Camilla (1996) Another one of those unexpected CDs came my way in late winter of 1996; Camilla. An eerie, yearning  meditation on the ache of loving a stranger — or wanting to. Foolishness in the extreme? Wisdom deeper than knowing? Hard to tell. Until the astonishing final stanza, when the lover’s burning hope warps time itself. Is it possible, he wonders, that if we try hard we can see/the view from where we’ll someday be?  And indeed, tonight, I look back on 24 years of that someday-life saturated with the phantasms that were conjured by that hopeful, extraordinary poet one dark winter night so long ago.  …….. I asked him if this was something left over from the Whack days. No, he said, just something I’ve been working on. And there is another snippet from that same CD that I’ll post soon. But now, the evening of Nov 2, 2020, stomach churning, mind disquiet, I’m logging off for a while. My only thought is if our Republic can hold together in the days and months ahead.  Know Hope - D-Mod Camilla - Walter Becker ©1996/2019 Zeon Music LLC Camilla we just met You don't even know me yet Camilla distant star I see you for who you are True child of the night Restless Seeker for the light Burning all alone Girl I'd love to take you home Camilla do you see Camilla this is me Camilla Camilla night is dark It's cold out there in Pelham Park Camilla where you are Buses barely run that far So tell me if they do Who would I be talking to Someone who knows how To party for the Here and Now Camilla tell me true Camilla is this you Camilla Lost in darkness drowned in light Laid out cold in black and white Truly now the way we feel Is a temporary kind of deal We all go crazy now and then And here the bastard comes again Camilla close your eyes Maybe we can visualize If we try hard can we see The view from where we'll someday be To look back on this night Blinding flash of solar light Signal some great plan We may never understand Burnout none the less You and me did our best To soar high to be free In these dark days of History Camilla

Lucy D is the type of tune he was spooling out pretty much right along. For songs like these, he often composed the melody and lyrics on the fly, as he free-sang along with his looping "track" (you can tell from a "flub" that he was lamenting about Chelsea D for a while). A song like this could  fall together with head-spinning speed.  We spent a fair amount of time trying to soften the unfortunate snare sound he used; this was as far as we got. Given the limitations of a one-track recording, you can’t always heavily manipulate one sound without introducing distortions elsewhere — in this case, the vocal. He never went any further with this tune, leaving Lucy D to wait in the low-hope holding room along with a little crowd of other spontaneous one-take characters: spurned lovers, careless hearts, treacherous party-girls, post-apocalyptic wanderers ….and the occasional earnest poet. Lucy D Walter Becker © 2018 Zeon Music LLC Scoping out the street for my heart’s desire Bust out burning like a house on fire Baby oh baby, come and go with me Breaking out the whack for my beatnik queen Urchin in the back of a limousine Trouble, sweet trouble coming down on me I got trouble, big trouble with my Lucy D Hears about a party but you never know Where’s it gonna go tonight Painted ladies in a pony shack Kamikaze with a hemlocked back Buddy, somebody come and rescue me I got trouble, big trouble with my Lucy D Fellow at the bar says do you win It’s deja vu baby all over again Buddy, yo bubba it’s a travesty Every little tale that you told before You and what army, what world, what war Fraternizing with the enemy I got trouble, big trouble with my Chelsea {sic} Lucy D Broken hearts stretching in a bloody line All the way from hell and gone Such a pity you can not relate One true story in its natural state Buddy, oh buddy, can you cover me I got trouble, big trouble with my Lucy D

OOOO-eee Love to hear Walter stomp and romp on this one. Great energy. He’s like a kid, just playing. Okay, a kid with an uncommonly deep voice…but he seems to be enjoying himself no matter what the register. THREE PICTURE DEAL Walter Becker / Larry Klein © Zeon Music © Strange Cargo/Downtown Music 2008 Here she stands in the doorway Her face is framed in golden light With creamy thighs and bedroom eyes Call it “Urchin With an Appetite” My favorite shirt — my terry towel A bowl of cherries in her hand It’s breakfast and some headshots That she’s bringing for her brand new man It’s a one — it’s a two — it’s a three It’s a three picture deal I said a one — it’s a two — it’s a three It’s a three picture deal Her new house on the hillside Some blocks above the Sunset Strip The yoga den is megazen The vibey lighting ultrahip She’s gushing on her cellphone The trainer’s on eternal hold Producer X is talking film But the bottom line is solid gold With a one — maybe two — even three Yes a three picture deal Yes it’s a one — even two — or a three Yes a three picture deal Well she’s leaving in the limo She’s sorry but they’re running late The night is here — the big premiere It’s “The Lady and the Reprobate” Now a man like me should never be Where a man like me does not belong But I know they’re gonna need a soundtrack I know they’re gonna need a song For the one Two Three Three picture deal

