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Headless Household, post​-​Polka

by post-Polka

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1.
Days of the Week Joe Woodard You woke up in a sour manner, a touch of evil in the morning air Confusion breeds contusions, nothing that a day won't cure I woke up in a suit of armor, I had it marked up on the calendar Bad Tuesday, your bad news day, tell me when the fury's over CHORUS: Why do the days of the week have such control of our lives? You don't have to speak, before you know which day's arrived From Monday to Sunday, from fallow to fun day We're taken for a ride By the days of the week, those crazy days of the week They've got us numb and hypnotized No one is homesteading the future No one has eyeballs on the great unknown But days come and weeks go like dizzy dancers, toe-to-toe We learned the hard way about feelings They ride the roller coaster day-to-day Feel this you feel that, they're Nothing more than feelings that day BRIDGE: Hypnotized, no explanations necessary Mesmerized, life doesn't seem like it's so scary In your eyes, I see a new tomorrow A new sunrise just like the old ones that we used to know copyright 2003, by Joe Woodard
2.
A World Without Polka Joe Woodard There is something so cold and so bleak About a world without polka You can keep your cheek-to-cheek We'll polka 'til the break of day This world is like a dizzy puzzle The pieces fit together On the table, if you're able Find the logic--that's the polka There is something so bitter and so sweet About the world within polka It's not only music, don't refuse it Accordions are phones from heaven Grab your glib and swanky partner Head down to the Lodge Where joints are lubed and limbs are loose That's the high life--that's the polka BRIDGE In a world without polka, there's no reason to believe We're lumbering through mazes, suffering through crazes In a world without polka, it's a paler shade of white The scenic routes have all been closed, the beer's out for the night There is something so tender and dear About a room chock full of polka You bind your feet to bouncing beats Dance your way to polka heaven
3.
Wyatt's Burp 02:41
4.
Puck's Polka 04:51
5.
(Rota-polka style) Moderate Moderation Joe Woodard Intro (with whistling, chromatic harmonica, and/or female voice): E6 / / AbM7 / / F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / / E6 / / AbM7 / / F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / D + G13 A13 If I could moderate moderation, oh what a blissful thing D7 Ab 7 (b5) I’d wear a different outfit daily B 7 (b9) E 6 Ab M7 I’d know exactly when to grin, and precisely when to flash a scowl F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / D + If I could navigate conversations, and know when the laughter comes I’d be a happy campout sailing I’d know exactly how to please, and understand the need to be the one E (add 9) D 13 B/C# C# 13 I’m looking at the sky, with eyes so tightly closed F# m9 C 6 + B sus 13 B7 My feet are gripping earth, but floating in my toes If I could stop trying to remember, and trying to trace my roots And be the sunshine on my skin I’d brush away these pallid blues, oh, you can never know the shape I’m in It’s like I’m doomed to this moderation, a life in the middle zone I know exactly what I’m not But don’t expect me to reveal, the inner truth of how I really feel I’m looking at the sky, with eyes so tightly closed My feet are gripping earth, but floating in my toes 2-27-02
6.
Of Waltzes 03:20
Of Waltzes Joe Woodard I could write waltzes for you Until my heart was turning blue I dream of dancing a roundelay Spinning 'til the emptiness goes away I could sing waltzes for you Until your ears are turning blue I sold my soul for a song Now I'm looking just to pass it along Picturing us in a room Softly discussing the moon Matching my east with your west Putting this thing to the test I could dance waltzes with you Until the hour was turning blue Call me romantic or coy Just liberate the heart inside this little boy
7.
We're On Another Level (Woodard/Smith) E/G F/G E/G C6 We're on another level D-7 G6 E-7 A7 here in our turnip house D-7 Ab7(b5) G6 we can't be expected F-7(b5) Bb7 C6 to feel too dejected E/G F/G E/G C6 we're on another level we're in a turnip world we won't be required to say we feel tired E/G F/G E/G C/Ab we're on another level D-7/A G/Bb C/C# here with our turnip child D-7/C# D76/C# G6/C# it got too disturbin' C#9 Bb7/C C6/C# to wind up suburban E/G F/G E/G C6 we're on another level D-7 G6 E-7 A7 here in our turnip heads D-7 Ab7(b5) G6 you can't mention money F-7(b5) Bb7 C6 it just isn't funny E/G F/G E/G it ain't genteel C6/C# we're on another level
8.
Turnip of the Year (Woodard/Smith) Eb6 It's a prize winner C13 a real prize winner F#M7(b5) F-7 E7+ F-7 F#M7(b5) F-7//E7+ F-7 our own turnip of the year Eb6 It's an eye knocker C13 it's a crowd stunner F#M7(b5) F-7 it's a humdinger zinger E7+ F-7 that is clear E6 D6 give a cheer B6 It's made our day A6 it's paid our way B6 our own baby it's a dear (sprechstimme) We all did it and we're proud of it (melody...) our own turnip of the year Eb6 It's a prize winner C13 a surprise bringer F#M7(b5) F-7 E7+ F-7 a permanent pop-up dinner Bb6 B6 (meandering, polka-ish, along...) it's our own turnip of the year
9.
Spencer the Polka Dispenser Joe Woodard There is a man, does every little thing he can For a touchy-feely frenzy He's the nighthawk's pet He'll take a stand for the rights of party omnivores He's a warrior of pleasure He's a gardener of delights (Polka, polka, polka party poopers) Are you a man or a marionette? Life in a puppet state of bliss In the gospel accordion to the polka party bible There is a stage, it's full of open microphones Vienna to Valhalla, the endless beat goes on This little town could barely keep from blowing up But the merriment dispensers are keeping up the fight He's just the boy with the two big heads, painting the town again In the gospel accordion to the polka party bible If the squeeze box is too intense And the tuba's refrain is too insane Heed the gospel accordion to the polka party bible
10.
11.
12.
(surfing the Cumbia-Bebop wave) Splinkety Polka Joe Woodard Pernickety folks and splinkety polka Live on the other side of town Swapping their licks in lickety splitsville Salivaton on the run Rickety theme parks, hawking their thrills Selling adrenaline highs Snicker at danger, snuffing out anger Singing major scales at night Down in the underground, underneath the things we know What is it, “on the town,” when no one’s really running the Show Bridge: You never know a tune until you steal it And then you have to face the music police They’re listening and on the patrol Sniffing around the world for larcenous tunes Alter the melody and shuffle the beat And still you may be culpable Until you confess your original sin, until you confess your original sin Hocketing tunes and pocketing grooves Sweat ‘n’ sound confectioneers Splitting the difference of musical inference With a mind to keep the peace Doing our time in splinkety polka Life in another universe Swapping our riffs in riffety splitsville Celebration on the run
13.
Here's to the Heimlich Maneuver Joe Woodard (A Dance Hall Parable) Let's hoist back a few until we are in view of forever, Of forever They say heaven is a place where nothing ever happens If you're clever, if you're clever Meanwhile, back here on earth, the hot pursuit of mirth Is a fever Desire is a bad and wondrous river CHORUS Here's to the arms that give a little squeeze Here's to the birds that contemplate the breeze Here's to the mind that takes its own sweet time Here's to the Heimlich maneuver We could be dancing along, with spirits in some other dimension When flesh turns to butter and skeletons are turning into rubber You're weak at the knees, your sense are seized by a vision Or is just a mental collision? CHORUS BRIDGE Here's to the arms that give a little squeeze Here's to the birds that contemplate the breeze Here's to the mind that takes its own sweet time Here's to the Heimlich maneuver Here's to the lips that say "here's to the lips" Here's to the sight of swaying little hips Here's to the floor that holds my love-in-store Here's to the Heimlich maneuver We could be lost in a song, delivered like a box of silly putty When the feeling comes on, a tickle in the bones of everybody The flailing of limbs can make up for your sins, it's a given Hugging like your life depended on it CHORUS, OUT…
14.
Bolka 05:50

