KYLE TRIMPER
Musician/Songwriter/Producer/Audio Engineer
CLOSING TIME
"Towards the end of recording what would become Closing Time, I suddenly decided I wanted to be Tom Waits: maybe it was the result of being surrounded by jazz musicians for a year. Time was almost up for me to finish the recording, so I hastily sketched the lyrics the night before the final recording session: I was thinking of Edward Hopper's 'Nighthawks' when I wrote them. Late at night in the studio, I sat down at the piano, completely improvising the melody as I recorded: what you hear on Closing Time is the third and final take, errors and all.
At the same time, I had been agonizing on what to call the damn album: I didn't want to self-title it, or give it a lame title like Beginnings or such, and none of the songs recorded had a title-track worthy title. "Closing Time" changed all that: it set the mood for what I had been recording all winter, and provided a unifying theme of sorts. I found out later that Tom Waits' first album was also called Closing Time and the title track was the final track on said album. Oops. Fuck it, I was committed at that point. Mr. Waits, please remind your lawyers that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery..."
Appears On:
And as the "B-Side" to:
My heart is like some kind of boozy café
Were the patrons hide whiskey in jacket side pockets
It's worn out and used up, and at four in the morning
The owner should pack it up and call it a night
My heart is a refuge for junkies and bloody booze-hounds
When they're too drunk to stay in the bars
It's a second-rate tavern with speak-easy tendencies
Give the waiter a dollar and he'll slip you a gin
So if you want another shot of bourbon
If you want just one for the road
Better make it a double and then be on your way
It's closing time at the Lovesick Café
My heart is a place where the counter is stained
With a hundred or so black cigarette burns
The upholstery is lifting and the windows are greasy
But nobody ever complains
'Cause the sort of people that frequent this café
Are not looking out, nor looking ahead
They're watching the Yankees on the ten inch TV
A conversation piece to distract them from me
So if you want another shot of bourbon
If you want just one for the road
Better make it a double and then be on your way
It's closing time at the Lovesick Café
But the hour is late and the coffee is stale
And the regulars doze at the counter
He switches the sign and cleans off the tables
While the owner counts his take at the register
So if you want another shot of bourbon
If you want just one for the road
Better make it a double and then be on your way
It's closing time now at the Lovesick Café
It's closing time now at the Lovesick Café...
Kyle Trimper: Lead vocals, piano, acoustic guitar, mandolin, accordion, keyboards
Roger Trimper: Accordion
Dog: Dog noises