Parador

01. This Is Everything
02. Too Quick To Love
03. Stayin’ Home Again
04. Erase Me
05. Altitudes
06. Joke
07. Through Any Window
08. Drink Up
09. Let Me Run Wild
10. Who Blew Out The Sun?
11. Parador
12. Freestyle (Bonus Track)
“Parador” by Wisely
Ella/Not Lame Recordings NL-120 | released 2006 | CD/mp3

“With sharp words and sweet hooks PARADOR straddles the divide between classic songcraft and idiosyncratic visions… chiming guitars are skewered with troubled electronics, ballads are raw as they are tender, and every irrepressible chorus reveals a keen, dark heart.” –Joan Anderman, BOSTON GLOBE

   CD | PayPal | $10
   downloads | iTunes
   downloads | direct from artist via bandcamp (mp3/AAC/FLAC…)
                  | t-shirts


False Starts & A New Vision

Photo: Dean Groover, 2005

Photo: Dean Groover, 2005

The sessions for PARADOR started out with producer Linus of Hollywood and I cutting in a 9′ by 9′ closet, at a recording facility in Hollywood. The room was so small that it was more comfortable for me to sit in a chair out in the hallway than to cram behind him at the console. Neither was the room air-conditioned. So we quickly frustrated of it. All that remains from that chapter is a chill, almost funky version of “Through Any Window,” the song that we’d later cut as a solo acoustic track with a popular video starring actress Jenna Fischer. Someday I’ll throw the chill version out there as a bonus track.

A second attempt at Parador, 2003

A second attempt at Parador, (back l-r)) Jimmy Coup, Mike Ruekberg, Linus of Hollywood, John Fields, Dorian Crozier, Bruce Witkin, 2003

So our “plan b”, was to bring in the principle musicians from my 1996 and 1997 albums to see if we couldn’t record that band live. Amazing players all: Dorian Crozier on drums, Mike Ruekberg on acoustic guitar and producer John Fields on bass. Unfortunately, the sessions wound up being a jumble of odd energy. For one, my old friends didn’t seem interested in my new music. Which I accept. But there were also logistical problems. I desired to record the band live, but that wasn’t really possible because the studio didn’t have enough isolation rooms. A rare moment of hilarity came when we set up Mike with his acoustic guitar in a little ‘fort’ we made out of acoustic foam. Ostensibly, this would prevent the drums from bleeding into the acoustic guitar microphone––wishful thinking. Mike’s head was sticking out the top, like one of those 1950’s styled weight-loss sweatboxes. He couldn’t see the guitar or his hands or the microphone. Nor could he move without having the thing topple all around him. But seriously, our biggest problem was the presence of five guys, all producers in their own right, and not one of them feeling permitted to take control––most regrettably me.

Five songs were completely abandoned from those sessions. Emotionally, that set me back a chunk, without a firm vision. So, Linus and I took our time before plotting “plan c”––regrouping only many months later at Asylum Studios with a different cast of characters––not without a little doubt as too whether we’d ever get this project off the ground.

Eventually, sessions with drummer Rob Kurzwreiter would coalesce into the final album. Turns out it was easier for me to work with new collaborators for PARADOR. Not that I don’t dream of making another record with my Minneapolitan droogs. I do. But, it was clear that I needed the freedom that new relationships afford. Plus, after not having had an album release of new material since 1997, I was desperate to show a new vision. So facing backwards wasn’t a choice. Meanwhile the clock kept ticking as Linus and I toiled on, as six, seven and ultimately eight years would pass between Wisely albums.

Co-writers include: Andy Dick, Andras Jones, Tracy McMillan, Rebecca Lord, Linus of Hollywood and Benno Nelson.

