GABRIEL KAHANE Where are the Arms
Charming Disease
You were on the floor when I got home
Scraped you up, cleaned you off, got you out the door,
I drove you to the basement on your knees.
You were sneaking out with little lies
in the morning by the market, for a good time.
You tried to hide it by the lemon trees
I took you home and took away your keys.
What a charming
What a charming
charming little disease.
The doctor says youll make it if you try
You look up at all of us with your yellow eye
Im so sorry Im so sorry Im so sorry
What a charming
What a charming
charming little disease.
Coffee burned, the plastic chair
the shuffled feet, the shuffled stare
90 days, no guarantees
You sank into a wine dark sea
You tried so hard so hard to please
What a charming
What a charming
charming little disease.
You were on the floor when I got home
Held my breath and stepped real soft
Then I locked the door
Ill bring the bottle...
Merritt Pkwy
I was on the side of the road
shiny traffic beetling by.
She picked up a box of my clothes
offered me a wash and a ride.
We collected clovers in a park,
threaded them through our little fingers.
She pulled up her shirt and showed me the mark
where her fathers snow white knuckle lingered.
And I say now what I said then
please let me forget you
In some hot one gas station town
please let me forget you
We came up with names for our kids
though wed only met an hour before.
Names with an Eastern European fit
Frederick, Casimir, and Isidore.
At a seaside town we picked at our lunch
talking of family, the books that wed read.
Back in the car, too nervous to touch,
she emptied a bottle of water on my head.
And I say now what I said then
please let me forget you
In some hot one gas station town
please let me forget you
Parts of Speech of afternoons and afternoons
of yawning
they sit on steps against the wind and hes longing
the colors changing growing thin
in lights and lye and lost illusions and though hes certain that
watch these two discussing the shudders tied to fall
what to make of his throat is tight cant quite recall
unborn children who may take or not take if its in the books or in the wall
let us not break that scene of children standing tall
he clears his throat
their cups are cold their hands are black he clears it
they sit at angles but
distraction will not find them it will find them hes got a place in some small town
in a white room far from the garden and the gown
where its all just touching shells she wears for someone else
its touching shells while someone else
but its just nothing will hold her hand
its just nothing in some cold off-white room

he would never know but hes okay

if she had never told and youre okay
him that shed like to be a kind of mother and were okay
now hes on his own we break the fall
a drift of sallow bone
and nothing there to lift him from the shudder but hes okay
and youre okay
your first love teaches you and were okay
the parts of speech its nothing it all
all the words that you never thought
that you could reach

the shop and the bulletproof chinese

the yellow billboard yellow frieze
of last years summer flicks
and soon the bus of nations hits
its blinking in the breeze
Where Are the Arms
Come on, boy
Hasnt it been long enough?
When all you ever thinking of is
Where are the arms
that armed your love?
Come on, girl
In the window that you now look through
You see him grey and curled and blue
Where are the arms
that armed your love?
And come on, heart
Dress yourself in cartoon clothes
Color cut and fresh cut rose
Where are the arms
that armed your love?
So come on, boy
Light the light of narrow joy
Pick up the floor, your broken toy
Where are the arms
that armed your love?
LA
The color wheel and the western sky.
The reflection of a stranger in a strange fluorescent
light.
Water on the bathroom floor.
A mattress for an island and a plastic sheet for shore
la
The selfish city wins again.
She drives cause theres a lot of road.
And motion makes her calmer than to take it slow.
The man puts on the yellow gloves.
She concentrates discretely on the TV up above.
la
The selfish city wins again.
The windscreen is a cinema tonight
The shot of what she left behind
She sees herself in stereo.
The bungalow gets a splash of sun.
She opens up the front door when the man is done.
Water on the bathroom floor.
Tubs been up for days now and I cant see anymore.
Last Dance
When winter announced itself
new pleasures were smaller:
corner table, routines
daily walk to the main street;
she takes her bundle of pills,
she poaches her egg and eats it
and feels his slight impression
like crushed pillows
hold the shape of a body
after nights of sleep and shadows
oh dear woman
One final delight,
final delight in all the
finer things that
I had grown so used to
when all I want is your face;
all I want is a last dance.
So long. Whered you go?
Oh oh no.

She sits across eager men,

eager to impress her.
They offer words like,
your losshow are you getting on
dear woman? She
smiles and straightens her dress,
excuses herself, and gets up
out from the table, eyeing
the dessert tray.
Brief distraction, and then
the ladies lounge all decked in velvet
locks herself in the stall and
she begins to sing:

