“Better you than whiskey…” (aka EveryDay May: day 31)

I’m going to share a little bit of my musical with you guys.

Thus far, I’ve been pretty careful about what I say (or rather, do not say) about my show. I haven’t posted many, if any, lyrics, and haven’t said much about the plot for the sake of my creative safety. The internet is a dangerously accessible place. But copyrighting is underway, my records or right are sound, and I think this particular scene is safe to share, and I wanted this last post for EveryDay May to be a bit different. (Also, funny thing – there’s a lead character named “Marissa” or “Rissa” in the show, even though I wrote and named her well before I met Rissa Durham. Pretty cool.)

Frankly is a one act musical about a man named Frank who goes to work one day, watches the news, and finds out that, surprise, the world is going to end in 73 hours. Not fun. His ex-girlfriend is newly pregnant, but the baby will never be born. He’s just landed the career of a lifetime, but he’ll never see a paycheck. Initially, he isn’t sure what to do during his last days on earth. He goes to a bar, and sits down with a glass of whiskey (Tullamore Dew, a personal favorite of mine), and asks the bartender, Gabe, for advice. Gabe tells him he’s an idiot, and Frank calls his ex, Marissa, and leaves her a voicemail message, in the form of a song called Tullamore Dew/Marissa.

This was the first song that I wrote, one of my initial creative moments for this show. I penned it over a couple of hours late at night almost two years ago. I knew at that moment, back then that this was going to happen for real. I was going to write a musical, no turning back. Right now, this scene falls at the end of the show’s first third.

I can’t play piano well at all. I can pluck a couple chords, but I’ve been a singer the majority of my life, not an instrumental musician. In previews, I played a five or six chord progression with one hand, and sang the song for my boss, trusting that he trusted me. Just writing the lead sheets was a struggle for me – thank god for the orchestrator I hired, who can take my simple chord progression and arrange the piece for piano, cello, and violins.

Below is a link to a file holding a rough recording of the song, from early previews. Obviously, it’s me singing instead of my supremely talented leading man, Kyle Goodbred, and I know I  rushed it a bit, but it was the song that sold the piece to my theatre company. The sound quality isn’t awesome – you can hear the cicadas outside if you listen hard, and it gets loud enough to feedback a little. But you can hear it all. Take a listen. Lyrics are below.

I’d rather have you than this whiskey.
I’d rather have you than this briefcase;
you, and a baby, and family,
and being a father and husband, than this worthless job.
Marissa, who knew?

I’d rather have “then” than this “now.”
I’d rather have you back somehow.
With career and a business and Armani suits,
a second house in New York, and an Audi, too,
Rissa, I’d rather you than this Tullamore Dew,
and the baby, too.
Would he look like you?
Or would she look like me?

Better you than me…
better you than whiskey.

And I know it’s cruel, but do you miss me?
I’m sorry, of course you don’t miss me.
The end’s near – let me say that I know I was wrong.
We’ll all die, and I know that you won’t hear this song,
but I’m sorry for choosing career over you -
my first bride-to-be,
and your pregnancy,
deserve more from me.

Now I’d rather you…
I guess whiskey will do.
Baby, whiskey will do.
Maybe scotch will help, too, babe…
Gabe?
Can I get Johnny Blue?

This is really a very short, simple, quiet moment from the show. This particular song, and really the whole show, is a lot about the building of pressure in regards to all the things we’re “left to be sorry for” (grammatically unsound on purpose). Pressure is different from pain. Pressure causes stretching, and wincing, and pull-pressing etching stretch marks into the skin of the thin walls around your vulnerabilities. Pressure can ache in you for years, or overwhelm you in minutes. One of Frank’s many problems is his tendency to drink under pressure. He is a bit drunk when he sing this. It was one of my favorite moments, and easily one of my most treasured memories, to see my actor, Kyle, bring himself to the brink of broken tears when he sang this song into a cell phone in spotlight during dress rehearsal for the workshop production. I can’t wait to see him singing it again in February.

Orchestration is getting involved for this show. Eight or nine instruments. Re-writes are driving me nuts. Currently standing at 41 minutes, I want to try to get it to a solid 50 or 60. Expanding the Proposing scene is kicking my butt. One scene has a 24 voice gospel chorus. On an airplane. Yeah, I might be a little bit crazy.

But this is a third of my life right now. It’s this, my honors thesis, and Jesus taking up my brain these days. My musical is…..crazy. But I love what it’s taught me so far, and the beautiful moments the stage has facilitated for Frankly so far.

It seems like, lately, I find myself feeling lonely in the venture; writing, scribbling, humming, and watching deadlines approach. So the best thing I can do is share some of this with you. Share back, of course. You are, after all, the future audience, and your thoughts matter hugely.

This is my last post for EveryDay May, but you’ll definitely be seeing me in June. Hope to you see you here, too. Much love, fellow bloggers and friends.