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Hey Brian, I'll make notes to you in this color. Right now its messy I'm just throwing up what I got. I wanted you to see the story blurbs +  the percussion credits which are important because they gage the length of a line.

Brian Horwitz plays percussion while Mike Sullivan plays guitar + sings on all  the tracks.

Monica Lee doo-wops,  Brian uses bongos, a fireman's  whistle, vibro-slap,  tambourine stick  + foot stomps.

 Neil Cruikshank plays guitar + sings back-up,  Brian plays bongos + glockenspiel.

Monica Lee plays viola,  Brian plays bongos, shaker + rain.

 Pablo Doherty  plays guitar , Andrew Burden plays trombone, Brian plays the jews harp, tambourine stick  + foot stomps.

Neil Cruikshank plays electric guitar + e-bow on an acoustic,  Brian  plays chimes.

Brian  plays bongos, __leg shakers, __drum,  tong drum.

MY LUNG 3:24
Brian plays bongo +  shaker.

 Larissa Ardis on accordian, Chelsea Johnson sings,  Brian plays bongos + chimes.

SHE 3:15
 Brian plays bongos + shaker

FIX 2:55

Chelsea Johnson + RadaR sing,  Dave Haskins plays french horn, Brian plays bongos + shaker.

Brian plays   thumb piano, _____________

Brian use a _ whistle, vibro-slap, triangle,  tambourine stick  + foot stomps.

songs composed by MikeSullivan
are registered with SOCAN



I've never had a great love for the drumkit + am always encouraging  the tambourine girls,  jem bay totters , bell-toed belly dancers + kitchenware kids to step on up  to the song where I'll leave a large rest for them to establish a groove.  That's how I saw Brian, stepping up to a jam with a pocket sized shaker, or blowing a fireman's whistle at a Gadjo gig where he sat in the circle of players with a box of toys  without the austerity of a drum kit. Once at  a party I heard something neat  + hypnotic +  strange. He was playing a plastic bag.  I tried several times for a long while but couldn't work it. 

We talk about that stuff. We jam in my apartment , a little too loud. Then we jam in the park  on the first sunny day. Then we jam in Grant's basement. At some point Grant presses record on something . then we have 4 or 5 bedtracks and an idea for an album.  I mean..." ! "

Happened quick. The concept kinda started as an atypical set -up, non-band  scenario.  No drum-kit. We'd handle most of the bass and invite guests to fill out some of the songs.  Happened fast.  I wrote a word association type list influenced  the local talent. We happen to live in one of those endangered neighbourhoods where ragingly creative people gather,  so the pickin's were easy + we tried to stuff as much wild creative genius as would fit in a 40 minute cd. Did well.

I bumped into Neil while I was compiling the list he was on. I thought of him right then for another song that we sat down with + he played what I was hearing + then came up with some ideas.  In the studio the 3 of us laid the song down in one take. For the next song he invented an accompaniment that would stand on its own - as a painting.



You too  can  orchestrate using  intuition instead of music "theory" or actual knowledge

One morning I listened to recordings + came up with  wild associations for accompaniment


 doo whop singers. Chatanuga choo-choo. I love this recording. Grant could cut out the instrumental track at the last phrase of each verse, although I think the tambourine track stays constant.
Curiously enough, I so love this song that I made an arrangement for it for slide - which is different + you may ask me about it when this song gets tiered but it won't for a long time.

 more drums! more drums! a dozen symbols! this song has got alot of oomph + I'd like to push that. right now I'm hearing the bongos. Although I'd like to throw a box a symbols against a wall every time the 1 comes around - maybe I'd be better sparse but this is your jurisdiction. I mentioned doubling up the guitar. The excellent ending I wrote + did not play here continues to be not on the recording everytime I listen to it! I'd like to superimpose it - maybe louder, over the existing track.

 pan pipes, flutes pipe organ. Don't forget, I like our existing recording alot. It just needs more drums. If all else fails Larissa likes this song + can replace all my pipes ideas.

the following songs haven't been recorded  wih drums yet:

 walnuts. bell lyre. a chorus of drunken angel girls.
This song was lengthened to fill up a set. All the ooo ooo ooo ooos can be either dropped or aided by a drunken angel choir. The last verse could be concievably dropped. However, that all might be self doubt + the whole 5 minute song could be kept as such.

 rock & roll, like I sais  - DRUMS, Although I want to avoid too much guitar on our cd  this is a chuck berryesque song.

 easily accordian. strings but but hugely accordian.i heard ribbits

 wild blues like st.louis blues in emphasis (its not a blues song) this is all cello or viola haven't decided. I hear jugs, Brian. Jugs. & this is a ripe jews harp song. Over the top - there's a string section playing the chords while a rip roaring Bessie Smith trombonist plays the bridge. In more ornate fantasies of this song I  drop my guitar.