How do I deny,
do I deny that I am
tired and trembling
over evening when
all I want is a face to hold
and love and light and sex
and cigarettes?
Icebox Calabash & Catamaran
My grandmother catalogued Do you ever feel alone?
the contents of the icebox, Let me tell you about something I know
sure that theres a meal A device, a device
to be made from what was in there. I made something for you.
She offered us an orange
for the seven days of aftershocks, You could even call it home
dressed up in our best clothes there are pictures of people you know!
with the powder in our hair. A device, a device
I made something for you.
It sticks in the throat
It sticks in the throat We would prefer the shades be drawn
I tried to run, but it runs on remote. that you dont have to look back to whats gone
Do you like, do you like?
The blonde girls in midtown board We long to be near you.
the express for the East Side;
I stare for lack of purpose knowing You caress the dial
you are far and gone. It makes you whole again
I slept through my stop Lie behind the smile
and disembarked to make a joyride; You wake up fresh
Brighton Beach and Russian baths and well pretend that
and Hudson River dawn. You can feel the touch
ocean and shallow sand
It sticks in the throat You dont remember much
It sticks in the throat of calabash catamaran.
I tried to run, but it runs on remote.
From the glow and from the tongue
My grandmother listens You could taste it by tapping your thumb
to the men in conversation, Do you like, do you like?
sure that theres a reason We long to be near you.
to be silent and be still.
Table turned and jacket torn Whats in the pocket of your dress?
in ancient observation, Its like a lover but bothers you less
all of us in black against the February chill; the delight, the delight
I am at the window with my feet up on the sill. He longs to be near you.
All the devices
All that you like is ours
you touch the dial
lie behind the smile the wonder of the
small things a comfort
your delight in one word
oh we touch the dial
on and on and on and on
Barn Song
Kids dont learn to write their cursive
letters here anymore.
Fingers more than nimble,
and recalls in the frost.
Oh all these schools of lisping children,
singing rhymes to their dad.
What of words in cracked communion
noble, silent, and bare?
Come apart like needles,
and we dont know the names of
All these trees up on the island,
dont they just look the same?
Why dont you ever look up to the sky?
Windows are shuttered, you cover your eye
Dont see a reason for keeping in time.
What of films of Joseph Cotten,
angles shot from on high?
None of us remembers
the details of the plot, but
We found black and white romantic,
now youre left with the thought
Why dont you ever look up to the sky?
Windows are shuttered, you cover your eye
Dont see a reason for keeping in time,
youre always distracted, the devil in signs.
All these schools of lisping children,
singing rhymes to their dad.
Kids dont learn to write their cursive
letters here anymore.
Fingers more than nimble,
and recalls in the frost.
The last words all been lost.
Winter Song
where did it begin?
we forgot to mow the lawn
too much time spent
with electric deck of cards
where did it begin?
one day the words were gone
letters lost and found
in someones yard
kids fall down in the snow
they used to
shopping carts, a highway
toward a single spire
mask and glove and pipe
but not much learned
when you let me in
against that careless fire
all the farms all the farms
all the freight
all the books had burned
kids fall down in the snow
they used to
scratching out a past
we dont remember much with tooth and nail
words come apart like
tendon shattered bone
you knew well its touch
still got the linen but
the memorys thread is gone its all a pose.
kids fall down in the snow
Great Lakes
Beyond the spare black curtain
the candle and the glow,
My friend cant get a word in
between the din and the show,
Whats the use of hammering
whats all gone pale
from fright?
When were deaf and stammering
At least our clothes
are tight.
She second guessed his gesture
His threaded bucktooth grin.
She falls for men in sweatshirts
and boyish boys too thin.
Then that Modern Lovers song
filled up the room;
They sang in tune
so proud.
But that moment petered out;
she picked a fight
so whats that line
so whats that line
about?
And I cant forget you
even after scrubbing down the walls.
Where are the Arms is performed by
Casey Foubert
Matt Johnson
ROB MOOSE
GABRIEL KAHANE
With additonal musicians
Doug Wieselman, clarinet; Paul Kowert, double-bass;
Alex Sopp, flutes; Hideaki Aomori, bass clarinet,
clarinet; C J Camerieri, trumpet, french horns; Mike
Davis, trombone; Chris Komer, french horn; Jody
Redhage, cello; Chris Thile, guitar, background
vocals; Jeff Taylor, background vocals; Marcus Rojas,
tuba; Aoife ODonovan, background vocals; Michaela
Anne Neller, background vocals; Ben Russell, violin;
Nadia Sirota, viola; Wolfram Koessel, cello.
All music, lyrics, and arrangements by Gabriel
Kahane 2011 Magdeburg Music (ascap) except:
Charming Disease, string arrangement by Gabriel
Kahane and Rob Moose; Parts of Speech, lyrics
by Gabriel Kahane, music by Gabriel Kahane and
Rob Moose; 2011 Magdeburg Music (ascap) and
Penumbral Music (ascap); and Barn Song, music
by Casey Foubert, Matt Johnson, Gabriel Kahane,
and Rob Moose; 2011 Loi du Moindre Effort
(ascap), Mindofmatt Music (bmi), Magdeburg
Music (ascap), and Penumbral Music (ascap).
Mixed by Casey Foubert
Mastered by TW Walsh
Produced by Casey Foubert and Gabriel Kahane.
Executive Producer: Dick Connette
Recorded in 2010-201 1 at the Bredouw Barn on
Orcas Island in Eastsound, wa , Water Music in
Hoboken, nj , 2nd Story Sound in New York, ny, and
at the homes of Casey Foubert, Gabriel Kahane and
Alex Venguer. Engineered by Jim Bredouw, Casey
Foubert, Gabriel Kahane, Stewart Lerman, and Alex
Venguer.
Cover photograph, booklet portrait, and contact sheet
by Josh Goleman.
Art direction and design by Cassandra Jenkins.
Special thanks
Jim Bredouw and the entire Bredouw clan. Ted and
Mary Jo Shen, Nathan Philips, Simon Yates, Rob
Bethge, Jerry Kohl, Bill Cooney and Ruth Eliel, Joel
McNeely and Margaret Batjer, and Jordy Mont-Rey-
naud for funding this project. Without your support,
this album would not have happened. To Casey and
Rob this is your record as much as it is mine. And
Matt, for getting us through dark times with beef.
Thanks also to all of my friends and colleagues who
played so beautifully on this record. To my teachers, in
particular Kenneth Frazelle. Henry Stram, Jazzy Dan,
Tamar Adler, Nail Thile, and Siege. To Emma for her
love and patience, and last but not least, to my sister
and to my parents with love and gratitude.