If you’re anything like us, you enjoy demos in part because they provide a glimpse of a now-familiar song “in the wild”: hair mussed, buttons missing, mismatched socks. Just the bones the creature will need. The hair, the socks don’t count at all; presentational concerns are still miles away. So what’s a song minus the presentational concerns? Typically, they’ll be called demos. If the writer has written a successful demo for a particular song — knows what must be included, and knows what must be cut, some writers — Walter among them — believe that they’ve acquired both a map to ad guardian for the soul of their song, Walter spoke many times in interviews about both the found and the lost of life with your song. You find your song when you decide that *this* demo, as you've crafted it, has the essentials you need to always recognize if you are to remember its soul, and what of yours you gave it. Walter once described good demo like a fire pot. It will carry what’s alive and crucial in your song wherever you may need to go. Unfortunately, he also said, it’s all to easy — frighteningly easy — to leave the fire pot behind, or let it’s heat go out; to cover up the essence of your song with things — instruments; arrangements; obsessions over bob essentials, infatuations with process and tools, too much self-consciousness about your own performances — until soon you can’t remember why you even wrote this song in the first place. And unless you scrape all the obscuring stuff off, toss it out and go back to I, finishing this song will become nothing but a soulless slog. :::: The 4 note refrain of “Paging Audrey…” had been around for at least 10 years. During that time, several women, most pets, one car, and even pasta, for a while, were paged. Ha ha, then, woah! one day, there was a song….with a tale more personal and absorbent of sorrow than i’ve ever seen him tell. I find Walter’s singing here to be frankly devastating; so open, no ego, utterly unconcerned with public presentation, but palpably attuned to the emotion —the demo’s and his own —as it moved and rolled in every moment, I almost feel I’m eavesdropping into a very private moment; the first communion, at last, between a soulful singer and the essential soul of his partner, the song. PAGING AUDREY Walter Becker / Larry Klein © Zeon Music © Strange Cargo/Downtown Music 2008 In the littlest hours ‘tween the dusk and dawn While the nightlight glows with the music on You could climb so high in the dreamtime sky And go anywhere In that sometime place ever lost somehow In the here and gone or the there and now Did it all go bust — crumble down in dust Or just slip away Paging Audrey Any random star Lost and lonely Somewhere very far Paging Audrey Come in from the cold In that far-off room drenched in desert sun Evil words were spoke — dirty deeds were done Could we sail back there snatch them from the air I dare anyone Can we stand right here, call them back and say Those were never meant to be heard that way Let the heavens crack — let the day go black I’d give anything Paging Audrey Somewhere very near Safe and silent There you are my dear Paging Audrey Anybody home In a distant room certain things were said As the loved one lies on the love-torn bed And the night rolls on and by light of dawn You’re not anywhere Paging Audrey This is who we are Do remember On any random star Paging Audrey Come in strong and pure

(Becker/Klein © Zeon LLC © Strange Cargo/Downtown Music 2008/2018) Historically, Donald and Walter used working titles for their songs right up until the final mix, at which point the tune would miraculously sprout it's full and final title. This one, written by Walter and Larry Klein during the Circus Money era, was known as “Couchies” and will remain known as such until that time when and if the fuller song is posted. This demo also nicely illustrates one way Walter managed to squeeze in more bass playing, which we all know he loved, and which many of us love right back; many of his demos had midi keyboards and beats, but live bass. This is one. And man, is that bass ever the bomb (imho ‘natch)

(Becker/Fagen ©Zeon LLC 1992 / ©Freejunket Music 1992) Trouble on the left, trouble on the right Trouble in front of you The yellow man is still the mellow man You know what you gotta do No mistake my friend they seen your end She'll take it out of you Buddy, it's your skin, where do I come in To begin doubting you You got Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds Now that's three sisters shaking At the same time Summertime is here, lust is everywhere This is your lucky day Dance that little dance, give yourself a chance Say what you wanna say Its a trip I swear when they find you there Asleep at the matinee I just wanna be in the balcony When they give the bride away Is it Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds You got three sisters shaking At the same time Trouble on the left, trouble on the right Trouble in front of you A yellow man is still a mellow man You know what you gotta do You take Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds You got three sisters shaking At the same time