I just remembered in interesting feature of this song that's such an aside it never gets used in the frenzy of recording. In the 1st verse only I like to slow down twice:
"I took the boy to a pizza joint and fed him 3                  pizzas              while            he
watched DragonballZ. I sat outside in the                        rain                  reading        a
very interesting book on aesthetics."

Its a really neat trick that I can imagine your part in greatly

Here's the bagpipes + french horns droning. They're droning but they brighten up occasionally, bells.

ONE MORNING THE SUN imagine Neddle and the Damage Done. imagine hammered old rock'n'rollers just bent, or even inappropriate instruments with rock'n'roll themes.-

any intruments on this should sound like a rubber ball. I thought immediately of Pablo + Brandi duking it out, falling + bouncing. you may have some better percussive ideas.

 eerie pipes must listen more.

...(marriage) - Brandi playing feedback (she used to be the reputed feedback queen) + wailing like a banshee on the chorus

unwritten songs

JESUS SONG - workin' on it


Stuff in this color is notes to Brian
-palatino linotype is the funkiest font a got but we could change that
-this colors are just a shot, earthy


I've been thinking about the things you do to me,  the ways you are and how they get through to me.  I've been thinking "oh no,gee, better not come on strong.  Then the feeling I'm without you gets to feel so long.  I've been blown down. I'm not made out of bricks.  C'mon, Charlene. I need fixin'! 

I've been thinking maybe I'll just be your next friend and just hang out. I don't need to be sex oriented.  If you feel sleepy, don't you worry.  I'll tuck you in bed and read you a story.  But the heart of the matter, what's a little less fictional is:  I'm broken, and I need fixin'.


Corner of Whiskey and Rhythm Road. I come here to find me a friend. Momma box tinkle and whistle my way. Find me a letter to send. Salvation stew and a bottle of wine. I sure could use a cup o caffeine. Tell me I’m sad and I’ll tell you y’lie. I can’t think of a better place to be.

(chorus) Hi-Fi, I’m a romantic fool. Ho-bo, I’m allright. Back-rack slapjack and everything’s cool. No coluds. Watchin’ stars tonight.

Sweet Stella waiting for John on the street, spread the leg come on for cash. Walk on down some more “Hey Mr. Candyman, score a bit o your hash. Walk on by at the all night deli, perfume and pain in the air. Evil Eye’s business is all his own. Can’t say that I really care. (chorus)

No shoe Louie’s got the key of C. ‘Lizabeth cuddles with me. Engine Albert’s got the poo-muh-mow-mow soothin’ the sorrow in deep. Priest’s are asleep and the cops don’t care. Shiney cars drive all around. Piss on a wall while I sing an old tune. Think up some blessin’s to count. (chorus)


Jennifer lives in room 304 shooting up heroin for the pain in her heart.  Keeps her supply up by standing on corners, trying to smile pretty, leaning in cars. 

(chorus:)She walks like a lily blowing through the alley way with her head swaying sadly and gentle hair falls,  walks like a leaf drifting through a rainy day when the rain falls as soft as a tear in the hall.

Jennifer sits in the window for hours watching the sunset, plucking a flower.  Moon on her silhouette will not forget her. One by one dandilions swing through the air. (chorus) 

Now all of you indians can wail your sorrow. All of you cowboys can drown in your beer, all of you hookers can stand on corners while the rain falls as gentle as Jennifer's tear.


I  don't  want  to give jesus any more press but I'm told that it's manly to hang from a cross. My folks brought me up to take shit and work hard, then one day you'll be dead, then you'll get your reward.

What I need from you, my son, is to scream when yo're hurt and to shout when you're bleeding. The unnamed  thing that you feel is missing is the right you were cheated of when it was stolen.


I've been up all morning being seduced by women. 
I've been singing from my heart until my head is swimming.  I've been living on luck. I guess I must have something like a genie in a bottle or a godmother's pumpkin, 

(chorus:)but I still want you hereunder my skin.  I want you there at the endings I don't know where to begin.  I want to read your ingredients and get them under my tongue.  I want to breathe your atmosphere right here into my lung. 

I've been refreshed by the warmth of an avocado sandwich.  I've been graced by the presence of an elegant pianist.  I've been treated to the pleasure of a well sung canzanetta.  I've been inspired to achieve heights that I haven't yet attempted. Ah, 


I love my sisters. Yes, I do. Thats one thing that will always be true. Whenever I'm feeling down, man, listen: I just pick up the phone and I call up my sisters. Whenever I'm feeling down and just hurt, well, then I call my sisters.

