5

Act One. Scene i.

(Dark stage in limbo. Tight spotlight on Guy sitting at a keyboard. He’s in his dimly-lit studio, a highly techhie, state-of-the-art music writing and production facility. He’s rumpled, tired, in his early 40s, longhaired, good-looking in an offbeat way. Music paper is strewn all around in crumpled balls. He’s fingering chords through different electronic voice modes… Improvising… Experimenting.)

GUY:

It’s got to be here. I know it’s in here somewhere. I know I have one more song left in me. I mean, I KNOW I have…

(He improvises a few rhythmless chords, aimlessly, searchingly)

Maybe it’s another rap number…

(His improvised chords take on a rap beat. He switches the keyboard voice to a harsh rap mode and mumbles lyric)

THE MOTHER-FREAKING SONG

IS ON THE MOTHER-FREAKING TRAIN

BUT IN ANOTHER FREAKING STATION

JUST A-FREAKING LOST AGAIN…

THE MOTHER-FREAKING FREAKER…

(He speaks)

Nope… that’s not it. Missing something… Maybe, instead, I’ll do a song full of those great poetic touchy-feely sentiments and words. I really like that stuff. It has a kind of beauty to it. And people are buying a lot of it a lot lately.

(He improvises chords, changes mode of keyboard to soft lilt and sings nonmelodicly):

I HAVE A SONG CAUGHT DEEP INSIDE OF ME.

AND I CAN’T HEAR IT.

I’VE LOST MY SONG IN A FOREST TO DREAMS

AND I CAN’T SEE THE TREES FOR THE DREAMS IN THE WINDOW.

I HAVE A DREAM THERE AMONG THE TREES… AND I HAVE A LIFE.

I HAVE A CAR PAYMENT DUE.

AND I HAVE A GREAT MODULATION HERE

FROM Eb TO B NATURAL...

BUT I ALSO HAVE A HEADACHE

AND MY STOMACH IS BEGINNING TO HURT…

(He speaks)

Shit! That’s not it either. That’s a great chord change to use somewhere though. Could be a real hook… Hey, maybe it’s rhythm. A real heavy rhythm number like my last two singles. Well, not like the last one. That one bombed. The whole CD bombed, lay on the countertops like a week-old stain… But the right rhythm can carry any song. Something like, let’s see…

(He raps fingers on top of keyboard, speaks in rhythm.)

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

KABAM A-CHINK A-CHINK-A…

Hey, this is getting awesome! Man! I really resonate to this…

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

DE-BLEEP DE-BLEEP!

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

DE-BLEEP DE-BLEEP!

(Speaks)

I’m gonna keep this beat and lay in some words. I can always overlay a melody line later and mix it in. I feel the lyric coming in loud and clear. All RIGHT! Here it is…

(Excitedly)

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

KABAM A-CHINK A-CHINK-A…

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

DE-BLEEP DE-BLEEP!

KABAM! KA-DINK-KA CHINK!

DE-BLEEP DE…

(Fades out)

Thought I had it for sure that time. Guess not. Well maybe in the morning. Jeez… It’s past midnight already… Oh God… What am I going to do? I really thought I heard some lyrics coming in there…

IRVING:

(Just a voice with a slight Jewish accent, singing)

I TRIED TO WRITE A SONG, IT’S STUCK!

I’M OUT OF LUCK.

GUY:

What?

IRVING:

I TRIED TO WRITE A SONG, IT’S STUCK!

I’M OUT OF LUCK.

THAT SONG…

GUY:

Damn it, who’s there? That’s all I need, some kind of nut wandering in. Come out for Christ’s sakes.

(Flicks on bright light. Reveals studio… empty.)

Where’s that stupid voice coming from anyway?

IRVING:

(Speaks like a stereotypic Jewish businessman or tradesman)

It’s not so stupid, sonny. Respect your elders. And it’s coming from you… but also, it’s coming from me. And turn that light down. You can’t see me anyway.

GUY:

Where the hell are you from?

IRVING:

Uh… wrong direction, right idea… Guess again, Sonny-boy.

GUY:

What? Don't tell me you’re from Heaven!

IRVING:

Right on the button… Heaven, I’m from Heaven…

GUY:

Oh God… what's going on here?

IRVING:

Actually, I’m not that far from God. But I’ve still got a long way to go.

GUY:

Great, now I’m going nuts… heavenly voices…. Calling ME? C’mon already…

IRVING:

So I came already. Besides you’re the one who called. It’s your nickel. So what’s up anyway?

GUY:

I’m trying to write a song, that’s all, Not calling anyone…

IRVING:

That stuff you call writing a song, that’s what’s calling… that’s also what’s appalling. Sonny-boy, your music needs a muse!

GUY:

So is that what you’re trying to tell me, you’re some kind of muse?

IRVING:

No, it’s more like I’m some kind of amusing. But listen boychick, I was known for songs in my day. You needed one so I brought you one.

