You know that type of older lady that tries to sell the idea that she has never had gas in her life. Maybe it’s your great aunt or a neighbor who used to babysit you. She gives you three bowls of bean soup for dinner and then is appalled when you release enough natural gas to power a small country. As if she is too proper to ever bust a stinker after some sauerkraut. This type of lady frequently makes a particular sound. “Tzzzzz.” It always coincides with a loud sigh. She pretends that her “tzzzzz” is part of the sigh. It’s like air leaking from a punctured tire. She isn’t kidding anybody, it’s a belch. An assassin puts a silencer on a gun. Your car has a muffler. Old ladies throw a “tzzzzz” on their burps.

I was in the studio recording the vocals for “Red Eye Waltz.” I was struggling. I sounded like that old lady with the leaky burb. Waltz is hard to sing. If you don’t get enough “t,” it sounds like walls. It’s essential to emphasize the “z” as well. Otherwise, the song is about a guy named Walt who has red eyes. If I had realized how hard it would be to sing the phrase “red eye waltz,” I would have written the “Red Eye Tango” instead.

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