This song, HOWARD AVENUE, though dedicated to Peter Barrett and Francesca Reitano, brings back intense memories of Henry Major, Gus Dudley, Sam Dudley (not my nephew, but the inspiration for ‘Little Sam’), Rene Ricard, Ed Askew, Tim Barrett and too many other to count. You see, where we lived, on Howard Avenue in New Haven during my return after Yale and partly during my time at the drama school, was a thriving wasp nest of odd artists and musicians all of whom benefited from hanging out with each other, dealing with our weird lives, loves and art. Three stories it was. I began on the first floor, and wound up under an indoor tent on the third with Franny and Gus. Peter and Hank took all of the second floor, and Kenny and Terry plus this crazy clarinet player who was, is this true?, known to eat Christmas Tree balls while playing his horn and watching the news. I think to some extent we were all looking over each other’s shoulders to check out Fanny’s songs, Peter’s writing, Hank’s latest seamstress creations, and whatever was happening culturally in the town. We collected food thrown out of super markets and got a free piano from a church. I stuck tacks in the hammers and began, for real, inspired by Franny and Ed, to write my first songs. No ambition. Just for the fun of it and to share back n forth with those other phenomenal song writers. Drugs abounded, but not overly. A lotta ‘encounters’ from the city streets, and New Haven always seemed an honest hood as it had no axe to grind with NYC or Boston as it lay inconspicuously midway between the two. It was the first constellation of artists living together that I got to know, and it steered me in directions I would have never expected, awakening me to parts of myself long buried or dismissed. I had forgotten to think about the place until a fertile email correspondence with Franny opened up that Pandora recall. This is one short paragraph about the place which, predictably, has been torn down and replaced with condos. I could, I should, write a lot more, but too much for here, and for this song.
lyrics
ON HOWARD AVENUE
ain’t there always a place
where it all began
like a rock in a pond
that’ll sink to the sand
a flame that drew
all the moths we were
n we loved that fire
it was all a blur
on howard avenue
where the freaks got high
n the paint don’t dry
n the music don’t stop
all the acid that we dropped
n the rent was just a joke
n most of us were broke
on all kinds o’ dope
on howard avenue
there wr 2 super dudes
on the 2nd floor
n one was black
n the other knew the score
when the cast of hair
spent the whole damn night
n my friends they told me
keep yr bullshit outa sight
on howard avenue
where the freaks got high
n the paint don’t dry
n the music don’t stop
all the acid that we dropped
n the rent was just a joke
n most of us were broke
on all kinds o’ dope
on howard avenue
those 2 gay dudes
weren’t afraid o nuthin’
n they loved each other
n they taught me somthin’
brought it out of me
that i was just like them
i was gay as a goose
w a art screw loose
on howard avenue
where the freaks got high
n the paint don’t dry
n the music don’t stop
all the acid that we dropped
n the rent was just a joke
n most of us were broke
on all kinds o’ dope
on howard avenue
i checked the other day
on a google map
n r house was gone
n the plot was flat
like the wind that leaves
a sail in a huff
n nutnin’ was left
it was all a bust
on howard avenue
credits
from DEMOS,
released November 18, 2012
GBand selfie w typical Berlin changes that seemed to suit the idea.
Rick Berlin (now playing w/ THE NICKEL & DIME BAND)Jamaica Plain
A giant on the Boston music scene. His colorful songwriting + strong stage presence have influenced countless other artists
since the early 1970s. He continues to make music w/ intelligence + integrity, building an international reputation around his knotty, singular piano playing, straight-from-the-heart singing and a style of character-based songwriting that's drawn comparisons to Waits + Cohen...more
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