Cody Weathers

Music so hip you'll need a bigger belt


ROQUE: How About A Beating? (live, 1992)






$10 for CD, available by special order

The Songs

Too Much/As Rome Burns/Do It/Perfect/Something Out/Jozo/I Want You Now/October Air/Who Am I?/Velvet Woman/Skulls of Angels/Sleep/Winter Heat/Running Away/Gem/Daddy/Tell Me/Don't Slam That Door(extended)/Fire & Ice

all songs (c)1992, Cody Weathers, all rights reserved except Jozo by Walsh/Weathers and Do It by Speranza/Weathers (c)respectively. No stealing the worthless material, OK?

Additional MP3 Singles:

Don't Hate the Players:

(L-R, above)

John Fried: bass

John Speranza: guitar

Neil MacPherson: keyboard 

Nick Walsh: lead guitar

Cody Weathers: lead vocals, percussion, add'l guitar



Matt Preheim: additional keyboard



  • None posted


    Liner Notes


    Notes on the 2000 CD re-release of How About A Beating?:

    Responding to frequent shouted suggestions from the audience that “someone should unplug you f***ing guys,” ROQUE decided in 1991 & 92 to explore a more acoustic live style. This dichotomy between the band’s live and recorded sounds only served to delight and enlighten their fan base. Fans of the mellow live shows were surprised and rockified by the hard rock albums they unwittingly purchased from the folksy hemp-friendly gig tables, and fans of the electric albums got out their lighters and their feminine sides at the unanticipatedly gentle acoustic live shows. “From then on,” says frontman Cody Weathers, “that was part of our confusing legacy.” HAAB documents these early “safety gigs” as the band got into a whole new dangerous groove --a groove that ultimately proved too profound for some members to handle. The summer of ‘92 found the band signing an “ill-advised” 20-album contract extension that called for a 1:1 ratio of live albums to studio albums and also found the band breaking up with Weathers remaining liable for the 10+10 albums. The band’s dissolution invariably contributed to the piss-poor sales of HAAB, and future incarnations of the band struggled to find the solution in a dangerous tidal battle between “board direct” recording and “putting a boom box on a stranger’s table and seeing what we get.” Although these later albums have their ups and downs, I know I’ll never forget the first time I listened to this album and came to understand that there was a whole different world out there. A world of smoky coffeeshops and acoustic guitars and magic little songs. Oh, screw it. I’m never going to be able to fill this panel. I’m so very tired of listening to this album and searching for inspiration. Done writing.




    Too Much: CH: I would love to love you, I would kill to steal you, I would steal to touch you, I want too much. I must control my rage again, but still it coaxes, "give in." I feel so hard, so cold. I wish I had your hand to hold. Now, as I wander through my mind, I cannot face what I might find. I feel you slipping far away. Will this dog ever have his day? CH The swingset clatters in the wind. The starlight shines on me so thin. The midnight field, my toes are bare. I smell you in the misty air. I will not blame you for tonight. You could not see him in that light. And what you shared you lost to him. I will not damn you for this sin. CH. I must disguise myself again, so you can't see how hard it's been. I feel so empty and misplaced --my search for substance yielding space. I see your eyes in yellow skies, the sunset thinks you are unwise. Then all at once, you slip away. My lunge to grab you is too late.


    As Rome Burns: Somewhere in the shades of grey is the truth that truth is no commodity today. Somewhere in the harvest moon is a patch of light on adobe ruins --cold, cold, cold Anasazi graves. Chorus: As Rome burns, politicians feeding the fire. As Rome burns, throw me cold on the suicide pyre. As Rome burns, fiddle on, lest the liars inquire. As Rome burns, so we expire. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I know we're dying slowly. Slow, slow march to the grave. Isn't it magical the monsters we can be? If you mix us right, we make anything. Isn't it illogical the way we treat today? Like it's only time. It's only blood. Chorus. Quarter me with water, crucify with trees. Throw my body to the ocean with the help of angry breeze. Gain my trust to lie to me, you four-year cycle dogs. This suicide of nations is just like falling off a log.