GUY:

You brought me a song? What do you mean, you brought me a song?

IRVING:

So what’s so hard to understand? I… brought… you… a… song. Nothing tricky about that. Very simple. I was known for my simplicity with words. So, Kiddo, you want to listen?

GUY:

OK, I’ll listen. I must be crazy. But I must admit, I need all the help I can get right now.

IRVING:

I’ll say you do. Those things you were playing, fer-schlugener.

Now here’s a REAL song!

(He sings)

I TRIED TO WRITE A SONG, IT’S STUCK!

I’M OUT OF LUCK.

GUY:

You’ve got to be kidding. That rhymes like poetry. Lyrics don’t rhyme … unless they’re rap. And that’s sure not rap. That’s more like… uh, crap.

IRVING:

Pardon me? Just you wait a minute, sonny… that’s only the verse. It gets better in the chorus. We always start a little light, just to set the mood, and save the good stuff for the chorus. Wanna hear it?

GUY:

OK, besides the rest of my mind, what have I got to lose?

IRVING:

Exactly.

GUY:

So let’s hear it.

IRVING:

My song?

GUY:

Yeah, what are you waiting for? Applause? A curtain to go up? C’mon…

IRVING:

I used to like that… applause… curtains going up… stealing an extra bow… OK, listen to this:

(He sings with a flourish, a somewhat nasal, vaudeville-style voice)

I TRIED TO WRITE A SONG, IT’S STUCK!

I’M OUT OF LUCK.

THAT SONG WAS MEANT JUST FOR US,

MAYBE THE VERSE WOULD BORE US…

SO FORGET IT! HERE’S THE CHORUS…

GUY:

(Groans)

Oh! No!!!

IRVING:

SAY IT WITH A SONG,

A REALLY BEAUTIFUL SONG.

JUST SING THE WORDS YOU’RE THINKING OF

TO THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE YOU LOVE.

LET YOUR LYRICS DO IT.

YOU’LL SEE THERE’S NOTHING TO IT

FOR SPEEDING ROMANCE ALONG.

TELL HER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER WITH A SONG.

GUY:

I don’t get it.

IRVING:

Keep listening… you will. What's to get anyway? It's a song.

LET YOUR LYRICS DO IT.

YOU’LL SEE THERE’S NOTHING TO IT

FOR SPEEDING ROMANCE ALONG.

TELL HER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER WITH A SONG.

GUY:

I still don’t get it.

IRVING:

You will. Just let it sink in. It will change your life.

GUY:

Jeez, I guess I could use a change…. Say, just who are you anyway?

IRVING:

Just call me Irv.

GUY:

Irv?

IRVING:

Yeah, short for Irving. I used to write songs for a living too, you know.

GUY:

You made a living writing songs like that?

IRVING:

That’s right, kiddo. That one's not so bad. But some… some were even better.

GUY:

Well I never heard of any of them.

IRVING:

Fewer people remember each year. It’s sad.

And then there are all the songs that got lost, thousands of them.

GUY:

Thousands of songs you wrote got lost? Where did you leave them anyway.

IRVING:

Not just mine, all of ours. We just never wrote them down anywhere. And, you know? They’re not actually lost. Creative work is never lost. The songs were just never found. They’re floating out there… millions and millions of bits and pieces of songs… just waiting…

GUY:

Those songs that you never wrote down, what kind of songs were they?

IRVING:

All kinds, ballads, waltzes, rhythm numbers, production numbers … I used to have closets full of them. Like the old vaudeville joke about the guy with a closet full of pancakes who goes to the psychiatrist and says…

GUY:

Please! Forget it! Skip the joke.

IRVING:

OK, I threw away the punchline already anyhow. I was never good with punchlines in jokes, only punchlines in songs… Say, you know you need a song, right? You’re not exactly saying it with music lately you know.

GUY:

Not these days, I’m not.

IRVING:

So take the one sang I brought you. It’s yours.

GUY:

Take it where? I don’t even like it.

IRVING:

Take it anyway. It likes you. Like I said, it will change your life. Here’s another chorus. I used to love second choruses. While I sing it, you write it down so it doesn’t get lost again.

GUY:

OK, OK.

IRVING:

SAY IT WITH A SONG,

A REALLY BEAUTIFUL SONG.

JUST SING THE WORDS YOU’RE THINKING OF

TO THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE YOU LOVE.

LET YOUR LYRICS DO IT.

YOU’LL SEE THERE’S NOTHING TO IT

FOR SPEEDING ROMANCE ALONG.

TELL HER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER WITH A SONG.

(Speaks)

Hey boychick, you write fast! That’s good! Now put it in your pocket and don’t forget it.

(Guy grudgingly folds up song and tucks it in his back pocket. As he leaves, the lights dim.)

To see an entire script and learn more about
Music Channel!

You can hear some songs from the score right here.