Late in 2007, I used to listen to a radio show, The Morning X, in Atlanta before work each morning. One of the show's regular features was a bit called "Leslie's Shit Pile" (with enough bleeped out to get on the air). Leslie was the female morning DJ, and she also served as the station's program director. As program director, she was flooded with musical submissions from local bands seeking attention and airplay. Some of the music was good, but most of it was bad. And sometimes "bad" is bad. The "Shit Pile" became a place to play the really bad songs and make fun of them.
 Eyeball Skeleton, the Image |
One day, they played a song submitted by a listener called Eyeball Skeleton (click here to listen) by a group from Baltimore also called Eyeball Skeleton. The catch was that the song was written and performed by a couple of young boys (ages 8 and 10 at the time, if I recall) with some help from their father. The kids draw pictures, then the three of them use the images to inspire song lyrics. With an introduction like that, I wasn't expecting much, but I found the song to be catchy, and I found it running through my head later that day. It was a crude home recording with a cheesy drum machine, but it radiated real charm.
The next time the "Shit Pile" bit came on, listeners began calling in to request Eyeball Skeleton, either saying they wanted someone else to hear it, or they just wanted to hear it again. The same thing happened each time the bit was done until the song became the quasi-theme for the segment. One morning, one of the DJs said, "It's too bad the song is so crudely recorded. It's popular enough we could almost put it on the regular playlist." Another DJ replied, "Maybe one of our listeners will re-record the song for us." Needless to say, a light bulb went off in my head that instant. Perhaps I could get on the radio....
That evening, it didn't take long to find a copy of Eyeball Skeleton on the group's Facebook page. It also didn't take long to figure out the kids' rudimentary chord changes. I tried to keep my parts simple to mimic their approach, but I took the liberty to add a few touches like simplistic piano and tambourine parts. I let a few friends listen to it, and the feedback was enthusiastic.
I e-mailed a copy of the song to the radio station, sat back and waited. Nothing. I couldn't believe they wouldn't play it! The only thing I could figure was perhaps the song didn't make it to them. I e-mailed it again and received a quick "thank you" response from one of the DJs. The next "Shit Pile" came up, and, sure enough, they played the song! My first solo song to hit the radio! Most of the morning DJs seemed to like it, but unfortunately, Fred Toucher, the head of the show, had been getting burned out on the tune, and he wasn't so easily impressed. This resulted in the song being ended a bit prematurely over the objections of another DJ. Everyone's a critic. But I was elated at the ease with which I'd gotten air time.
Although not specifically recorded to fit this album's theme of travel, I couldn't leave the song off, as it was the catchiest thing I'd done lately. I rationalized it as representing the journey from childhood to adulthood (childhood simplicity mixed with surrealist imagery an adult could appreciate). Besides, "He said goodbye!" Doesn't that about sum it up?
I was in a hurry to get the song on the radio before the fad passed, so it was recorded and mixed quickly in one day. For the album, I replaced the tambourine part, which I was never totally satisfied with, spiced up the drum machine with a few cymbal accents, and more carefully remixed the song.