Morph The Cat


 

All songs ©2006 Freejunket Music ASCAP

Produced by Donald Fagen
Recorded at Avatar Studios, NYC
Clinton Recording Studios, NYC
Sear Sound, NYC
Sugar Sound, Kauai
Tracking Engineer: Elliott Scheiner
gap.gif (834 bytes)at Clinton Recording Studios
Overdub/ProTools Engineers:
gap.gif (834 bytes)Avatar, NYC: Brian Montgomery
gap.gif (834 bytes)Sear, NYC and Sugar Sound, Kauai:
gap.gif (834 bytes)gap.gif (834 bytes)gap.gif (834 bytes)T.J. Doherty
Mix Engineer: Elliot Scheiner
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Second Mix Engineer: Brian Montgomery
Assistant Engineers: Eddie Jackson,
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gap.gif (834 bytes)Steve Mazur, Brian Montgomery,
gap.gif (834 bytes)Matt Scheiner, Bryan Smith
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Piano from Steinway, NYC
Piano Technicians: Sam Berd,
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Drum/Guitar Tech: Artie Smith
Music Copyist: Gary Blu

Mastered at Sony Mastering
Mastering Engineer: Darcy Proper
Additional Mastering: Joe Palmaccio
Mastering Assistant: Maria Triana

Management: Front Line Management
gap.gif (834 bytes)-Irving Azoff

Production Coordinators: Jill Dell'Abate
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Production Assistant (Hawaii):
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Art Direction: Jeri Heiden
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Design: Ryan Corey
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Photography: Danny Clinch

Thanks to all the musicians, technicians
and crew listed above whose sparkle
made this gig so reet.
More thanks to Skip Gildersleeve,
Michael Leonhart, Peter Meyer
and Tommy Morrongiello

Mahalo to Neil and Melissa Norman;
Benjy and Terry Garfinkel;
Amber, Chloe, Koa and all the Kauai kids;
Jim and Dorrie Winkler;
Richard Fernandez; Terry Sullivan;
Al Santos; Tris Imboden;
and Allan (A.T.) Thomas

Special thanks to Susan, Emily,
Michael and Jerry; Amy and Ezra;
and Irving Azoff.
In Memory of Elinor Fagen aka Ellen Ross
Dedicated to my wife, Libby Titus Fagen

 

©2006 Reprise Records.



Tracks:

Morph the Cat
H Gang
What I Do
Brite Nitegown

The Great Pagoda of Funn
Security Joan
The Night Belongs to Mona
Mary Shuts the Garden Door
Morp the Cat (Reprise)

Rhymes (Bonus Track)

 



Promo and Digital downlaod

H Gang (Single)
PRO-CDR-101704

H Gang (Radio Version) 3:59
H Gang (Album Version) 5:15

 

 

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Morph the Cat

A vast, ghostly cat-thing descends on New York City, bestowing on its citizens a kind of rapture.

High above Manhattan town
What floats and has a shape like that
Fans like us who watch the skies
We know its Morph the Cat

Gliding like a big blue cloud
From Tomkins Square to Upper Broadway
Beyond the park to Sugar Hill
Stops a minute for a latte’

He oozes down the heating duct
Swims like seaweed down the hall
He briefly digs your wiggy pad
And seeps out through the wall

Its kind of like an arctic mindbath
Cool and sweet and slightly rough
Liquid light on New York City
Like Christmas without the chintzy stuff

What exactly does he want
This Rabelaisian puff of smoke
To make you feel all warm and cozy
Like you heard a good joke

Like you heard an Arlen tune
Or bought yourself a crazy hat
Like you had a Mango Cooler
Ooh - Morph the Cat

He’s all the talk in shops and schoolyards
Sutton Place - the automat
Players playin’ in da Bronx
Respect to Morph the Cat

Its kind of like an arctic mindbath
Cool and sweet and slightly rough
Liquid light on New York City
Like Christmas without the chintzy stuff

So rich is his charisma
You can almost hear it sing
He skims the roofs
And bells begin to ring

Chinese cashiers can feel it now
Grand old gals at evening mass
Young racketeers
And teenage models
Laughing on the grass