Well, Maureen said "Man, you just gotta forget her. Put her stuff in a crate and (woo) look at it later," & Eileen said "Man, the way you've been dumped is the worst and now you gotta take care of yourself." After all you've been through you could do better. I love my sisters. (chorus)

Well, Tina said "Man, Mike your beautiful," and Vicki said it too and she said it cuter.  And then (woo) did I feel better and glad that it was finally over. "Hey Mike Why dontcha come over." I love my sisters. (chorus)


She's a china doll from the shopping mall in a herd of bulls from the liquor store. She's got a pretty pink dress and a big white smile and her hair's a mess boppin' on the dance floor.  Oh, Lois Lane, you cannot lose. I got a pair of neat feet and a chug-a-lug-a-loo. I'm a dirty Clark Kent from another planet and I want to be your Superman. 

(chorus:)Oh, won't you be my  valentine, babe, I got a heart on my sleeve and a bar of soap.  Got an eye for an eye and a tongue for the truth. We could be doing the pink and blue puberty bop. 

Come boppin to me my nuclear gal. There's a revolution brewin' but aren't we all.  I'm a genuine product of the nuclear war and I know just what I was put her for.  Oh, Lois Lane, how red you groove. I got pair of black glasses and a bubble of blue.  I'm a grubby little hobo in the heart of a storm and there you are boppin’ on the dance floor.  (chorus) 

Build another ballroom and paint the town again. She's a pokadot helicopter in her bathroom with a fashionable ass and some magazines and a story book mirror and a movie screen. Oh, Lois Lane, you're not alone. I got candy floss stains on my telephone.  You got neon lips in the acid rain. You got eyes up from your ice cream cone. (chorus)


I took the boy to a pizza joint and fed him 3 pizzas  while he watched Dragon BallZ. I sat outside in the rain reading a very interesting book on aesthetics, but one thing I didn't do is think a thing about you

Last night I was intrigued by a bloom I've never seen before. Last week at work it was my last day and I kissed the elevator. Right now at Value Village they got a whole set of silver tipped silverware. Oh, yeah. One thing that I forgot to remember was anything about you.

I'm in a place where I can just see the horizon is headed towards me. I'm in a place where my fate penetrates the restraints that existed without any reason.

The pizza cost $3.50, and the pizza man's named Leem,  and he comes from Korea, and his daughter plays the violin  for the Vancouver Orchestra at the age of 16. There are many people I know who bare absolutely no relation to you.

I'm an a place with a balcony where the horizon is always changing. I'm in a place where my fate renovates the whole landscape like a breeze. I know it sounds easy.


We glanced at the ballroom through kings and their brides, her eye through dark lashes and careless hung hair.  We danced to the blue muse and intricately replaced the crude lighting with our own air.

 (chorus:) Ravenclad drapes by a collarbone. Shin darkens deep in a trance. Braided black hair and a crescent moon earring swing to the Ravenclad’s dance.

We danced as the ballroom was burned to the ground. The careless shoe princesses  married their princes. The wallpaper fell as the music continued and so did the Ravenclad’s dance.

We danced through the forrest and over the river. We danced with our spirit’s and eyes. She danced like a wing setting free from embrace and she danced with the stars in the sky.


It was so long ago that I first fell into you there was nothing at all, nothing I could do. But again and again you appear in my brain with the rumbling of dice, and the bounce of a rubber ball.

Well what can I do to hold onto you when holding on to me is more than I can do.  When I reach up to grab you from a bottomless fall well, you're already up with the bounce of a rubber ball.

O! Rubber, O! Rubber, I’m so in love around you but you love me and hate me and love me. You do. When I call out to you from against the wall you hit me right between the eyes with the bounce of a rubber ball.


Sunday is a coffee afternoon in silent centres
where the revolution rises beneath crispy winter air. Shadows stretch across desire upon the dreaming of an eye where by an echo's careless call you can fall.

The color's revel briefly like a jester's bacchanal or a Sunday sermon sober for a mortal hangover. A dancer takes her place among the street's entangled grace upon the gentle somber waltzing of it all.

Would you smoke a borrowed cigarette beneath a crucifix in a taxi where a fallen angel sells you magic? If a monument were lain before an endless morning plane would your mystery be satisfied by melancholy rain?

Can you feel the spirit's passing through your ageless labored limbs? Did you know the halls are lonesome but the spirits can get in. With tomorrow to fear and all the yesterday's remaining still the halls whisper time and again.


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