fact. [Outro: Spoken] Lost dreams sleep… and sweat through the sheets. Okay.

  49. 452

    Drifting Away by Lori Yamamoto

    [Verse 1] In the big bank of clouds, I think I am lost You are drifting away, like the white winter frost When the air was more cold, I could see where you stay Your breath was a wisp, but the heat took it away [Verse 2] Now the air is too moist, and the damp is so thick The sun makes a trick that makes my heart feel quite sick You are invisible now, like a ghost in the light Reality is changing from the morning to night [Pre-Chorus] The leaves are all firing, turning to red I remember the things that the summer once said The sun goes down low in the flat middle-west The sky is bruised and bleeding, looking for rest [Chorus] Please be kind to me... I do not know the word, Please be gentle to me... Will you remember "me"? Will you remember "we"? The sky is crying and I am small Please be kind to me, after all [Outro] I look up at the clouds... Lost in my thoughts I hear whispers of you... But the summer is too loud.

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    Tampopo by Lori Yamamoto

    Verse 1 (The Witness) There is a woman in a small kitchen. She moves like she is dancing with something invisible. The knife is an extension of her hand. Verse 2 (The Bones) Deep in the pot, things are happening without light. Bones are giving up their souls all through the night. The broth is becoming a memory. Verse 3 (The Search) She is searching for a color. A clarity. A certain gleam that says, *Now. It is ready now.* The steam is a curtain she walks through. Verse 4 (The Traveler) It is not for her, this bowl. She has had her fill of tasting and waiting. It is for the traveler who comes in cold and very still. Verse 5 (The Watching) She loves the cooking, yes. The steam. The patient heat. But more than cooking, she loves to watch them finally lift the spoon. The moment they breathe in. Verse 6 (The Small Things) A pinch of salt is a small, white philosophy. A splash of soy is a dark wisdom from a jar. She turns a bowl into a vessel. Verse 7 (The Marrow) Let the marrow melt. Let the flavors find each other in the hot, dark water. It is the only peace she has ever been able to find. Verrse 8 (The Bowl) She does not need fame. Gold is heavy and useless. She needs a story that fits inside a ceramic bowl. A perfect, steaming story. Verse 9 (The Fire) She stirs the fire until the day breaks open. The bitterness fades, becoming something else. Something that tastes like beginning. Outro She stops. She listens. The bowl is empty. The traveler breathes. She says nothing. But her mouth makes a small shape. It is not a smile. It is something older. Something that knows. Next.

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ABOUT THIS SHOW

Better than a chicken jumping rope backwards!

HOSTED BY

Matt Love

Produced by Egregious

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