about

In 2003, as part of its 20th anniversary as a band, the eclectic band Headless Household went deep into the business of polka, as theme, variation, and landing strip. "post-Polka" was an album of songs from the polka end of the the band's large songbook, and one of the more popular of the band's so-far seven CDs. In 2009, a splinter band now called post-Polka was officially launched, focused on the Headless polka tunes, with new tunes, gigging and recording its future. Polka was alway part of the Headless Household pantry--along with elements of jazz, free improv, surf music, lyrical ECM-ishness, noisephonics, soupy balladry, faux Euro sounds, C&W, and, of course, polka. That tendency revealed itself on the 1987 debut album, with the tune "Isle of Hugh."

post-Polka's idea of polka revolves around the conviction that polka is a great music, and a style easily molded into new, experimental forms, with humor sauce on the side. Sincerity and slipperiness add up to a new polka house blend. Noted photographer Richard Ross, who has kindly supplied the two previous Headless Household CD cover images (Free Association and mockhausen) lends his weirdly perfect, dream-colored cover image to the project.

The musical map of post-Polka includes more-or-less straight polka tunes ("Days of the Week," "A World Without Polka," "Spencer the Polka Dispenser"), but also touches of cumbia ("Puck's Polka"), a moody art-pop-polka number ("Moderate Moderation"), an actual waltz ("Of Waltzes"), and instrumental side trips ("Wyatt's Burp," "Picture of Health," the digital deconstruction piece "Divertimental" and the surprisingly tender closer, "Bolka"). Also included are two tunes ("We're On Another Level," "Turnip of the Year") from the musical Turnip Family Secrets, by Joe Woodard and Michael Smith.

The album's two-year recording process unfolded first at the popular and now defunct Riviera Studios, with Wayne Sabbak at the helm. Later, operations moved up to the studio-with-a-view known as The Tompound. The core band (Dick Dunlap, keys, Tom Lackner, percussives, Chris Symer, bass, Joe Woodard, guitar/songsmithing) got plenty of help from gifted guests. Lead vocalist Julie Christensen's diverse resume includes work with her band Divine Horsemen, vocalizing with Leonard Cohen, and her own solo recordings. Here, she latches onto the polka spirit heartily. Glen Philips, formerly of Toad the Wet Sprocket and now of Glen Philips, sings in a moody-cool voice on "Moderate Moderation" and "Of Waltzes," and Spencer Barnitz sings bouncily on the sort-of custom-made "Spencer the Polka Dispenser." Ellen Turner, Allegra Heidelinde and Shelly Rudolph are designated as vocal "polkettes."

Blues harmonica wizard Tom Ball inserts choice licks and Bill Flores atmospheric caulking on pedal steel, along with fine playing by trumpeters Jeff Elliott, Nate Birkey and Jeff Kaiser, violinist Sally Barr, and all-purpose reed player Tom Buckner, working wonders on sax and bass clarinet. Guest bassists Jim Connolly, David Piltch, and Kenny Edwards also pitched in.

In short, it was a time-released polka party posse. Thanks for listening. Hope ya' like it.

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released May 7, 2003

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post-Polka Santa Barbara, California

In 2003, the eclectic band Headless Household went deep into the business of polka, as theme, variation, and landing strip. "post-Polka" was an album of songs from the polka end of the the band's large songbook, and one of the more popular of the band's CDs. In 2009, a splinter band called post-Polka was born, focused on Headless polka tunes, old and new, gigging and recording its future. ... more

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