Blessed Yankees have an ally
When this feline comes to bat
Bringing joy to old Manhattan
All watch the skies for Morph the Cat

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar (solo): Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Guitar: Hugh McCracken
Guitar: Frank Vignola
Fender Piano: Donald Fagen
Vibes/Marimba: Phonus Quaver

Backup Vocals: Jerry Barnes,
Michael Harvey,
Donald Fagen
Trumpet: Marvin Stamm
Tenor Sax (solo): Walt Weiskopf


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H Gang

The birth, life and death of a band in a nutshell.
Let's hope the H Gang waxed some worthy sides as their story is ultimately mangled in one the most hilariously bad films of all time.

I hear Denise is back on the outside
That she’s got a wicked plan
She’s callin’ in the Gong Sisters again
To form the ultimate five-chord band
For eight months now in that freaking cell
She’s been knockin’ ideas around
Now she’s good and ready to make a big noise
Right here in her own hometown

Here comes the H Gang
Slammin’ out of Hinktown
Better get off the stage boys
They’ll be lookin’ for a showdown

On a moonless night they started off
On a bus called Happy Day
To bring their vision to cities and towns
Across the USA
And in every club and hall they played
The crowd knew every word
And even today folks are talking about
The incredible sounds they heard

Here comes the H Gang
Somebody turn on the floodlights
Better get off the stage son
Unless you’re ready for a kickfight

Whatever happened to the H Gang
Some say they were the best
I heard they broke up - that Denise got hitched
And she’s living in the midwest
But there’s a film that’s in production
The working title’s “Song of Desire”
About an orphan girl with this crazy red hair
And a voice and a dream and a soul on fire

Here comes the H Gang
Slammin’ out of Hinktown
Better get off the stage boys
They’ll be lookin’ for a showdown

Here comes the H Gang
Somebody turn on the floodlights
Better get off the stage son
Unless you’re ready for a kickfight

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar (solo): Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Guitar: Hugh McCracken
Piano: Ted Baker
Fender Piano: Donald Fagen
Backup Vocals: Donald Fagen
Trumpet: Marvin Stamm
Trombone: Mark Patterson
Clarinet: Lawrence Feldman
Tenor Sax (solo): Walt Weiskopf
Baritone Sax: Roger Rosenberg
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb
 


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What I Do

A conversation between some younger version of myself and the ghost of Ray Charles.

I say Ray why do girls treat you nice that way
He said its not what I know, what I think or say
Its what I do
Its what I do
Its deep beneath the skin
Its what I major in
Its what I do

Yes I come to play and I bring big soul
Well I could rock long before they named it
Rock & roll
Its what I do - its what I do
I’m specially qualified
To keep ‘em satisfied
Its what I do

You turn the lamp down low
And make her feel secure
You’ve got to show the girl
That she’s the one you adore
If you want that sugar to pour

Well you bring some church but you leave no doubt
As to what kind of love you love to shout about
Its what I do - its what I do
If you can’t dance by now
The Raelettes will show you how
Its what I do

You turn the lamp down low
And make her feel secure
You’ve got to show the girl
That she’s the one you adore
That is if you want that sugar to pour

He says Don don’t despair - just take some time
You find your bad self - you’re gonna do just fine
Its what I do - its what I do
It’s not some game I play
It’s in my DNA
Its what I do

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar (Solo): Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Guitar: Hugh McCracken
Guitar Ken Emerson
Whirly Piano: Ted Baker
Harmonica (solo): Howard Levy
Backup Vocals: Amy Helm,
Carolyn Leonhart,
Cindy Mizelle,
Donald Fagen


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Brite Nitegown

I read in a biography of W.C Fields that the great comedian liked to refer to Death as "the fellow in the bright nightgown". Each verse is a different encounter with the Fellow.