    Do It: Buying on impulse some roses and courage then standing and wilting --I don't really know you. planning, rejecting, then planning all over --your dress in a heap on the floor in my mind. I'm trying to focus on noble intentions, but tensions are mounting --I don't really know you. Trying to recall what I said in the shower, rehearsed in the steam with the soap in my eyes. Chorus: Do it, f***ing do it, rejection means you'll only have to do it again. Do it, f***ing do it, acceptance means you'll never have to do it again. I don't understand you, I don't understand me. Do you understand you? This doesn't look good. Pacing and cursing, observing your habits, observing your boyfriend --this doesn't look good. Playing with curtains, you're just like a kitten, but kittens can scratch you and sometimes draw blood. Lying awake with a pain in my stomach, is this indigestion or am I in love?


    Perfect: You are such a vixen, such a four-alarm fire. Your words can be twisted --such a competent liar. You dance with me all night, but you don't ever tire. You go for what you want and get your heart's desire. Pre-CH: I've known a lot of girls who don't even compare. I'm captured in your glance and blinded by your stare. CH: Perfect. You're so perfect for me. Perfect. I'm sure you must agree that we are a sensation --one-hundred degrees. Perfect. You're so perfect for me. Keep me on my toes, and I'll never let you down. Greet me with a smile --I don't want to see you frown. And I will never give you the same old runaround. I want our love to last --no more lost and found. Pre-CH CH. Doing what I want, and what I want's a kiss. Whatever turns you on, well let me pull your switch. How can you have dreams if you don't ever wish? I'm in the perfect stream to catch the perfect fish.


    Something Out: If I could have the wisdom to know when my mouth runs away.... I'd be a better man to fight your pain if I knew what I should say. If I could have the courage to let a spark grow into flame, I'd be a warmer man beneath the stars by a fire that lasts the rain. CH: Haunt me, hook me, overlook me, throw my heart a bone. I miss you when you're gone, so why can't we work something out. If I could have the tick-tocks to work the knots out of this cord, I'd be a better man who knew you well, but time I can't afford. I must confess impatience has cost me more than I could pay. Were I a better man, I'd read your mind, but I fear I've lost the way. CH. Br: Haunt me, hook me, overlook me, throw my heart a bone. How much time is there, anyway? How much time?


    Jozo: What my Jozo wants is what my Jozo gets. Let love rule you and you'll never hear the end. When I touch her, she's off in some other world. Jozo, Jozo, you are quite a crazy girl. Pretty Jozo steals my heart away again. Chorus: Pretty Jozo, sexy Jozo, pretty Jozo steals my heart, but it's no crime. Pretty Jozo, sexy Jozo, pretty Jozo, won't you say you will be mine. What my Jozo is is what my Jozo feels. Let love rule you, and you'll never know what's real. When I kiss her, she's off in some other world. Jozo, Jozo, you are quite a crazy girl.


    I Want You Now: Going for a walk, I'll try to sort what's in my mind. You always say you want to talk but never have the time. You always want to call me, but you've never got a dime. You're making me look guilty when there really is no crime. I try to make ammendments, but I end up all alone. I try to read between the lines but nobody's home. Hey you, listen to me. Talking to you, can't you see that I'm in love and can't shake free. Stuck on you, so you're stuck with me. Desperation strikes a glancing blow, car won't start and it's ten below, but here you are, so whaddya know. How much time before you go? Chorus: I want you now, here with me. I want you now --set me free. I want you now, on my knees. I want you now, begging please. Hey, baby, what do you need? I can give you a ride --I aim to please. When you smile, that's enough for me, so how's life been for you this week? Count on me when things get rough, help me out when my life's tough. So here you are with your pretty, pretty eyes, nothing around but the open skies. Chorus. Pretty, pretty doll with the black dress on, talk with me before you're gone. Pretty, pretty queen, take this pawn --talk to me before the dawn. Lost this one, I'll try again --I won't give in until I win. But here you are, not a thing to wear. Come with me, 'cause I don't care.