Photo credit: Dean Groover, Orrin Anderson


Album Credits | Lyrics

Produced by: Linus of Hollywood & Willie Wisely
except 05 by Petur Smith & Wisely and 10 by Wisely
Mixed by Chuck Zwicky
Engineers: Linus of Hollywood, Bruce Witkin, Gabriel Mann
Recorded at: Asylum Studios (Culver City), Studio 9 (Hollywood), Franklin Castle (Hollywood), French Hill (West Hollywood), Bruce’s Place (West Hollywood), Weepah Way (Laurel Canyon), Digital Jungle (Hollywood)
Additional recording by James S. Levine, Peter Anderson & Dorian Crozier
Mastered by: Dave Collins (Los Angeles)
String Arrangements: Linus of Hollywood & Willie Wisely
Watercolors: Susan Freedman
Photography: Shari Simonsen (interior), Dean Groover
Design: Pete Rosenzweig for worknonwork

Endless love to my wife Kay. Dedicated to our daughter Ella B. Gilbert Wisely born July 16th 2005.

Additional thanks to everyone who, in ways more sublime than obvious, helped shape this project and bring it to light:

Mark Bacino, Joe Berardi, James Buckley, Kate Clarke, Ryan Daple-Perez, Paul Davis, Andy Dick, Heather Dotson, John Fields, Leslie Frank, Steven Greenberg, Linda Good, James Gunn, Christian Gustafson, Collin, Sarah Hersack, Steve Hurley, Marc Joseph, Jasyon Larson, Magnets For Bad Energy, Dave Maricich, Christopher McGuire, Jimmy “Coup” Mecherle, Robert Pavlicsek, Emily Polsby, Joe Poindexter, Braxton Pope, Quruli & all at Noise McCartney Records, Ed Raeker, Robbie Rist, Brent Roske, Galit Rueben, Nao Sekine, Amanda Stark, Brian Tighe, Patrick Whalen, Jake & Shannon Kim Wisely

All songs by William J Wisely Jr (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP) except add cowriters: Tracy McMillan (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP/Super Joe Music ASCAP)1, Rebecca Elizabeth Lord (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP/Becky Buckskin ASCAP)2,11, James Benno Nelson (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP/National Dynamite Music ASCAP)3, Andras Jones (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP/Previous Music ASCAP)6,8, Linus of Hollywood (©2005.Wisely Publishers ASCAP/ I Can’t Believe It’s Not Music / Figs. D Music, Inc. BMI c/o The Bicycle Music Company)9

Drums:
Rob Kurzreiter 1,6,8,9,11
Adam Marcello 3,4
Peter Anderson 2,8
Petur Smith 5

Guitar:
Wisely 1,2,3,4,5,6,8,9,10,11
Paul Gilbert 1,6,9
Linus of Hollywood 2,3,6,11
Petur Smith 5
Ben Eshbach 7

Bass:
Linus of Hollywood 1,3,9
Bruce Witkin 2,4,6,11
Petur Smith 5
Wisely 8

Keyboards:
Linus of Hollywood 1,3,4,6,11
Wisely 2,5,7,11
Dorian Crozier 3
Petur Smith 5
Brian Kehew 5
Peter Adams 8
James S. Levine 11

Percussion:
Linus of Hollywood 1,2,3,4,6,8,9,11
Wisely 1,6,9,11
Adam Marcello 1
Petur Smith 5

Backing Vocal:
Mike Ruekberg 1
Wisely 5,8
Jimmy Swan 6
Anna Waronker 6
Heather Reid 6
Rebecca Lord 11

Cello:
Peggy Baldwin 2,3,4,9

Violin:
Amir Yaghmai 3,4,9

French Horn:
Probyn Gregory 4,11


Lyrics

This Is Everything

Waiting for my entrance
Blowing past the street signs
Missing every other turn
Still getting there on time

Staring into loop holes
Faking every short cut
Knowing that my very best
Is on the other line

This is everything
Everyone you ever knew
Everywhere you ever went
Looking back at you

Tripped up on a green light
Waiting there for nobody
The future that I left behind
Standing in the way

What about the third time
Hanging in a long line
For a shimmer on a shoulder blade
Won’t you give me a sign

This is everything
Everyone you ever knew
Everywhere you ever went
Lookin back at you
This is everything
Everyone you ever knew
Everywhere you ever went
Looking back at you…
Staring back at you


Too Quick To Love

That dirty old t-shirt never looked better
Than hung on the frame of my beautiful Heather
She’s young, and I’m stung