I dreamed I had a fever
I was pushin one-oh-three
My mom’s all upset - cryin’ by my bedside
Everybody’s prayin’ for me
I hear a scratchin at the window
I somehow twist myself around
I realize I’m eyes to eyes
With the fella in the Brite Nitegown

Brite Nitegown
Brite Nitegown
You can’t fight with the fella
In the Brite Nitegown

The eagle flys on Friday
My baby wants to bash
I hit the ATM - and march down the street
With a roll of party cash
Right then a couple lit-up brothers
They gently put me on the ground
They do the steal and leave me to deal
With the fella in the Brite Nitegown

Brite Nitegown
Brite Nitegown
You can’t fight with the fella
In the Brite Nitegown

Ten milligrams of Chronax
Will whip you back through time
Past Hebrew kings - and furry things
To the birth of humankind
I shared in all of nature’s secrets
But when I finally came around
I’m sittin’ on the rug gettin’ a victory hug
From the fella in the brite Brite Nitegown


Brite Nitegown
Brite Nitegown
You can’t fight with the fella
In the Brite Nitegown

Guitar: Jon Herrington
Guitar (solo): Wayne Krantz
Fender Piano: Donald Fagen
Marimba: Phonus Quaver

Backup Vocals: Donald Fagen
Trumpet: Marvin Stamm
Trombone: Mark Patterson
Alto Sax: Walt Weiskopf
Tenor Sax: Lawrence Feldman
Baritone Sax: Roger Rosenberg
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb,
Bashiri Johnson


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The Great Pagoda of Funn

Lovers attempt to shut out the harsh realities of life.

The stars are bright tonight
The air is sweet
Though summer’s over now
There’s a strange new music in the street
You and I
Know the world can’t be like this
Its our love that makes it shine
Girl - whatever trouble waits outside these walls
We’re safe inside this house of light
We make up our own storyline

Around the neighborhood
They stare and grin
As if they live their lives
Just to help maintain the state we’re in
But when we fight
Then those hungry wolves close in
We’re one thoughtless word away

From poison skies
And severed heads
And pain and lies
So follow me
I’ll hold you tight
And we’ll build a life together
In the Great Pagoda of Funn

This magic soon will fade
Without a doubt
We’ll have to work my love
Just to keep the flame from going out
Cause if we fail
Then these walls will fall away
And we’ll find we’re in the realm

Of psycho-moms
And dying stars
And dirty bombs
Please follow me
And hold me tight
Yes we’ll build a world together
In the Great Pagoda of Funn



Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar (solo): Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Piano: Ted Baker
Vibes: Phonus Quaver

Backup Vocals: Jerry Barnes,
Donald Fagen
Trumpet (solo): Marvin Stamm
Trombone: Mark Patterson
Alto Sax: Walt Weiskopf
Tenor Sax: Lawrence Feldman
Baritone Sax: Roger Rosenberg
Percussion: Joe Pasaro
 


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Security Joan

A sweet interlude at LaGuardia: traveling man and airport security babe "meet cute".

Well I guess I needed a miracle
If I was gonna make my flight
I had to get to Gate C13
And it was still way out of sight
But something in my carry-on bag
Ticked off the x-ray machine
Cause then an angel straight from heaven
Asked me to step behind the screen
When I felt her wand sweep over me
You know I never felt so clean

Girl you won’t find my name on your list
Honey you know I ain’t no terrorist
Confiscate my shoes - my cell phone
You know I love - love - love you
Security Joan

I hung out at the Starbuck’s
Til just around boarding time
Then I strolled on back to the checkpoint
With just one thing on my mind
She flashed that crooked smile and said
Hon, I believe you missed your flight
I said there’s been a minor change of plan
And I’ll be stayin’ for one more night
I could tell from the way she looked at me
Everything was gonna be alright

Girl you won’t find my name on your list
Honey you know I ain’t no terrorist
Confiscate my shoes - my cell phone
You know I love - love - love you
Security Joan

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar: Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Guitar (solo): Ken Wessel
Whirly Piano: Ted Baker
Piano/Organ: Donald Fagen
Backup Vocals: Michael Harvey,
Donald Fagen
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb
Clappers: Jennifer Battista,
Eddie Jackson'
Camille Meza
and Candice Predham


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The Night Belongs to Mona

Concerning some morbid business on a high floor. Perhaps our girl will find a reason to live (or an effective anti-depressant) before its too late.

