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MP3 Danny & Dusty - Cast Iron Soul
12 MP3 Songs
ROCK: Americana, ROCK: Modern Rock
Details:
My Lunch With Dusty
Interior: New Congee Village, Bowery and Houston Streets, NYC.
Scenario: In which two crusty songwriters confront each other''s entrenched as well as flippant beliefs on the who, what, where and why of a potential recording date.
Danny: How''s the ankle?
Dusty: Still broke... it''s got a plate in it... airport security is going to be a nightmare.
Danny: I''m on the search list...
Dusty: They must know you "hate America"...
Danny: I love America, I just hate the people...
A beautiful young lady brings them tea. They point to items on the menu and get back to it.
Dusty: So you got anything? You should have a decade of songs...
Danny: Just stuff from the last year... "the year of living stupidly".
Dusty: You''ve always been good at that...
Danny: I got a Waylon stomp, a Nashville Skyline thing, maybe a rock song or two... you?
Dusty: Nada.
Danny: Nada?
Dusty: The whole year''s been weird...
Danny: What happened?
Dusty: I don''t know... my well ran dry.
Danny: Maybe I can piss in it.
The China doll comes back with steaming bowls on congee. The two old friends let the bowls rest for a moment before digging in.
Danny: Oh sweet Jesus that''s good... well last time as I recall I laid some songs out and you came back with all the good stuff. How long did we write for?
Dusty: Maybe three or four sessions.
Danny: It shows... all those throwaway lines.
Dusty: That''s what''s great about it... no pretense.
Danny: Being purposefully half-baked isn''t pretentious?
Dusty: Oh you were fully baked all right... cooked right through.
Danny: I still haven''t forgiven you for taking out the nasty bits...
Dusty: Come on... "going down on transvestites?" ... real subtle.
Danny: He was the "King of the Losers" for godsake!
Dusty: I guess there''s good cringe and bad cringe.
Danny: No one would think twice if it was prose... that''s why the gangstas are making all the money.
Dusty: Please don''t rap, and no prog either.
Danny: Hobbit rock? Shit don''t swing.
The congee soon disappears and the bowls are whisked away. Danny notices a stuffed fawn on a ledge above his head.
Danny: Hey, who killed Bambi?
Dusty: Wasn''t on the menu. I think we should record in Richmond.
Danny: Yeah? As long as it ain''t all the same guys... I gotta fool myself somehow.
Dusty: Into what?
Danny: Believing that the last twenty years meant something.
Dusty: What has that got to do with them?
Danny: Fuck I don''t know, but it was never a band... I got a band.
Dusty: So I''ve heard. Don''t worry, there''s some great players down there... Hott, Rupe... I''m sure McCarthy would love to play.
Danny: Wait a minute, ain''t that Gutterball?
Dusty: How could it be? Jesus, you''re a cold bastard sometimes.
Danny: Yeah, okay... what am I scared of?
Dusty: What we''re all scared of.
The bill appears and they both throw in a five. Danny grabs a toothpick for second helpings.
Dusty: How come Iggy didn''t live on congee? Cheaper than dogfood.
Danny: What about Foster? I won''t do it without a producer.
Dusty: We don''t need anyone.
Danny: Yeah? Me and you screaming at each other, that sounds like fun.
Dusty: You mean you screaming at me.
Danny: And then feeling bad and letting you take over.
Dusty: JD''s cool, you think he''ll do it?
Danny: Depends if the electro-shock''s got enough kick in it.
Dusty: I was wondering why the lights were flickering. So we on?
Danny: You betcha, Danny and Dusty... back from oblivion... or at least Bakersfield.
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