Research, find connections, live it for a while.

Warren Nelson who heads up the Big Top Chautauqua’s Tent show is a wonderful writer of historical songs. Many of them get in their theme musicals like Old Minnesota: Song of the North Star So one day on the way to work I came up with the first stanza because in seven minutes I drive seven miles thru the Black River bottomlands, where really to the right is the historic Van Loon Seven Bridges Road. (No likely not the one Steve Young wrote about and the Eagles made famous.) The first stanza originally just had some stories, but as it evolved I was determined to make seven stories.

Now each has a connection to the area.... I'll let you read it and then explain.

In seven minutes, seven miles breeze by
To my right, the old road beckons
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For my delight, if I just listen.

Lizzy,
Lizzy paid no attention to crickets
But that gun shot made her jump.
Crazy Bill McGilvary shouted
“Dem swamp rattlers!
Liz listen up next time
They sound just like crickets!”

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Davey,
Davey just had an itch to fish
But he had chores galore.
Ma’s fresh pie served as a bribe
And little Jim, he won’t mind
He’ll do the chores just fine
While he finds time to fish.

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Joanie
Joanie had a hankerin for fun
Like a red shouldered hawk
She swooped in on Henry
“Kee Year” she mimicked.
In the bottomland grass,
She rolled with her new hun.

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Billy,
Billy cursed that bridge from hell.
Clinton embossed the back of his neck
As he hung motionless from the A frame.
Damn riverboat gamblers
Took his life savings
So he hung there a spell.

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Tommy,
Tommy never really came back
So he made these swamps his home.
Nam killed more than his hearing
He lost trust in people
They say the lost site of him
As waded out in the river named Black.

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Ritchie
Ritchie mumbled “How did this happen?
Rental piece of shit,” but he hated flying.
Aw a strawberry stand, and a latin beauty.
“Two bits for sweet carazon.”
“Precious what’s your name”
“Oh they call me Donna”

7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Albert,
Albert was nineteen in 1865
At the Spanish Fort battle in ‘Bama.
He was 90 when they laid him down
Four miles from the bridge
He and Rynert used to fish
Sure wished he would have survived.

In seven minute, seven miles breezed by
To my right, the old road beckoned
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For your delight, if you listened.

by Dave Zeman (c) 2009 Rose Riversongs


First verse has Milgvary's name from the ferry boats and they really have massasauga snakes and their rattle sound like crickets. Second verse has the local farmlands and the rich fishing that is still done today in the area. Third verse, of course the Red Shouldered Hawk lives there and it's call is Kee Year... even yesterday I saw some birder guys standing in the ditch on the way to work. Fourth verse, the bridges were all made by the Clinton Bridge company and they are only 5 miles away from Trempealeau. Back in the old days, it was not uncommon to have gamblers traveling up and down the Mississippi river and the suicide. Well let's say it reminds me of seeing the cross that is on may way to work in the area every day; poor mixed up kid. The bridges have history, the swamp reminds me that you can get lost, so why not have them attract mixed up soldiers coming back from Vietnam in the fifth verse. Now in the sixth, the famous Ritchie Valens appears as he drives through and stops at the local strawberry stand. We're using alot of Hmong people to help harvest, but their predecessors were Mexican help, so it gets a little fictional tie. Now did you know that Ritchie Valens at one point hated to fly? Too bad he didn't stick to that feeling. The last verse ties in two Van Loon's into the story, both fought in the Civil War and one is really buried a mere four miles from the bridges and a mile from my house. I do plan to find and to post a picture of his grave. I get this sneaking feeling, he'll show up again in my writing.

Writing... yes this has no music to it yet... maybe never... but it is a song I know it. Probably too long of one... HA.

Thanks for reading.

Dave

Song writing conversation with Kate Morrissey

Here's a great interview with Kate Morrissey about song writing. I thought I would share it.

it starts:

"I am very dependent on the muse for a lot of my writing," says singer/songwriter Kate Morrissey, adding that she admires people who can set a time to write each day. "My creative flow never has worked that way."

For the rest go to 3questionsandanswers.blogspot.com

Never let go... and look at all the pictures of life

Wow... I noticed I needed to post an old piece again mainly to pique my interests... this one intrigues me.... written based on an Actress friend of Allison and the pictures in her myspace site. This is a very unique blog... the first is my re-write earlier from this year that I forgot I did, and the later the original post from April 2007. I laughed when I read it... I knew back then it needed work, HA.