    October Air: When you were young, oh so young, you had your dreams but now you've got to live your life however you can make it work, and I can't wash away your problems with a single potion. And I can't take you where you've never been before. CH: Let it go like the autumn leaves as they fall to Earth in October air. In the spring, you will grow new leaves that will feed you 'til the cold October air. Stabbed in the back, but you still persist. Do you even know what the conquest is when you have wasted all your options on frivolities? If I can't make you see the light, guess you'll have to say goodnight because life doesn't give a damn if you don't give a damn about yourself. CH. When life deals the cards, you can't always hold the aces. Sympathy made me weak to a hundred falsehood faces. I'll never let the day come when I let jealousy tear me apart because nothing ruins friendships more than jealous, broken hearts. CH. Sometimes you must let go to hold on to your sanity. Sometimes you have to take a brand new direction. You've got to give up what destroys you and start again. I cannot help you when you're bringing me down.


    Who Am I?: Staring out the window, looking at the snow falling like a rainbow to the ground below. Seeing apprehension in your tender eyes --finding no direction, wasted time flies by. Throwing caution to the wind, throwing roses at your feet as I struggle towards your hand, dreaming of your lips so sweet. CH: Who am I to be falling in love? I need you so much and can't get enough of tender eyes, discretion advised, entangled emotions, passionate cries. Heat of day and dark of night, the sirens flashing sounds. Basking in the neon lights, the jungleland surrounds. Tumbling inferno, children trapped inside. Where did all our hope go, taking this in stride? Ice and chiva, PCP disguised as paradise. Parasites, why can't they see the colonies of lice? Crack and AIDS and gun control, politicians make no moves --elections are the game here: television lets us choose. A thousand points of light stroll by, sucking on a joint, and if I could not hold you here, then what would be the point?


    Velvet Woman: Velvet woman at the table, sipping coffee, sipping slowly --she's got something on her mind. I am staring from the corner --she can't see me. I am thinking, "what could ever make her mine?" She is thinking about the man who left her hanging. She's so proud, but she is fragile in the wind. What she needs is some exciting kind of action --she's been flattened, now she must get up agian. CH: You had your dreams, and now you hold them in your hands --never let them go. All her life, she's been expecting someone special. All her life, she's wanted something just for her. It's so awful how you can get disappointed --one bad vision and your life is in a blur. She expected love was smooth and love was easy. She was wrong, and now she's questioning herself. Disappointment somehow makes it seem so sleazy, but the voice of reason seems to point to someone else. CH. Velvet woman finally smiling, finally smiling --sweet as honey, she is something to behold. Through the clouds the sun is shining, finally shining. Velvet woman, like the phoenix, liquid gold.


    Skulls of Angels: Why do I hurt the things I love? Why do I treat you in this way? Why am I jealous of the things I cannot change? What can I do to make you stay? Chorus: Sheltered by the shadow of the angel's wings, I saw the stone I cast at her, saw it strike her --shelter no more. I see you turn and walk away. I really know not what I've done. Where there was fire now is little more than dust. I did not see what I'd begun. Chorus. I do not see you with my open eyes, I only see you when you're not there. You're like a ghost within my fever dreams --the skulls of angels seen so clear. I'm looking down into the clearest pool, and looking up, I say myself. Your heart is full of blood, and blood is full of pain. I wish you were not somewhere else. I try to shake myself, but mock myself instead. The waves that melt me melt away. I try to look again, but the light is fading fast. Apologies some other day. Set me free from the weight upon my head. Set me free, let me live again instead. Why do I speak to you again? What can I do to make you see that there is magic if you trust in me again? What can I do to make you see? Chorus.


    Sleep: Put down reality, put down identity. Pick up the fantasy, sleep. Walk down the secret path, slow down --don't run so fast. Reach out and hold my hand, please. Drink from the hidden stream, don't be afraid to dream. Trust me --I'm what I seem, sleep. Look through the broken glass. Dead blood, it dries so fast. Fall now and hear the last scream. Chorus: When you have nowhere left to turn, then turn to me. When you feel ice within your veins, I'll set you free. When you have no more strength to run, I will protect you. Sleep. Put down resistance, put down persistence. Turn to submission, sleep. Change what you cannot change, all else must stay the same. realize internal flame, dream. See through your blinded eyes, let go --be hypnotized. Broken hope, now realized, sleep. I hold the magic key. Come now, and carry me. Look deep and you will see your mind. Chorus.