(Becker/Fagen ©Zeon LLC 1992 / ©Freejunket Music 1992) Adam Rogers - Guitar Dean Parks - Guitar Fima Ephron - Bass Ben Perowsky - Drums John Beasley - Keyboards Dave Russell & Roger Nichols - Engineers Trouble on the left, trouble on the right Trouble in front of you The yellow man is still the mellow man You know what you gotta do No mistake my friend they seen your end She'll take it out of you Buddy, it's your skin, where do I come in To begin doubting you You got Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds Now that's three sisters shaking At the same time Summertime is here, lust is everywhere This is your lucky day Dance that little dance, give yourself a chance Say what you wanna say Its a trip I swear when they find you there Asleep at the matinee I just wanna be in the balcony When they give the bride away Is it Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds You got three sisters shaking At the same time Trouble on the left, trouble on the right Trouble in front of you A yellow man is still a mellow man You know what you gotta do You take Dana with the vibe And Annie with the heavenly body Carrie with the furs and diamonds You got three sisters shaking At the same time

(Words & Music: Walter Becker ­ ©Zeon LLC 1993/2018) This track, elsewhere part of the mythical Slim's gig in San Francisco, is heard here as an in studio rehearsal with the following musicians: Adam Rogers - Guitar Fima Ephron - Bass Ben Perowsky - Drums John Beasley - Keyboards Dave Russell - Engineer Roger Nichols - Engineer Ill wind bad intentions Blowing crazy off the fire escape Come on baby please shut the window Give your sweet man a break Now but you’re not even in my bed no Or in the kitchen or on the phone And thats how I come to find out My good thing is up and gone Say what am I to do Jump up and chasing after you Please remember if not now Some day some way somehow You're all I got Cinder Annie I'm no good on my own Ready or not Cinder Annie Annie please come home You know what I like Cinder Annie So throw a dog a bone Say you're coming back Cinder Annie My Annie please come home And who is that crying in the front room Dancing crazy by candlelight Oh yeah that's just my TV I like to let it play all night Sounded like your redheaded girlfriend You remember she loves me Maybe she could come over Keep a lonely soul company Looking good in that black knit dress Help me tidy up this mess Trying to hold the fortress down Until you come around In case you forgot Cinder Annie I'm no good on my own Ready or not Cinder Annie My Annie please come home You know what I like Cinder Annie So throw a dog a bone Say you're coming back Cinder Annie My Annie please come home Every night from dusk till dawn Cat is going plants are gone I don't know where we went wrong So come on don't wait too long In case you forgot got Cinder Annie I'm no good on my own Ready or not Cinder Annie My Annie please come home You know what I like Cinder Annie So throw a dog a bone Say you're coming back Cinder Annie My Annie please come home

By Walter Becker & Larry Klein He made me laugh He made me cry He smoked his stoggies in bed But I'm all right I'm all right I've been lonely before I asked the boy for a few kind words He gave me a novel instead But I'm all right I'm all right I've been lonely before It's fine, it's OK It was wrong either way I just wanted to say There isn't much fun when you're drinking wine He got drunk, he fell down He threw a few of my things around But I'm all right I'm all right I've been lonely before I'd like to believe healthy cigarettes But I have to conceive that wherever you are You're still driving my car Sticks and stones break my bones But tears don't leave any scars So I'm all alright I'm all alright I've been lonely before Mm, I'm all alright I'm all alright I'm all alright Yeah He played solitaire in bed Used to blow bubbles in bed He sang Christmas songs in bed

