Stu News and Photos

Classical Rap
By P.D.Q. Bach
(transcribed, with love, by Stu Mark)


So, anyway,
Now hear the sound
Of the very best rapper
For miles around
Yes I'm the fella
Who's where it's at
There's absolutely no denying that
Yes, I'm the apex
I'm the best
I'm considerably better
Than all the rest
The acme
The zenith
The tippest of the top
The ne plus ultra
The hippest of the hop
The summit
The pinnacle
The highest of the high
The apogee of rappers
That's I

Well, I'm doing pretty well
For myself right now
I'm pulling down
About eighty thou'
My wife makes forty
(She's a Vassar grad)
And, hey, for a woman
That's not half bad
So we're talkin' six figures here
But there's one thing I want to make
Crystal clear
I have to laugh
And I have to scoff
When I hear people
Calling us well off
Anyone who thinks
That we're sittin' pretty
Doesn't know what it's like
In the big, bad city

You gotta buy your apartment
But the mortgage'll be
A mere pittance
Compared to the maintenance fee
To get a lightbulb changed
In the hall
Takes twenty-seven men
(It's a union call)

The doorman
The mailman
The sanitation crew
The parking attendant
And the cleaning lady too
The Super and his helpers
They all get tips
And then we got to talk
About the memberships

The book club
The wine club
The health club fees
The fruit-of-the-month club
And the one for cheese
The opera subscription
The museum and the zoo
The Sierra Club
The ACLU

There's the magazines
To which you must subscribe
There's the plumbing inspector
That you have to bribe
There's the parking space
You have to rent or buy
There's the country house
For the month of July

You will never have money
You can never relax
With a federal, state, and city
Income Tax
And you can't do your own returns
Oh no
You might end up paying
What you owe

Hey, I'm no Bonnie
And I'm no Clyde
I'm just tryin' to get along
On the UHH! Upper West Side!

Now anyone will tell you
That you're a fool
If you don't send your kids
To a private school
And no one living here
Would even think
Of trying to get along
Without seeing a shrink

A yoga class
Every other day
Helps chase the subway
Blues away
Not to mention the blues
From the doctor bills
And the root canals
And the various pills

Your daughter takes flute
And dancing too
Your son takes piano
Guitar and Kung-Fu
The baby's allergic
To cotton, not silk
The cat can only drink
Gerbil milk

A babysitter here
(If she's got half a brain)
Can make more money
Than the Governor of Maine
Ok, I know
That's not hard to do
But I think my message is getting through

You've got a lot to lose
You've got a lot to hide
When you're tryin' to get along
On the Ugh! Upper West Side!

On Sundays,
To give my wife a treat,
The kids and I
Used to hit the street
We'd grab some donuts
And head for the park
Sometimes we wouldn't come back
'Til dark
Well that was only fair
I freely acknowledge
But, hey, now our kids
Are both in college
Yet here I am
Still out on the street
Soaking up rain
And killing my feet
By walking this dog
All over the place
So my wife can have
Her precious space
Is this High Noon?
I'm Gary Cooper?
Facing the world
With a pooper scooper?

In New York City,
They always say,
You can get anything
Any time of day

But you're looking at a man
Who can't get what he wants
Zabar's is out
Of chocolate croissants

The Book Review
Was missing from The Times
The Korean market
Is out of limes

The pool hall here
Closed up last week
To make room for another
Ice cream boutique

You don't know a thing
About suffering in pain
If you haven't tried to catch
A taxi in the rain

And you can wait for a bus
Half an hour or more
'Cause they like to travel
In gangs of four

Your folks come to town
You want to take in a show
Hey, you should have bought your tickets
A year ago

Seeing foreign films
Is a hobby of mine
But now you pay a fortune
To stand in line
To get in a theatre
That seats twenty-nine
And listen to Vivaldi
One More Time!

Well, the time has come
To say au revoir
I promised I'd move
My sister's car

My end
So to speak
Begins with an interlocking theme
In Violins

Sounds pretty good
But a little bare
Let's get
The Violas in there

Now Cellos and Basses
In you go
It's time to add
The continuo

Well, that's about it
That's how it ends
But remember this
My provincial friends
You may think you're knowledgeable
But you're not
In fact
You don't know
Diddly-squat
So don't go judging
Carelessly
If you lived here
You'd be just like me
I got no shame
But I got my pride
I'm just tryin' to get along
On the
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!
Upper Upper Upper
West Side!