Jetta
This is a song that's pure Americana. It's about a boy, the girl he loves, and the German car he loves almost as much as her. During Crankdaddy's reign of Sloppy Poppy Punk Rock n Roll supremacy, this song was the closest thing we had to a hit. People would actually sing along to it during our shows, which -- I must admit -- was pretty darn cool.
"Jetta" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
There's something in the stars, the shining of the moon
the wind blowin' through your hair, so nice and fair, lips thick maroon
I could look for years, and I'd never find
Another girl like you, so cute, with habits I don't really mind
So in my Jetta, I'm gonna tell ya the feeling that I feel is bliss
In my VW, I said I'd love you, and it starts with a night like this
a night like this
Is it the way you smell? Is it the way you are?
Is it the way you close your eyes and sing along to AC/DC in my car?
In the dashboard light, you kinda look like Cher
And I'm kinda like Sonny only taller, only cooler and we're still a pair
And in my Jetta, I feel betta, I'm gonna get a kiss
In my VW, I'm gonna love you and it starts with a night like this
a night like this
My Jetta's my baby and she really makes me drool
But that's nothin' compared to the way I feel about you
together we'll go places the three of us have never been
Life's betta in my Jetta let's take her for a little spin...here we go!
The world is flying by, no idea of time
You and me belong together forever and ever like Coronas and lime
So let's never stop, let's never slow
Let's stock up on Cokes and Skittles and kisses -- off we go
Cause in my Jetta, it's like I said-a, moment I don't wanna miss
In my VW, I'm gonna love you and it starts with a night like this
a night like this
Still in Love, Not in Like
Ever had a girl you were crazy about go, well, crazy on you? Like totally-change-her-personality-and-start-dating-a-guy-who-worked-on-the-cruise-ship-she-vacationed-on-crazy? And then blame it eight months later on a "chemical imbalance?"
Neither have I. But if you did, I imagine you'd end up writing a song like this.
"Still in Love, Not in Like" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
Lying on my back, staring at the ceiling
I can’t quite describe what I’m feeling
I’m thinking ‘bout you…and what you put me through
You promise me this, promise me that
I never quite understand where I’m at
I feel confused…used and abused
One day, everything sorta changed
Once sweet, now you’re more like deranged
Call me wrong, but this ain’t right
Cause I’m still in love, but I’m not in like
I send you flowers, fresh from my yard
Why am I the only one trying so hard
I wanna make it work…but you call me a jerk
I’ve given my heart, I’ve given my head
I get nothing back, might as well be dead
Am I so worth hatin’? Or are you just Satan?
One day, everything sorta changed
Once sweet, now you’re more like deranged
Call me wrong, but this ain’t right
Cause I’m still in love, but I’m not in like
People say I’m crazy, people say I’m dumb
But with the proper medication, baby, you’re the one
Vandura
Just to prove I could write something different from my usual poppy love songs, I wrote this chugging rocker about a creepy dude and his 70's GMC van.
No, this is not my van. And no, the song is not autobiographical.
"Vandura" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
She’s a full blown Jimmy with a big V8
ridin on big fat chrome
Bed in the back for hittin’ sack
more comfy than the one at home
Little steering wheel made outta chain
Got a skylight in the roof
You’re ridin’ pure in crushed velour
gas pedal looks like a foot
Vandura! She’ll lure ya! Vandura!
Got carpet on the ceiling, carpet on the floor,
carpet everywhere you please
And if she does her job like she always does
there’ll be carpet burns on your knees
Don’t mind that little window there
that’s with this curtain’s for
Hop on in, put an 8 track in,
Don’t forget to lock the doors
Vandura! She’ll lure ya! Vandura!
If this rig’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’
If this van is buckin’ – keep on truckin’!
See that mural runnin’ down the side
it ain’t some random scene
the girl on the rock in the bikini’s you
and the wolf there, that’d be me
So if we play our parts in this airbrushed art
everything’ll be alright
The wolfman’s real behind the wheel
and he’s on the hunt tonight
Vandura! Sex pure-a! Vandura!
Slime City
Massa-cree
I've been friends with horror writer and filmmaker Gregory Lamberson ever since we were studio partners at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. In 1986, the year I graduated from SVA, he made a low, low, REALLY low-budget horror film called "Slime City." I played the role of Jerry, The Doofus Roommate Who Gets His Head Split Open Like a Melon. The film had a very brief run in Manhattan, then was relegated to the world of VHS.
Fast forward 20-something years and guess what: "Slime City" is a bona-fide cult classic, revered by afficionados of 80s-era grindhouse films. So Gregory does what any self-respecting filmmaker would do. He reunites the cast and makes a sequel called "Slime City Massacre." This time, since I can't reprise the role of a dead guy, I played The Badass Mercenary Who Gets Eaten By Cannibalistic Mole People.
Anyway, when Gregory offered me the role, I made him a counter offer: Only if I could write a song for the closing credits. He bit, and now, you can enjoy "Slime City Massa-Cree" at the end of movie as well as over the menu of the DVD. I urge you to order your copy today. (Oh, and check out Gregory Lamberson's books, too. Good stuff.)
"Slime City Massa-Creee" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
Calling all Basket Cases…
With your Street Trash condishes…
Toxie can’t help you now--
You’re in Slime City, bitches!
