The Donutsh: their songs, lyrics, members, gubbins

Oops!  I  must confess this community has been rather forgotten these past few months.

See, we now have a website and that has taken over from here as the primary outlet for the band. We also have Twitter, Myspace and (shudder!)  Facebook pages nowadays; all of those are linked to from the main website. Check 'em out!

More specifically, on the website you can also download the flyer to get you cheap entry to our Walthamstow gig tomorrow.

There are several more London area gigs in the pipeline over the next few months, so keep checking back!

For anyone planning to come to our gig at the Standard, Walthamstow, this Thursday, 2nd December:

If you go to http://donutsh.com/pdf/flyer021210.pdf and print off the flyer to be found there, and bring it along with you, not only will you get a quid off the entry price on the door, but you'll ensure that the Donutsh get a bigger slice of the pot when the takings are divvied up between the four bands playing that night.

Started in America a few weeks ago.

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SPECIAL

Help me through the night
Help me through the day
Help me find the words to say the things I need to say

Show me what you’re made of
Show me what life’s for
Show me that I needn’t fear what’s behind the door

I wouldn’t write, I wouldn’t write
I wouldn’t write these words for you
If you weren’t
Special

Help me through the night
Help me through the day
Help me find a place where I can slowly rot away

Show me I’m important
Show me that I matter
Show me I can bend a bit but I won’t shatter

Wouldn’t write, I wouldn’t write
I wouldn’t write these words for you
If you weren’t
Special

Call you up at three a.m. with spiders in my brain
Call you from the motorway, I’ve broken down again
Call you from the hospital to scream at you in pain
I’m not sane
But I’m not quite insane

Help me through the night
Help me through the day
Help me load my shotgun and blast the blues away

Show me where I’m going
Show me where I’ve been
Show me how I made it through the places in between

I wouldn’t write, I wouldn’t write
I wouldn’t write these words for you
If you weren’t
Special

You wouldn’t care, you wouldn’t care
You wouldn’t care so much for me
If I weren’t
Special

To my considerable delight we have been making great strides lately -- even if we're still lagging behind kurtbatz  in that we haven't had our first gig yet. There've been a couple more new songs I've penned; we've recruited shazomei as keyboard player and Real Classically Trained Musician Who Knows About Stuff, and then sphelx offered the use of his expertise as a recording technician.

An offer which today resulted in this.

The Only Fool

As Sphelx commented subsequently:  "We were only two factors away from a typical recording studio operation today. Neither of us was drunk and we didn't use any duct tape."

I  love the way that technology can iron the kinks out of my voice and the bum notes out of my guitar solos.

Written a few days ago while on the road in the USA (yes, how cliched). Started just north of the Florida-Georgia state line, finished before we got as far as Savannah...

Orange and black
On the attack
If he gets you he’ll lay you out flat on your back
Don’t hunt in a pack
To get him a snack
So you better hang on for dear life, that’s a fact

He’ll eat you alive if you give him a chance
This is no time to falter or fail
Put aside all your doubts and your fears and your angst
You’ve got a tiger, a tiger by the tail

Slinky and smooth
Knows how to move
Some things are so perfect that you just can’t improve
Look at his face
Dangerous grace
Never so much as a hair out of place

He’s a whisker away from impossibly suave
He’s so indisputably male
He eats his prey whole, doesn’t do things by halves
You’ve got a tiger, a tiger by the tail.

He’s not a pig, his head’s not in the trough
He’s not a sheep, he bites their heads clean off
He’s not a dog, he’s no type of canine
He’s a tiger and a predator and he’s doing just fine

Top of the chain
Personal gain
Never has to say sorry, never has to explain
A drop of champagne
A toot of cocaine
Never suffers himself, but he thrives on your pain

He invented the game and he makes his own rules
He’s careful with every detail
He hunts down the weak, he’s fatal to fools
You’ve got a tiger by the tail –
He’ll eat you alive if you give him a chance
This is no time to falter or fail
Put aside all your doubts and your fears and your angst
He’ll get into your heart if he gets in your pants
So you’d better think twice if he asks you to dance
You’ve got a tiger, a tiger by the tail

I suppose it was inevitable that I'd write a song about him sooner or later. Here it is now. First draft Reykjavik, early am 2 June 2009. Probably needs revising.

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Start running, America. Now.

Very fast.

Okay, I thought 'Merry Go Round' was just a rip off pastiche of Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen I tossed off one night, but everyone's favourite bassist bhata knows better and pointed out last night that it is obviously all about London and recent events here, thus...
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