The Keith Handy Essentials - collect em all!
KeithHandy posted in Composing, Lists on April 16th, 2006
Here are some of the more significant songs I’ve ever written, in chronological order. By significant I mean more unique than most, more popular than most, or both. Songs that felt to me like they marked some new rung of artistic growth. This is an attempt to put together a sort of gateway collection that can give the complete stranger an overview of my work over time. If you’ve heard a lot of my stuff, you may feel that I’ve left out some things you like. Everyone’s “best of” would be different, which is why ultimately I’m preserving everything I can — this list is just a starter kit.
Insomnic Hallucinations (1985) - by the time I was fifteen, I had already been writing for a few years. I was still too young to be writing great lyrics or melodies, but I got an early handle on what I wanted to do with chords. Chords are still the backbone of music to me; you can decorate it with all the licks and flourishes you want, but if the chords aren’t interesting, it’s just a jam. And the more unusual the chords are, the less you can just mindlessly noodle; you have to know what they are, and support them, in order for it to work. The eight bar progression that opened and closed this piece still sounds mature to me two decades later; I still love improvising to it. (The last recorded version actually flips the progression backwards at the end!) Everything in the middle was a bunch of hastily written dribble, sandwiched in to make it feel like a mini-opera.Mana (1986) - my first attempt at “going all George Harrison”. Fact is, though, I had little to no actual eastern influence, so ultimately it’s a Keith Handy song with a certain type of scale tossed in. Although it has the old standby slow-four beat, I’m going farther with dissonances. The synth sound I came up with is pretty much inseparable from the song. The lyrics, although dark, are actually quite positive; they’re about being able to appreciate something that other people might not. (Incidentally, I remember being inspired to experiment with my hair when I’d written this.) Most people really like Mana, but I got one or two criticisms for hinting at the eastern thing without going all the way.
Slab of Clay (1987) - the only rock opera song that was actually written before deciding to write a rock opera. It’s never been anyone else’s favorite as far as I know, but I’m fascinated by it, especially the chords. Duran Duran’s Union Of The Snake was an influence, if you can believe that. It’s taken me forever to find the right way to record/rework it — settling on a tempo, settling on a key, eliminating a verse, time-compressing a sax solo from a slow version to make it fit a fast version, coming up with a non-embarrassing way of singing it. It’s been a challenge to find the right “zone” overall, but I think in the end it will be worth the effort.
Phone Booth (1988) - this went over well with people, and it had an unusual rhythmic feel coming from me. The few who criticized it had a similar beef to that of Mana’s detractors: now I’m guilty of hinting at jazz without being true/pure jazz. I went through a stage of being embarrassed by the lyrics (even though no one criticized them) because they weren’t really about anything, but in retrospect I think they’re perfectly fine.
Are Any Signals Coming Through? (1988) - it’s rare that I ever collaborate. This was with my Episodes bandmate, Garrett Lechowski. We jokingly referred to it as the hit single that even our mothers would like. After the split, Garrett continued to perform this with another band, and it fascinated me to hear someone I’d never met singing my part on their version. Also, their audiences supposedly became familiar with it and would sing along with the chorus. Hey, bands out there, I don’t mind at all if you want to cover any of my songs. Hint, hint!
Open The Window aka Layers (1989) - developed from a 4-track synthesizer improvisation, the passive, after-the-fact approach to the lyrics yielded something simple, serene, and liberating. Strangely enough, though, it never sounded quite right to me until I replaced my voice with a speech synthesizer.
Ten Years From Now (1989) - OMG THAT BEAT IS SO FAST IF YOU TRY TO DANCE TO IT YOU WILL FALL DOWN. Hypnotic. I’m surprised that people actually like this one, considering that it is kind of experimental, what with the five-note groupings over the 4/4 beat. In spite of the wacky math, though, the underlying simplicity cuts through.
Lullabye For A Fallen Angel (1991) - I was so, excuse me, emotionally fucked up when I wrote this song, that I’ve actually done a sort of recall on it to preserve my dignity. I can’t say it didn’t have an effect on people. I saw one girl break into tears the first time she heard it. But something about it felt wrong to me. Maybe it’s because a singer I tried to recruit for some harmony on it shrieked that it was “co-dependent”. Maybe it’s because I was venturing into new-agey spiritual viewpoints, condoning force, tossing in some Oedipal conflict, and generally being confused and authoritative at the same time.
If You Were Mine (1991) - written shortly after Lullabye, this song was comparatively honest. It’s pretty clear that I felt guilty for wanting to get the girl, but at least I was finally getting to the point (and certainly screaming it loudly enough). Although it changes key in the middle of every verse, its repetitive and pounding groove tends to suck listeners in and hold them ’til the end.
Have You Heard The Good News? (1993) - this one was massively popular. (He shoots, he scores!) Of course I have reservations about it now, because I just don’t feel that bitter about my friends and family anymore. It can be quite cathartic if you happen to feel that way, though — a good “release” song for things pent up.
Friend in the Room (1995) - writing the lyrics to this was like putting together a puzzle. I tried to make the words consistently applicable to multiple subjects. I had certain phrases in certain places, and had to fill the space between them in a meaningful way while working in much alliteration and internal rhyme. As complicated as this sounds, it’s actually a slow, sad song about the loss of something beautiful.
What Do You Think Of Yourself? (1996) - there are several equally good songs that will go together with this one on a concept album I’m working on, but I’m singling What Do You Think Of Yourself out because it actually has complete lyrics. Not only that, but lyrics that actually take the focus off the other person (for once) and put it on the one person you can actually do something about.
Lice Blue Hue (1997) - kind of a love song, for once written for someone that I was actually speaking to. It was supposed to overwhelm her and scare her away, but it didn’t quite work. Seriously, though, it was written for my own personal closure, and the fact that she actually liked it was kind of a wrench in the machinery.
Curtis’ Classic Collection of Comforts (2000) - one of my pet favorites which, once I’m much farther along on the recording, I’ll be anxious to hear if anyone else likes. The title and melody both came to me in dreams. The lyrics were a complex project involving lists of words that rhyme with “stools”, each following a pair of adjectives beginning with the same consonant sound; not to mention the eternal pursuit of internal rhymes and alliterations everywhere else I could put them. It’s about a furniture company (or any kind of company or person) selling out to the lowest common denominator — but I leave it open for a more scatalogical interpretation, if you swing that way.
For every song I’ve mentioned here, there are many others that were written in that time period or phase. If you like some of the songs above, chances are you would like a lot of the related songs too, possibly just as much or more — it’s just that you need a well-defined point of entry. I hope these selections serve that purpose well. Happy seeking! (Don’t worry, one by one I’ll make these easier to get!)
