Now and Then

Credits

Now and Then was recorded in 2000 and in 2021 & 2023 at Clamsville Productions and Michael Broening Productions in Arizona. The project consisted of using recordings from a variety of sources including recordings from 1998 that were digitally preserved and added to with additional tracks, new recordings in 2021 & 2023 from scratch and recordings that were started by Richard in his home studio. Some of the same musicians are on the 2000 and 2021 recordings. Literally Now and Then.

All songs were written by Richard B. Marx

Producers:  Richard B.  Marx and John Hererra

Recording engineering by: John Hererra and Michael Broening

Mastering: John Herrera/Clamsville Productions

Vocals and Guitars: Richard B. Marx

Keyboards: Michael Broening

Drums & Percussion: John Herrera

Bass Guitar: Dimitri Sanhas and Melvin Brown

Additional vocals: Diana Lee

Lyric

Ready Willing and Able

Written by: Richard B. Marx

Come and move a little closer, whisper in my ear

Honey you don’t have to lie to me, just tell me what I want to hear

I’m sick and tired of all this small talk, the witty repartee

There’s only one thing left for you to say

Ready Willing and Able, that sweet refrain

Ready Willing and Able, can only mean one thing

Why don’t you make yourself crystal clear, clear as the light of day

Ready Willing and Able is all you got to say

I think I heard what you thought you said, if you know what I mean

You’ve explained yourself perfectly, that’s what’s confusing me

Why don’t you paint me a picture, throw in some charts and graphs

Or maybe you could just give me the facts

Ready Willing and Able, that sweet refrain

Ready Willing and Able can only mean one thing

Why don’t you make yourself crystal clear, clear as the light of day

Ready Willing and Able is all you got to say

Everclear

Written by: Richard B. Marx

Some juke joint dive off of Venice Beach

It’s dark inside so I shuffle my feet up to a bar stool

This Sunday crowd is the perfect blend

A diverse mix from the low rent end of the gene pool

Way in the back someone’s holding court

Disciples gathered ‘round

I bend an ear of indifference

Towards his impassioned sounds

Calls himself Everclear

For the price of a drink, he will lay you bare

This alcoholic savant with his martini stare

Knows your future, your past, acts like he doesn’t care

He’ll ride the mystic wave if you’re still buyin’ the beer

That keeps him Everclear

He never fails, gets inside your head

And your worst fear is to lie in a bed of your own mistakes

A gift from God or a curse from hell

100 proof from his bottomless well, is more than you could take

From somewhere deep in his pickled soul

Dark secrets kept at bay

For every drop he squeezes out

There’s so much he won’t say

For he is Everclear

For the price of a drink, he will lay you bare

This alcoholic savant with his martini stare

Knows your future, your past, acts like he doesn’t care

He’ll ride the mystic wave if you’re still buyin’ the beer

That keeps him Everclear

He is Everclear

Everclear

Hang A Right At Albuquerque

Written by: Richard B. Marx

This work-a-day with no time for play has me up against the wall

The sides keep getting deeper in this rut I’m in

Just when I think there’s no way out that song comes on the radio

You know that one ’bout Mexico and takes me back to places I have been

I’m going to hang a right at Albuquerque

Head down south for some tender mercy

Take the top down ’round El Paso

Gonna habla me some espanol

I’m going to hang a right at Albuquerque

Take it slow no need to hurry

Do some good for this old gringo’s soul

In some border town down in Mexico

Cantina, senorita, enchilada, margarita

Are the only words in Spanish that I know

And that funny look upon my face is just a big old smile

It’s with me all the while

It seems to turn up everywhere I go

I’m going to hang a right at Albuquerque

Head down south for some tender mercy

Take the top down ’round El Paso

Gonna habla me some espanol

I’m going to hang a right at Albuquerque

Take it slow no need to hurry

Do some good for this old gringo’s soul

In some border town down in Mexico

Do some good for this old gringo’s soul

In some border town down in Mexico

This Woman I Know

Written by: Richard B. Marx

This woman I know has the smile like the face of a twelve-year old

Holding hands on a first date picture show

But the innocence of a lady of the night

Asking for the time of day

This woman I know she’s as warm as the sun in the afternoon

Through the window of my favorite room

But she can cut me cold as a dagger that’s been carved from solid ice

This woman I know

This woman I know is more than I deserve

I’d give her my soul and ask nothing in return

Of this woman I know

With her touch she sooths my every nerve as I memorize her every curve

You could take from me all that I have for another night like this

With this woman I know

We shared our lives we shared our bed with the passion of the newlywed

Sometimes our love hangs by a thread, but I’m never letting go

Of this woman I know

This woman I know is more than I deserve

I’d give her my soul and ask nothing in return

Of this woman I know

All the times she pulled me from my madness

Can’t imagine where I’d be today

Whispers to me in the voice of angels

I still love you anyway

This woman I know

This woman I know is more than I deserve

And I’d give her my soul and ask nothing in return

Of this woman I know

This woman I know

This woman I know

Technicolor

Written by: Richard B. Marx

Ever since I was a wild-eyed child, I’ve had this fantasy

That leading man upon the silver screen really should have been me

He always looks so good, knows just what to say

If he gets in a jam, he always gets away

So laissez faire, he lets the chips fall where they may

I want to live my life in Technicolor

Save the world a hundred times a day

Drive fancy cars and sleep with gorgeous lovers

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Never thought that my celluloid dreams could do me any harm

But lately some of my very close friends have gotten quite alarmed

I quit my job couldn’t see any use in it

Such a bore reality, guess I lost my grip

I don’t make a single move without a script

I want to live my life in Technicolor

Save the world a hundred times a day

Drive fancy cars and sleep with gorgeous lovers

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Go to exotic places, disguised in different faces

Livin’ life on the run, don’t have to trust no one

I’m always in the money, everyone thinks I’m funny

I found my place in the sun

I want to live my life in Technicolor

Save the world a hundred times a day

Drive fancy cars and sleep with gorgeous lovers

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Save the world a hundred times a day

Drive fancy cars and sleep with gorgeous lovers

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

In Dolby THX

In Technicolor

Love those special effects

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

A multi-screen complex

In Technicolor

With lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of sex

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Livin’ my life in Technicolor