Mona’s become a child of the night
When she goes out
Its only for bare necessities
She says she’s had it up to here with light
While the city sleeps
That’s when she comes alive

Yes the night belongs to Mona
When she’s dancing all alone
Forty floors above the city
CDs spinnin’
AC hummin’
Feelin’ pretty

Sometimes she’ll call at some unholy hour
She wants to talk
All of this grim and funny stuff
Then she’ll go all quiet in her Chelsea tower
And thats when we wait
To see how the story ends

Cause the night belongs to Mona
When she’s dancing all alone
Forty floors above the city
CDs spinnin’
AC hummin’
Feelin’ pretty

Was it the fire downtown
That turned her world around
Was it some guy or lots of different things
We all wonder where she’s gone
That sunny girl we used to know
Now every night we get the Mona Show

Maybe its good that she’s above it all
Things don’t seem as dark
When you’re already dressed in black
We try not to see the writing on the wall
What happens tomorrow

When the moonrays
Get so bright
When she rises
Towards the starlight
Miles above
The city’s heat
Will she fall hard
Or float softly to the street

Tonight the night belongs to Mona
When she’s dancing all alone
Forty floors above the city
CDs spinnin’
AC hummin’
Feelin’ pretty

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Acoustic Bass: Harlan Post, Jr.

Guitar: Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Fender Piano: Ted Baker
Piano: Donald Fagen
Harmonica: Howard Levy
Backup Vocals: Donald Fagen
Trumpet: Marvin Stamm
Trombone: Mark Patterson
Flute: Lawrence Feldman
Tenor Sax: Walt Weiskopf
Bass Clarinet: Roger Rosenberg
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb


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Mary Shuts the Garden Door


Paranoia blooms when a thuggish cult gains control of the government.

They came in under the radar
When our backs were turned around
In a fleet of Lincoln Town Cars
They rolled into our town
Confounded all six senses
Like an opiate in the brain
Mary shut the garden door
Looks a lot like rain

Mary shut the garden door
Mary shut the garden door

We pounded Rachel’s’ radio
For reports about the bridge
There was nothing on but static
Nothing in the fridge
We lay there listening to the wind
Whistling through the pines
When we heard the engines idling
Saw the headlights through the blinds

Mary shut the garden door
Mary shut the garden door

Rough dreams
Those voices in the kitchen
I woke up
And sensed the new condition
They won
Storms raged
Things changed
Forever

So if you ever see an automaton
In a midprice luxury car
Better roll the sidewalks up
Switch on your lucky star
Cause this zombie does impressions
But not really to amuse
This ballad is for lovers
With something left to lose

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Guitar: Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Fender Piano: Ted Baker
Vibes: Phonus Quaver

Melodica (solo): Donald Fagen
Flutes: Illinois Elohainu

Backup Vocals: Carolyn Leonhart,
Donald Fagen
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb

 


 
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Morph The Cat (Reprise)

 

Blessed Yankees have an ally
When this feline comes to bat
Bringing joy to Old Manhattan
All watch the skies for Morph the Cat

 

Drums: Keith Carlock
Bass Guitar: Freddie Washington
Remedial Bss Guitar: Brian Montgomery
Guitar (chorus solo): Jon Herrington
Guitar: Wayne Krantz
Guitar: Hugh McCracken
Guitar (tag solo): Frank Vignola
Fender Piano: Donald Fagen
Vibes/Marimba: Phonus Quaver

Backup Vocals: Jerry Barnes,
Michael Harvey,
Donald Fagen
Trumpet: Marvin Stamm
Tenor Sax: Walt Weiskopf

 


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Rhymes (Bonus)

 

Last night, the night before
25 robbers at my door
I got up and let 'em in
But I missed 'em all with a rolling pin
Took everything I own
Like a king down from his throne
I can't let it get me down
Change my smile into a frown

I can't let it get me down
Change my smile into a frown

Just all about to send it southside
Even though I know you are tired
Now it's time for love again
Pain is found and finally went
They took everything I own
Like a king without his throne
I can't let it get me down
Change my smile into a frown
 

 


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† Harlan Post Jr., Phonus Quaver and Illinois Elohainu are pseudonyms for Fagen himself when he plays an instrument sample patch on a synthesizer trying to replicate the actual instrument.


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