Now the song writing tip... go to someone's flickr or myspace site you really don't know. Read their profile, look at their pictures and write the story you can imagine. Allison's friend had a Bohemian spirit and posted so many pictures it was fun to get inspiration. The second write is better than the first, but I don't think there is a melody yet. Then everything is out the window and you re-think it again... HA.

Enjoy

Dave

Leading Star by Dave Schipper © 2007/09 Rose Riversongs

Oh my leading star
No wonder where you are
If I didn’t know, you surely show
You’re anchored in love
Cradled from above.

Your colors shift like a rainbow
From passion hot to cold
Your costumes match your subplots
You’d change your eyes if you could.

Oh the stories match your delight
Your allegiance left to right
Scripted lines improvised
your world truth is de-emphasized.

Oh my leading star
No wonder where you are
If I didn’t know, you surely show
You’re anchored in love
Cradled from above.

The princess of a concrete desert
An unabashed glowing flirt
Your hair flows out as you dance
Darting dark eyes in a parting glance.

Your voice lifts high in a song
Dancing around a fountain long
You are immersed in your part
Bearing all of your gypsy heart

Oh my leading star
No wonder where you are
If I didn’t know, you surely show
You’re anchored in love
Cradled from above.

The page turns your quirky sense
Deep orange stained hands
Secrets you tell only friends
Then laugh deep until the night ends.

You are the mother of all suprises
A winter bud, a snow in July
You are the leading star in my life
You are a woman; you are my wife.

Oh my leading star
No wonder where you are
If I didn’t know, you surely show
You’re anchored in love
Cradled from above.

Original...Leading Star by Dave Schipper (c) 2007 Rose Riversongs

Oh my leading star
I'd wonder where you are
If I didn't know inside
That you are anchored in love
Cradled in hands from above.

Your colors shift like a rainbow
From passion hot to fridged cold
Your costumes match your subplots
You'd change your eyes if you could.

Oh the stories go on to your delight
Your allegiance shifts left to right
Scripted lines end up improvised
In your world truth is de-emphasized.

You're the princess of a concrete desert
A smiling unabashed glowing flirt
Your hair main flows as you dance
Darting dark eyes in a parting glance.

Your voice lifts high in a song
Dancing around a fountain long
You are immersed in your part
Bearing all of your gypsy heart

The page turns to your quirky sense
Deep orange vegetable stained hands
Secrets and passion you tell only friends
Then laugh deep until the night ends.

You are the mother of all suprises
A bud in winter, a snow flake in July
You are the leading star in my life
You are a woman; you are my wife.

I read this over again, and I'd like to say now honestly that this is not about my wife. I again love MySpace friends to let inside the stories and pictures of their lives, that is where this song had it's foundations. Then drive to to work with it, and lines get jotted. Then drive the next day and more lines are jotted. Finally over lunch they come together and the wife line really pulled it together. Frankly I like it as prose, but I can't hear this as a song yet.

Maybe it's time to stash it away for a year, and come back to re-write it later.

Write for both voices

To write for both voices is easier said than done... Angels in Disguise was written after I watched this beautiful young girl do a liturgical dance at our church; and wow. I thought God protect your angel.

This kind of evolved from that...

Angel in Disguise by Dave Schipper © 2005 Rose Riversongs

You’re an angel in disguise
With unusual brown eyes
You’re a child not in the fold
But a piece of heaven to hold

Your many faces change and shine
With a gentleness so kind
When passing by please hear a prayer
Let me stand and protect her

Take a stand and clear a space
Where it’s safe for her to grow
Stand in back and let her know
True love is hard too show.

You’re an angel in disguise
Beauty masking any whys
My hope to you is that a smile
Light your life’s many miles

And if chance just stop to pray
You’re a gift from God today
If you take your wings to flight
He’ll show you brilliant in the night.

Take a stand and clear a space
Where it’s safe for her to grow
Stand in back and let her know
True love is hard too show.


Now lesson two... keep pitching...

Yes this is out of my vocal range and I've been looking for someone to cover it. This week I pitched it to Demaree, since she seemed open to ideas in a blog she wrote.

Here she is singing some jazz.