Who Shaves The Barber

Written by: Richard B. Marx

I’ve been watching you for a week or two

And you know that I know that you know what I’m here to do

You see I’ve come for you

You love the guns and the drugs, the hours and the pay

An adrenaline junky with your badass outlaw ways

You live for dangerous play

With your delusional karma and your bullet proof dreams

Your samurai politics and felony schemes

You’ve made some enemies

Who shaves the barber, who calls the shots

Someone who can get up close and doesn’t care what it costs

Who shaves the barber at the end of his day

And when the deed is done is there nothing more left to say

A hundred years ago I still called you friend

We both used to run a little wild even way back then

Runnin’ on the wind

But you never slowed down, no you never looked back

You pushed and you pushed ‘til you wound up with blood in your tracks

Deep and bloody tracks

Now someone’s gone and put you on their special list

And it’s me they called in and I’m the very best

Now you can guess the rest

Who shaves the barber, who calls the shots

Someone who can get up close and doesn’t care what it costs

Who shaves the barber at the end of his day

And when the deed is done is there nothing more left to say

I’ve been lookin’ over my shoulder nearly 24 hours a day

There’s a ghost of a man in the mirror, who’s seen his better days

And if I had it to do all over, I would never let it end this way

With a shot in the dark and nothing more left to say

Who shaves the barber, who calls the shots

Someone who can get up close and doesn’t care what it costs

Who shaves the barber at the end of his day

And when the deed is done is there nothing more left to say

Banana Republic

Written by: Richard B. Marx

He says he comes from northern Idaho

Just off the boat from Bogotá

Some special training back in ‘63

Strictly against the law

You say you want it done quietly

With no questions asked at all

If you can pay in cash with unmarked bills

Then he’s the man you want to call

Down in Banana Republic, where rules are subject to change

Just don’t mess with my money and stay one step up on the game

Down in Banana Republic, you keep your back to the wall

Don’t go looking for trouble and watch the dark end of the hall

You say your trade is ending misery

You’re like some minor league god

You feel compassion for the enemy

But not enough to stop

Your world is shapeless shadows everywhere

How can you even find your way

But now it’s all that you know how to do

And they’re so willing to pay

Down in Banana Republic, where rules are subject to change

Just don’t mess with my money and stay one step up on the game

Down in Banana Republic, you keep your back to the wall

Don’t go looking for trouble and watch the dark end of the hall

One day they’ll find you face down in the dirt

Will there be anyone who’ll care

You think if you keep movin’ you’ll be fine

But you ain’t going nowhere

Down in Banana Republic, where rules are subject to change

Just don’t mess with my money and stay one step up on the game

Down in Banana Republic, you keep your back to the wall

Don’t go looking for trouble and watch the dark end of the hall

Banana Republic

Shangri-la

Written by: Richard B. Marx

The old man knows things he’s not telling me

He lives a separate world apart

The lightness of his laughter’s killing me

With lessons for a foolish heart

The old man’s seen things he’s not showing me

He answers to a distant call

I trace his footsteps as he’s leading me

On our way to Shangri-la

Shangri-la, out on that lost horizon

The road is hard, the way is far

Shangri-la, the mist is slowly rising

And shows the way to Shangri-la

I look around, I listen carefully

And wonder why we all agree

To live our lives so full of misery

With so much longing to be free

Shangri-la, out on that lost horizon

The road is hard, the way is far

Shangri-la, the mist is slowly rising

And shows the way to Shangri-la

Shangri-la, out on that lost horizon

And shows the way to Shangri-la

Workin’ Without a Net

Written by: Richard B. Marx

Melinda came from where the corn grows straight and tall