    Winter Heat: If you were alone and needed someone, I would dig my grave, I would wait for you. If only I knew that in the end, you'd be by my side, I would wait for you. No matter how cold the icy ground, I would take your pain just to be with you. Chorus: I see the shadows of the winter heat dissolving in your eyes. If you were afraid that I would hurt you, I would break my hands just to reach for you. If only to feel your silken touch on my crooked hands, on my crooked face. If I could deserve a tender kiss, I would dig my grave, I would wait for you. Chorus. If I could convince your winter lips that I'm not the beast that you think of me, I would be happy just to wait if I knew that you would be there for me. I'll leave you my darling. I'll leave you my dear.


    Running Away: Once a man set out to dream; like a sculptor, he would cut and labor the living stone, but he's still not done. He pictured wings --pictured and felt them With his eyes, he knew the dangers. Other men had gone there long before. Chorus: Here I am once again, dreaming a dream with your voice at the end. All I hope or pretend is you're still not running away. Then he turned, looking for angels, facing the forms of succubi Whose hideous screams he'd never heard before. Down the path, roses and violets, smelling of lilacs, farmgirls and tyrants, and haystack attractions under dewy moon. Chorus. Br: Your beautiful angry eyes cover me with, smother me with questions. I'm a dirty young man, dirty little boy, clay in your hands, your perpetual toy, praise in your eyes, pain in your cries, dirty young man --people can't stand me. On the road, off in the distance, rising smoke from the tribal fires of the very angels he was searching for. In his mind, under the ocean, kisses of mermaids licking his salt lips --ways of life he'd never dreamt before.


    Gem: Emily has smiling eyes, lips that kiss the wind to its surprise. Hold her near and feel her shiver --fright and yet delight. In her arms, nothing's the matter; she makes it all alright. Dance a little dance for me, spin around and let me see. I can't make the sun rise -- it's too big for me-- but I can make her mind's eye open up and see. Chorus: Love is near, dry your tears. Let me see your face again. Emily, you are a gem, shining in the sun for all the world to see. Melodies sung with her smile, special harmonies --I'd sit and hum a while. Like a fawn, she is so still standing in the trees. Please, oh please, say you will bring me to my knees. Scattered ashes on the ground, put them back together in her eyes so brown. Golden hair twirled 'round her finger --such a pretty girl. Come on in a little closer, step into my world.


    Daddy: When Daddy gets home, I think he's been drinking. that means he don't know just what he's thinking. I know that he loves me, I know that he cares, but when I hear those creaking stairs, I know I'll be blue, I'll be black and blue. When crying is done, I'm empty inside. I know I can't run, I know I can't hide. 'Cause this is my house --it's daddy's house, too. But when I hear those creaking stairs, I know I'll be blue, I'll be black and blue. Mommy is gone, she left in a hurry. Now I need someone to take all my worries. I know that he cares. I know I do too. But when I hear those creaking stairs, I know I'll be blue, I'll be black and blue. Daddy, Daddy do you love me? Please tell me you do. Daddy, daddy do you love me? 'Cause I love you even though I'm black and blue.


    Tell Me: Should've learned my lesson not to fall in love with angels 'cause they've got wings and always fly so far away. Tongue-tied and all choked-up, you just cannot persuade them: there's nothing in this world to make an angel stay. CH: Tell me anything -- just say so and I'll leave you alone. Everyone else has someone to hold, someone to laugh with --or so I'm told. But not me: I have polite refusals on the telephone. Here I am all alone, just me and my guitar. We've seen some pretty rough times: this is just one more. CH. I know you like the sad songs with the chords that pull your heart. I wrote you one last sad song since we'll always be apart. I should've known that someday I'd make a brand new start, but no one could've told me that it would be so hard. I can try all I want, I can cry for a day, but nothing will work because angels don't stay. CH.

