Indie Film Man: A Song For Sundance

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Like a lot of guys who played in garage bands when they were teenagers, I’ve kept playing and writing songs. I’ve forgotten the lyrics and the melodies to most of them years ago, but lately I’ve taken to recording a few.  So, without further ado, here is:

Indie Film Man

I was inspired to write the song a few years ago when I was packing my suitcase for Sundance and Roger McGuinn’s “So You Want Be A Rock n’ Roll Star” happened to be playing. It occurred to that the world of independent film was ripe for parody. I used the word “Indie” in the title because I’ve always detested it for corrupting the word “independent” into a candy bar.

If you want to be an INDIE FILM MAN
Get yourself a Handicam
Read the manual if you can and then
Grab yourself a bunch of friends
Tell a story about an indian
Who was a Native American
And he’s dealing with being a lesbian
With his mama on the juice
And his daddy in the can
But damned if he don’t find redemption in the end
With love and mercy and a truck-driving nun named Dan

Soon you’ll be at Sundance
Snow bunnies begging to get in your pants
Agents trying to be your friend
And you’ll never go back to Teaneck again.

Gay or straight, a woman or a man
You get laid, it’s really great to be an INDIE FILM MAN.

Your film gets shown at a sidebar at Cannes
Where the French girls take off their tops as they tan
Jerry Lewis and you loved by Parisienes,
’Cause you
Are a true-blue INDIE FILM MAN

Soon you’ll be back at Sundance
You’ll meet Bobby Redford and you’ll piss in your pants
‘Cause you can’t believe you got this chance

Why should you have a rock & roll band
If you can

Soon you’ve got another feature in the can
Starring Harvey Keitel and a chick from “Friends”
This merry-go-round will never end
You can depend
You’ll always win you’re an INDIE FILM MAN

The publicity man and the various brands dine and wine you
Movie stars try to get you on the phone
And all your best friends hit a big dead end trying to find you
But in your hotel room you’re even more alone

When you can’t remember when anything made sense
You understand
You little lamb