With new-found riches this weekend (thanks Brad), I visited Craig who put me right about the Fender Precision Bass: it’s great … for bass players. Guitar players like me need the thinner neck of a Standard Jazz Bass. Oh, and he just happened to have one, and just happened to knock an extra $50 off the tag.
In the end, my new bass didn’t make much difference in the recording, but it’s wicked fun to play.
(Written for the Hope You’re Okay Songfight. Note: this version of the track is significantly louder than the version on Songfight. I also thinned out the drum track significantly, brought up the acoustic guitar in the chorus, and adjusted the overall EQ so it doesn’t sound like so much ass.)
She’d sing her songs and carry me away.
She liked the homemade wine and dancing in the field,
she was happy in her shiny way
Back, where there’s glitter on the highway
the fire hardly left a thing at all.
Kate, oh God I hope you’re O.K.
The rusted tin roof doesn’t ever have to fall.
On 80 acres back up near the Jackson Country line,
wearin’ next to nothing she unfurled.
In an old shack with a tin roof, everybody gettin’ down.
In her big old car we roamed around the world
I spent weekends looking for the road-side faded sign.
But the only thing still standing is the frame
Back, where there’s glitter on the highway
the fire hardly left a thing at all.
Kate, oh God I hope you’re O.K.
The rusted tin roof doesn’t ever have to fall.
The rusted tin roof doesn’t ever have to fall.
The rusted tin roof doesn’t ever have to fall.
The rusted tin roof doesn’t ever have to fall.