A little worn-out town just south of nowhere at all

She knew she’d never make it through another dreary day

So she packed it up, caught a bus and rolled away

Headed east wound up in New York City

Didn’t know a soul but she took no pity

She faces each and every day without fear or regret

Now she’s workin’, Workin’ Without a Net

Marcos lives in East LA where guns they grow on trees

The shots can come from anywhere, like some deadly random breeze

He swore he’d raise his family there, wasn’t ’bout to move away

Said blood is blood at any price he’s gonna stay

He would get respect where there wasn’t any

With an open hand against so many

He faces each and every day without fear or regret

Now he’s workin’, Workin’ Without a Net

As you’re breathin’ your last breath, the reaper at your door

Starin’ down that tunnel through which every soul must pour

Will you face towards the light, and with open arms be met

Now you’re workin’, Workin’ Without a Net

Yes you’re workin’, Workin’ Without a Net

Workin’, Workin’ Without a Net

Livin’ With The Blues

Written by: Richard B. Marx

I guess he just showed up one day, I can’t remember when

Before I knew what happened, he just moved right in

Thought he was only passing through, stay for a day or two

But now I know how wrong I was, I’m living with the blues

Livin’, Living with the blues

I tried to throw the sucker out, the guy is just bad news

I’m Livin’, Living with the blues

Looks like the blues is here to stay, I’m livin’ with the blues

The blues he likes to sleep in late, up by one or two

Helps himself to all my cake, drinks up all my booze

No money can’t afford no rent, he’s wearing’ my best shoes

But then I guess that’s what you get when you’re Livin’ with the blues

Livin’, Living with the blues

I tried to throw the sucker out, the guy is just bad news

I’m Livin’, Living with the blues

Looks like the blues is here to stay, I’m livin’ with the blues

The Blues is like a shadow that I can never shake

I never should have let him in that was my first mistake

I’m Livin’, Living with the blues

Looks like the blues is here to stay, I’m livin’  livin’ with the blues

Livin’, Living with the blues

I tried to throw the sucker out, the guy is just bad news

I’m Livin’, Living with the blues

Looks like the blues is here to stay, I’m livin’  livin’ with the blues

Domesticated Man

Written by: Richard B. Marx

Sometimes I get restless just plain bored with this day today

And it gets me to thinking I could live my life some other way

I start dreaming and scheming my imagination runs away with me

Off to some very foreign country foreign far as the eye can see

But then I look into your eyes I’m staring right at the promised land

Because when it comes down to it, I’m your domesticated man

Domesticated man take out your trash and make your breakfast for you Domesticated man I’m something else out on the barbecue

Domesticated man I don’t expect no one to understand

But if there’s one thing for certain I’m your domesticated man

I’d like to beat the heat rub noses with the Eskimos

Maybe moved Tahiti and paint portraits with my big toes

Open the laundry in Cairo I hear the people there are very very clean

Or teach the mambo in Morocco that would really be making the scene

But it ain’t ever going to happen just not part of the natural plan

Because when it comes down to it, I’m your domesticated man

Domesticated man take out your trash and make your breakfast for you Domesticated man I’m something else out on the barbecue

Domesticated man I don’t expect no one to understand

But if there’s one thing for certain I’m your domesticated man

Open up a little cappuccino stand in Bogota

We could stay up all night probably never have to sleep at all

But it ain’t ever going to happen just not part of the natural plan

Because when it comes down to it honey, I’m your domesticated man

Domesticated man take out your trash and make your breakfast for you Domesticated man I’m something else out on the barbecue

Domesticated man I don’t expect no one to understand

But if there’s one thing for certain I’m your domesticated man

Because when it comes down to it honey, I’m your domesticated man