Oh my god, don’t look now
But your beautiful face is just a pile of goo
But I so want you
Come on baby gimme what you got
Let’s pour ourselves a little shot
Shot of elixir, flesh starts to run
It’s getting hot in here
Slime flies when you’re having fun
Can’t you see, we’re down with Zachary
Surrender your flesh to me
It’s a Slime City Massacre
I ain’t playin’, my yogurt’s Himalayan
30-40-50-60 years past the sell-by date
So it fuels my hate
A lovin’ spoonful gets me goin’
See how green my blood is glowin’
You see me comin’, you turn to jelly
Don’t get to close, to my girl’s belly
On the floor, your brains are splattered
What can I say? I’m a crazy bastard!
Your orgasm, my ectoplasm
It’s an ooey-gooey chewy match made in hell
Ruby taught me well
My work here is never done
Cut off my head, my brain will run
Just My Type
I'm a pretty sensitive guy for an old-skool punk. Songwriting-wise, I tend to lean more towards love songs than angry ones. "Just My Type" is a prime example. It's nerdy, wildly optimistic, and tells a great story about finding true love.
I think this song could easily be converted to a more "country" version for that crowd -- just change out some band references, swap "combat boots" for "cowboy boots," and voila: Instant CMT hit.
"Just My Type" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
Dark hair upon her head
Hates TV likes to rock instead
She’s the first to throw her devil horns in the air
Knows her Kiss her Descendents too
All her Cheap Trick lyrics through and through
Keeps dancin’ even when they stop and stare
She’s just my type
She’s all that’s on my list
Just my type
And I’ll prove it when we kiss
I won’t waste my time
Lookin’ round no more
Cause she’s meant for me, I’m meant for her
For sure…she’s just my type
Mention Star Wars and she doesn’t laugh
Buys a Kit Kat gives me half
Likes tequila but she really loves her gin
Looks good in heels or combat boots
Laughs at guys in three piece suits
Doesn’t brag about everywhere she’s been
I looked around this great big world for years
And what I found just confirmed my fears
There’s a lot of “close” and “almost theres”
But keep looking cause your special girl’s somewhere – she’s just your type
Not square, but not quite hip
Little beauty mark above her lip
There’s a wiggle in her walk that drives me wild
Tattoo in the perfect spot
Every time I see it, it makes me hot
Even smelling her’s enough to make me smile
Dark Side
Like many of my generation, "Star Wars" changed my life. It's a huge part of who I am, and always will be. So I put together this little tune about Luke getting recruited. I personally think Darth would've had a little more luck if he had used the "Chicks dig the Dark Side" argument, but hindsight's always 20-20, right?
"Dark Side" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
Growing up on Tattooine
Lamest planet you’ve ever seen, by far (it’s freaking dead)
Met a dude who’s pitch black through and through
Starts buggin’ me to join his crew (and he said)
Join me on the Dark Side, it’s gonna be a wild ride
Join me on the Dark Side, take your place right next to me
On The Dark Side
He and his peeps made it look good
Livin’ larger than a body should in space (the perks are nice)
Said I didn’t think this farm boy was his man
Next thing I know he’s cuttin’ off my hand (with this advice)
Join me on the Dark Side, it’s gonna be a wild ride
Join me on the Dark Side, take your place right next to me
We can use the Dark Side, tan some rebel scum hide
Chicks they did the Dark Side, have your way with two or three
On the Dark Side
I don’t care if you are my Dad, I don’t need the job that bad
I’ll never do the things you do – and that’s Mister Rebel Scum to you
It’s not the suit that scares me most
It’s turning my little friends to toast (they’d be pissed)
Working for the man, you’re never free
There’s evil in the words he spoke to me (they go like this)
Join me on the Dark Side, it’s gonna be a wild ride
Join me on the Dark Side, take your place right next to me
We can use the Dark Side, tan some rebel scum hide
Chicks they did the Dark Side, have your way with two or three
On the Dark Side
Ninja Boy
Sometimes, an idea for a song pops into your head that is so silly, so stupid, and so potentially annoying to the listener you think, "There's no way I should write this song."
But since there's such a fine line between "so potentially annoying" and "so f***ing catchy," you do the only logical thing: You write it.
Here's a recording of Crankdaddy performing this song live at the Dublin Underground in Albany, New York. The mix is horrific, but it's probably the best indication of what this song was about. Pay special attention to the background vocals from Andres -- his pipes were particularly golden on this night.
"Ninja Boy" (music and lyrics by Tom Merrick)
You can’t see me, I’m the night
On the ceiling ready to strike
Wave goodbye to your sorry life
I’m a Ninja Boy…Ninja Boy!
Hunt you down, near and far
Doesn’t really matter who you are
Take you out with my throwing star
I’m a Ninja Boy…Ninja Boy!
Ninja Boy, Ninja Boy,
On your ass like a hemorrhoid
I’m a Ninja Boy…Ninja Boy!
Got silent slippers in my size
Show you your heart before you die
Funner at parties than a samurai
I’m a Ninja Boy…Ninja Boy!
In my hand a blade it whirls
King Badass of the shadow world
Havin’ my way with the geisha girls
I’m a Ninja Boy…Ninja Boy!
Ninjutsu! All over you!
Assassinatin’! Who I’m hatin’!
Sayonara! To your drama!
Makin’ sushi! Outta you-shi!