Through all of the pain and all my denial
The arguments lasted for miles and miles
We went deep, deep into love

It’s so wrong. Maybe Heather
We weren’t made to fly
We got lost
We were too quick to love

The bedroom was burning, sweat on your face
From the golden retrievers that slept ‘cross our legs
I insisted, you resisted

It’s so wrong. Maybe Heather
We weren’t made to fly
We got lost
We were too quick to love

So don’t try and make things better
Though you’re sweet to try
We got lost
We were too quick to love…

If I’m in the kitchen, don’t call down the hall
Stay in the bedroom cause the back doors ajar
I’ll be missing. I need distance

It’s so wrong. Maybe Heather
We weren’t made to fly
We got lost
We were too quick to love

So don’t try and make things better
Though you’re sweet to try
We got lost
We were too quick to love…

If you were the steam train I was the brakes
If you were Manhattan I’m a cabin up state
Long distance
Long distance
Directory assistance


Stayin Home Again

I fought for signs of life behind the crowds
Where flowers die beneath man-made clouds
I swore another year would not go by

And I feel like staying home again
You are just the right medicine
Like long nights staring into white moon
I’ll stay long as you want me to

The whole town sings a song that understands
While freeways cut to ribbons all my plans
I’ve broken down but now I think I’ll stay

Are you for real, let’s get real?

And I feel like staying home again
You are just the right medicine
Like long nights staring into white moon
I’ll stay long as you want me to
And nowhere’s a town I’m getting used to…

Are you for real, let’s get real?

And I feel like staying home again
You are just the right medicine
Like long nights staring into white moon
I’ll stay long as you want me to…
And nowhere’s a town I’m getting used to


Erase Me

Don’t drop by. I’ll be wasted
And I’ll get mean. You don’t want to see that again
You carved a number in the arm of my imagination

So I was too quick to rip out a page of history
But it’s a little sick, the way you tore me to confetti
There’s nothing I can do now, going to burn all we created

But you, you can’t erase me
Songs of love fall on deaf ears wasted
You might think you found my replacement
But you, you can’t erase me

These four thin walls keep me deep in isolation
They watch me bleed, while you’re out walking some new best friend
I’ll go begging in the hall outside his coronation

But you, you can’t erase me
Songs of love fall on deaf ears wasted
You might think you found my replacement
But you, you can’t erase me…


Altitudes

Some call her quiet, others call her just plain weird
We hooked up in England days before she disappeared
Love has a way of crushing those I’ve known
I thought I was strong, wanted you to take control

In my altitudes

These stones can’t wake me, hear them tick my window pane
Her lights burn bright, can’t she recognize my name
You’re not the first to show me your scars of war
Go ahead shatter the glass, imagine what I’ll use it for

In my altitudes
Miles beyond you
Altitudes

I visit her father silent in his wheel chair
Told him I knew what he’d done to her sophomore year
“Someday sir, the dreamers will cage the ghost”
Pressing my face into the hollow of her throat
Everybody knows by now
You’re never going to pin her down

In my altitudes
Miles beyond you
Never amount to
Altitudes
Miles beyond you
My circles confound you know
Altitudes
Altitudes
I’m in my altitudes


Joke

How can you stand there after all we’ve been through
And act as if good fortune’s nothing new?
You had me half believing that if your dream came true
I’d be receiving something too
But that’s a joke
And I was laughing too
But if it’s a joke
I’m a fool

The rat race ran your circles and I had to grab the wheel
The doctor said your ulcer would never heal
That’s a joke
You trying play cool
If it’s a joke
I’m a fool

So now we speak of money which we held in such disdain
How once the world was ours, shit would change
That’s a joke
Guess I’m laughing proof
But if it’s a joke
What’s it to me
What’s that make me
Why am I asking you?