    Don't Slam That Door: Dearest stranger, I so hate to be ignored. Avoid me now and you avoid me forever more. Is there no light in here? Why must it be so dark? Are you so frigid within your heart of hearts? Chorus: Don't slam that door on me or I will kill your memory. I'll poison it slowly. Claw at my heart forever. So don't slam that door on me --open this f***ing door! Meuma Mona Lisa, why do you smile at me that way. Is there some magic in your mischief for today? I don't understand it, but I try to play along, but even all my friendly words are nothing short of wrong. ChorusII: Don't slam that door on me or I will kill your memory. I'll poison it slowly. Cross my heart if you hope to die. So don't slam that door on me --open this f***ing door! Dearest little liar, why have you been so cruel? It's hard to see me innocent; it's hard to be a fool. When you stand behind me, do you want to help or shove me? And when I bare my soul to you, will you ridicule or love me? CH II. Dearest judge and jury, I so hate to be on trial, but I will keep my patience for just a little while. Your soft eyes try to kill me every time I look at you. I guess I should abandon ship, but I've got nothing better to do.

    Fire and Ice: I am burning up with indecision: should I reach for stars or stay down here on Earth? I am so happy now just to chase the moon, believing I could catch it if I ran a little faster. Would I be happier just to plant a seed --to watch it grow or wither in my hands? And then which seed to plant --there are so many? Would they grow in the pale light of the moon? She has kissed me soft, full of frivolity, the moon it keeps on shining, so far away, but never closer. It takes a single instant --one crazy glint of hope-- to turn the tables 'round and end up on the moon. But the seeds that beckon me so deep within the Earth.... So soon the harvest comes, and so the harvest moon. Chorus: Fire and ice, the flames that freeze, the moon sifts down through the ring of trees. A storm drifts in on a gentle breeze. I find, in the end, I can just ask please. I've no control over birds or bees. I look to see the emperor, but I only see his clothes. He can only hide behind them in the face of mighty foes. I meet a fresh new face, she makes me laugh to think. Her visage drifts inside my mind, her silent sighs serve to remind that hearts always seem to break --stupid mistakes we make. Sound asleep beside the lake --on top of that, it's snowing. She smiles to me always when I pass her walking by. I don't know what I'll do about her, but I've got some things to try. Darling, don't be cruel because you know that I am shy. And if you break my heart, then you'll know even big boys cry. But nothing seems to matter in the eyes of mother nature, and if these seeds won't sprout, I'll have to starve until the spring. Chorus. Am I stranded in your wasteland, or have I lost the way? Show me how to get inside your heart --it's cold and dark out here. Is it a key I need? Then it's a key I'll find. Leave some cookies for Santa Claus and something for the reindeer too. Do not forget me when I'm helpless --I need you here. Just give me one more kiss and I'll be on my way.

    Listening Log:

    Fried came up with that title, as well as Less Yackin', More Snackin'.  Our first live album, gathered at a time when our live show was shifting radically from full band hard rock shows to acoustic gigs, often with just Speranza and myself.  These songs are typically either pulled direct off the Paris or Mercury board by John Steideman (the clean, nice-sounding ones) or else recorded on a tape recorder sitting on a table (the grittier ones).  Taken individually, there are some nice songs here, but the real problem with this album, and the reason I don't much listen to it, is that we were still finding our sea legs acoustically, and these songs aren't the best live stuff (i.e. full band shows) that we were doing at the time.  Factoid from John Fried: You can use the "next track" methodology to distill all of the Flip Nasty live albums into a single 25-minute CD.  ;-)


    Too Much: That's John Steideman introducing us at Paris on the Platte.  As mentioned earlier, our signature "acoustic" sound at the time was actually a clean Fender Strat beefed up with either chorus or flange, a tone of Speranza's invention.  Speranza was very good at getting good guitar sounds throughout the entire time we played together.  This version of the song is a snapshot of the very early stages of its performance evolution --sticking pretty closely to the recorded version.  Since we played this song in almost every set we did, it eventually changed quite a bit.  Boy, I forgot that crowds actually occasionally dug us.