By Walter Becker, Larry Klein, & Madeline Peyroux You can't do me, you can't do me, you can't do me the way you did before You can't do me, you can't do me, you can't do me the way you did before 'Cause when you do, and when you do, 'cause when you do, you know I get so blue! When you do, and when you do, 'cause when you do, you know I get so blue and I go Down like a deep sea diver, out like a Coltrane tenor-man, Lost like a Chinese war, baby gone, gone, gone! Blewed like a Mississippi sharecropper, screwed like a high-school cheerleader, Tattooed like a popeyed sailorman − gone, gone, gone! I should have been, I should have been, I should have been a pair of ragged claws. I should have been, I should have been, I should have been a pair of ragged claws. And for a while, for just a while, for a good long while you'd see me smile, smile, smile I'd crawl the seas on my bony knees, no apologies for my brave new style. I wouldn't go Bust like an internet millionaire, boom like a Lebanese belly-dancer, Bang like a new year's firecracker − gone, gone, gone! I wouldn't get Bent like a rattan rockin' chair, blanked like a last place also ran, Burned like an Arkansas griddlecake − gone, gone, gone! I should have been, I should have been, I should have been a pair of ragged claws. And if I was, if I was, if I was then I'd complain no more. And for a while, for just a while, for a good long while you'd see me smile, smile, smile. I'd crawl the seas, on my bony knees, no apologies for my brave new style. I wouldn't get Wrecked like a rebel on a racetrack, jacked like a '51 Cadillac, Macked like a bunny in a mansion − gone, gone, gone! Spitooned like an Alabama 'backy wad, harpooned in a Melville sailor yard, Cartooned like a Charlie Brown Christmas card − gone, gone, gone! Schooled like a milk money bully whip, sued like a teenage downloader, Unglued like a bull in a china shop − gone, gone, gone! Cranked like a speed freak high-roller, yanked like a little league ball swatter, Spanked like a fly on a bar counter − gone, gone, gone! Duked like a pistol whipped card swapper, rebuked like a Bible Belt border crosser Juked like a payola chart topper − gone, gone, gone

By Walter Becker, Larry Klein, & Madeline Peyroux I remember what my daddy taught me 'Bout how warm whisky is in a cold ditch And one more thing about good and evil You can't tell which is which Well, if the rest is lost to history Or maybe wasted on a fool like me And that these bare bones Would leave me something after all Old Hamlet's done now, dead and gone And there's no ghost who walks Poor Yorick tells you everything he knows With no tongue to talk It seems the truth is hidden where the sun don't shine And I'm never certain if it's their's or mine It's just the bare bones They give you that much after all They preached the gospel down in Metairie They preached it in school It never made much sense to me Wonder if it was supposed to You go on down a millionaire's road Watch a while, tell me what do you see The truth itself, nothing but a gamble It might or might not set you free I guess my old man was hard to read And I don't really know what I believed But in these bare bones There's something lovely after all

By Walter Becker & Larry Klein Now and then a person needs to hear a pretty story Even when her heart’s been broken for good You know the kind I mean Something sad and sweet A fairy tale of longing and belonging One that goes down like bourbon Once upon a moonless night a hungry heart is waiting There among the shadows someone appears However did you know To be pale and dark Strange and quiet angel of the evening How’d you know I’d be waiting On some distant star Nobody cares much who we are Love is for strangers Love is for strangers Yes its true, I know my dear You must have come from somewhere You grew up in a house then went on your way You traveled far in a broken line Lived lives and loves too numerous for telling Here you are I believe you All your words are lies Truth is the fire in your eyes Love is for strangers Love is for strangers This is all for you my dear I give it to you gladly Yours to have for now, for many a while Let us not pretend we know what we know And if we can’t say why or where we’re going All the same We are leaving When all is said and done Even the true of heart will run Love is for strangers Love is for strangers Now and then a woman wants to tell a pretty story Even if she’s sure how the story ends

By Walter Becker & Rickie Lee Jones We will fly way up high Where the cold wind blows Or in the sun, laughing and having fun With the people that she knows And if the situation should keep us separated You know the world won't fall apart And you will free the beautiful bird That's caught inside your heart Can't you hear her? Oh she cries so loud Casts her wild note Over water and cloud   That's the way it's gonna be, little darlin'   We'll be riding on the horses, yeah   Way up in the sky, little darlin'   And if you fall I'll pick you up, pick you up You will grow, and until you go I'll be right there by your side And even then, whisper the wind And she will carry up your ride I hear all the people of the world In a little bird's lonely cry See them trying every way they know how To make their spirits fly Can't you see him? He's down on the ground He has a broken wing Looking all around   That's the way it's gonna be, little darlin' You'll be riding on the horses, yeah Way up in the sky, little darlin' And if you fall I'll pick you up, pick you up Don't worry 'bout a thing little girl Because I was young myself not so long ago And when I was young, when I was young And when I was young, oh I was a wild, wild one. vocals: Rickie Lee Jones string synthesizer: Rickie Lee Jones drums: John Robinson electric guitar: Buzz Feiten bass: Neil Stubenhaus electric guitar: Dean Parks keyboard: Greg Phillinganes percussion: Bob Zimmiti organ: William "Smitty" Smith piano: Michael Omartian Engineers: Greg Penny, Roger Nichols.

Short Circus Money teasers on YouTube, pre-release 2008 Beckerbird: Backstage at The Gorge Sarcastic Fringehead: Monterey Bay Aquarium