RE-POST: Rescue of the Tin Man (bonus)

Original post by Hand Drawn Records, Tuesday, March 22nd.

We asked W.A. Fite to deliver us one more bonus track to cap off our media tyrade before his album release next Monday, and he definitely did just that; hitting us with one of the coolest synth and breakbeat takes we’ve heard from the artist...(read more)

HEAR MP3 HERE:
Rescue of the Tin Man (bonus) by handdrawnrecords

http://handdrawnrecords.tumblr.com/

Bonus Track for Digital Release - March 28th

Hand Drawn Records has set the release date for "Poisoning the Medicine Tree", MONDAY, MARCH 28th. In preparation, they asked me to make a track for the digital release as a bonus to a full length album purchase (only available on my bandcamp site). The bonus track is called "Chinese Christmas", and it is so good that it has made me want to write an entire Christmas album¡¡¡

BANDCAMP LINK: http://wafite.bandcamp.com

Production Stills III: Video "Western In A"

Last set of stills....maybe...

Courtesy James Villa Photography © 2011

Video: Western In A

Dallas-Fort Worth provides the eclectic backdrop of art, architecture and culture for the first video installation for W.A. Fite; featuring the track "Western In A". The song is a trek into the composer's past, recalling the loss of an early love for an equally beleaguered run at making music for a living.



W.A. Fite
"Western In A"
Poisoning the Medicine Tree

Hand Drawn Records / El Villa Films
Copyright Fite Lite Productions 2011
http://www.youtube.com/wfite

Lyrics: Feet in the Water

Feet in the river, now calm the waters.
Dirty black toes and eyes that wander.
Clap on the lap and whistle nonsense, but please don't you shake the water...

It's calm, the shade won't glide, won't move an inch.
The heat it wears, it wears me down.

Feet in the river, who's making breakfast?
We rose earlier than Mom should've let us.
Head full of hat, weary pant legs, snapping thumbs and whistle nonsense.

It's calm, the shade won't glide, won't move an inch.
The heat it wears, it wears me down.
My hands go brown, the mind clears up and out the head...I hear no sound.

Feet in the river, who's gonna join me?
I'd ask Sister, but she called me ugly.
Called big Brother said, "Come sit beside me." But he's too busy with Neighbor Holly.

It's calm, the shade won't glide, won't move an inch.
The heat it wears, it wears me down.
My hands go brown, the mind clears up and out the head...I hear no sound.

Lyrics: That Ain't The Way (To The Heart)

That ain't the way to the heart.
A doubled down face of liar.
It's best to get then go. Clean the pants and on with the show.

That ain't the way to the heart.
A bow. A gun. A dart.
A doubled down face of a liar, enough to catch a fire.

That ain't the way to get at me.
That act is not complete.
Them ankles look good, like them feet, so get them on the street.

That ain't the way to the heart.
A doubled down face of a liar...a liar.

The Picture Show: "Western in A" Video Stills / Take 2

"Western in A"

Production stills from upcoming music video.

Courtesy El Villa Films and James Villa Photography

Paunch Gut. Speedy Nose.

A paunch gut and a speedy nose, the middle child of three, both now a man and my foe. Not in a fiendish sense, but in the place of a deterrent; one that would not allow me to fulfill my own time as I incessantly metered his watch during his slow decline.

The man was wildly incoherent for most of his mid-life, which was for him, only the age of 32. I had not the intention of predicting his short lifespan, but it was rather impossible to dismiss, being part of an ongoing conversation amongst the ones who knew him the worst.

I would not like to trifle his life; conversely he was one of my closest friends. I would only like to say that I knew him, and in knowing him I instinctively did not trace his steps, seeing that they were ones only a fool or lonely heart would dare to take.

Perhaps that drops him into one of the two tattered categories, which would probably not offend a man with so distended a stomach. As a man like that lends himself to consumption, but little else.

ALBUM ART: Poisoning the Medicine Tree

"Poisoning the Medicine Tree" by W.A. Fite

Artwork by Dustin Blocker

Lyrics: Jack

Waters mix with the paint and brush. An orange fleck stroke makes your Granpa's hand rush.
People who wait, are the ones who mind. They mind their Mothers. They mind their hairlines.

Will you be just like me?
Resigned to draw your walls in colored streaks?
Should we keep the house unlocked when we leave?

Your Mother preens and primps the house. She wipes the tables, wipes your mouth.
The clothes have grown big, with closets small. The pets go wild waiting in the cramped hall.

Will you be just like me?
Restless at the age where most find peace?
A cold day in December, one marked in ink.

Son you'll see...I'll give you words to see.
That only brave men dine in the Captain's seat.

Will you be just like me?
Slow to write your numbers, slow to speak?
Should your Mother and I wait up till you sleep?

Son you'll see...I'll give you words to see.
That we're all tied bound to the Family Tree.