Was that a joke
Cause if it’s a joke
I know what that means
I see what I’ve been
I’ve been fooled


Through Any Window

Early in the morning when the sun comes through any window
Break the promise that each day is a new early morning, through any window

Blue is the memory of her bedroom eyes
Green as the envy I can’t hide
Red is the color she lays so bare
In early morning, through any window

Sunlight kiss me on my head of gloom in early morning
Glide across the bed then fade at noon through any window, in early morning

Blue is the memory of her bedroom eyes
Green as the envy I can’t hide
Red is the color she lays so bare
In early morning, through any window

School bus take them far from home
Take the children far from home
Take the children far from home
Soon to see how sad their lives become, through any window

Blue is the memory of her bedroom eyes
Green as the envy I can’t hide
Red is the color that she lays so bare
In early morning, through any window
In early morning, through any window


Drink Up

These are the days
These are the good ones
After this it’s all down hill
I got a raise
But something smells rotten
All good
Till you can’t pay the bill
Ah
Don’t know what this has to do with drinking
Hooking up, that’s all I want to do
But that old song’s got me thinking
Drink up ah-ah, all your sorrow
Drink up ah-ah, it’s almost tomorrow
Drink up ah-ah, time is borrowed
Drink up tomorrow we’re through

I’ve heard it said
Seen it written
You can’t stand still on a moving train
The seats are soft
Cabin’s air conditioned
You can’t feel
The wind or the rain
Ah
You ride along laughing and drinking
Hooking up with whoever you do
But the train you’re on is a ship that’s sinking
Drink up ah-ah, all your sorrow
Drink up ah-ah, it’s almost tomorrow
Drink up ah-ah, time is borrowed
Drink up tomorrow we’re through

These are the days
Of ones and zeros
After this there’s nothing new
Of all the ways
We could’ve been heroes
Tonight’s the best we’ll do
Ah
I’ll figure out what this has to do with drinking
And hooking up when those days are through
As the harsh truth starts to sink in
Drink up ah-ah, all your sorrow
Drink up ah-ah, it’s almost tomorrow
Drink up ah-ah, time is borrowed
Drink up tomorrow we’re through

Drink up, all your sorrow
Drink up, it’s almost tomorrow
Drink up, time is borrowed
Drink up tomorrow we’re through


Let Me Run Wild

I feel like ripping every vein out of my arm
‘Cause if I do I might feel better
I know you mean it when you say you’re “fucking through”
But give me time yeah, give me time

And let me run wild
Let me run wild
Not trying to mess with you
Something I got to do
Let me run wild
Then like the child I’ll come home
To you

Turn off the TV, look me in the mirror
Watching the weather of my madness
Calling me coward, you know I won’t get near
The suicide yeah, give me time yeah

And let me run wild
Let me run wild
Not trying to mess with you
Something I got to do
Let me run wild
Then like the child I’ll come home
To you…

When I find the child I’ll come home
To you


Who Blew Out The Sun?

Who blew out the sun
Shinned up a ladder and snuffed out the life giving one
Can’t you comprehend the magnitude
When you blew out the sun

Who pulls down the clouds
Drags them down hissing and kicking to die on the ground
Why oh why do I confide in you
When you blew out the sun

How am I so blind as to abide you
Beauty belies you hide every wound
Towards the night we glide me tied behind you
Drawn towards the light of lost afternoons

Who punched out the moon
Picked up a stone and plucked the old bird in the eye
How will I survive your vicissitudes
When you blew out the sun…


Parador

I’m your puddle of water, you jump over me
Your rusty old screen door, come and go as you please
Everything comes to you so easily
There’s so much more to you than me

Oh-no
So I look up find you flying over Parador
Wishing I had wings to fly too, wishing I was self-absorbed
Got to find another hobby, keep me busy and take up time
I’ll forget that you don’t call me and slip inside this dream of mine
Over Parador

Pulling down my scratchy records, collect some extra time
Drop the needle on another reason, to keep your heart from reaching mine
I’m your Mario Lanza’s “Last Concert In Spain”
MCMLXV I got played and played
Feels so lazy, come on and play me

Oh-no
So I look up find you flying over Parador
Wishing I had wings to fly too, wishing I was self -absorbed
Got to find another hobby, keep me busy and take up time
I’ll forget that you don’t call me and slip inside this dream of mine
Over Parador…

Oh-no