    As Rome Burns: Nice subdued version.  One thing I immediately notice in listening to this album, is how I still hadn't really developed my vocal chops for acoustic songs.  I'm holding back way too much.  Some of that was, admittedly, nervousness --it was a big adjustment for me to stand up and sing with no drums.  Shouldn't have been, but was.


    Do It: This song was a lot of fun.  There's Speranza counter-heckling some lady who was snickering at us "Hey, I wrote this!"  I needed to thank every tip.  This eventually got re-recorded as a Leaky Joe song on the Tongue Meets Eyeball sampler.  This is one of the first songs where I really tried my now-infamous .  That's Glenn Levy at the end.  That's Fried asking if we skipped "Perfect."  What a hi-llarious segue to....


    Perfect: I really have a soft spot for songs that work in different arrangements, and I was surprised how well the stripped-down arrangement worked here.


    Something Out: Very representative of the more laid-back standard acoustic arrangement of this song.  Speranza is an extremely flexible guitarist, and a very selfless player.  His ability to adapt and play new arrangements of these songs where he provides fuller chords and more rhythm was critical to pulling off the transition to acoustic gigs.


    Jozo: Totally different arrangement, mostly reworked by Speranza.  Nice ideas.


    I Want You Now: This is more representative of how we had been gigging up until this point.  This was recorded with the full band (Less Yackin' lineup) upstairs at the Mercury.  I like how I have to tell people to "take it!"  Was that first solo Speranza?  Man, I loved playing in this band.  You can hear my sticks hit the floor because everybody wants a souvenir from a ROQUE show.


    October Air: Fried, Speranza, and myself (covering a little extra guitar --the lead at the top, and the rhythm under Speranza's solo).


    Who Am I?: Fried, Speranza, and me again.  Nice feel.  This is almost convincing me to re-record this.  I swear "chiva" is slang for heroin, but Annie Stamper, my most drug-savvy friend, claims that this is total BS.


    Velvet Woman: I didn't own a djembe or have any inkling about incorporating that into these acoustic shows, so I guess tamborine was the best drum surrogate I was prepared to offer up.  Incorporating djembe was definitely a real turning point in these gigs for me.  Nice variation in the vocal, something I didn't do then as much as I do now.  I guess we really got to that guy!


    Skulls of Angels: I probably shouldn't have included this on the album.  I like the song, but this version is shaky.  Well, maybe it's not so bad, but I'm definitely hearing a better version in my head.


    Sleep: I have no idea why I nicknamed Neil "The Glove."  I'm sure he hated it.  Sorry, Neil, I just have mental imbalances that can't be corrected or medicated.  Nice version, but the recording is terrible.


    Winter Heat: Apparently, I've decided after a strong start of board-direct recordings to now wade through a stretch of sucky boom-box recordings.  This version is pretty good, it might even transcend the terrible recording.  Scratch that, it might transcend international injustice!  At the time, this song meant a lot to me personally.  I always liked singing it, and I think you can hear the feeling in my voice.  I had an epiphany of sorts several years later that if I did nothing else as a singer on a particular song, I needed to express this kind of intensity.  Subsequently, my live recordings were markedly better.  That quiet intensity is really the cornerstone to playing intimate acoustic shows (in my opinion).


    Running Away: There's Speranza running through those wacky chords like it's nothing.  Contrast this vocal with the last and you can see how my philosophy at the moment was to simply sing the song with good tone.  I wasn't really considering the full spectrum of my performance responsibilities.


    Gem: Something about this works for me.  I can hear myself connecting to the sound of my voice better than in other songs.


    Daddy: Needs something more.  Of course, now, I wouldn't hesitate to scat the crap out of this :)


    Tell Me: I like this song.  The version could use more from me.


    Don't Slam That Door: We added an extra verse to the song this night.  This is missing Fried in a big way.  Just doesn't sustain the energy.


    Fire & Ice: Every amp is about to meltdown.  You can't hear them over the rock and roll, but there are a number of people singing along.  My friends were very supportive, even memorizing this drivel to make me feel happy.  This was at the end of a very long gig, and unfortunately, I think you can hear it a little bit.  We're definitely flagging, and my voice is well-past shot.  Still, this was a really fun gig, and everyone is still really into it.  Oh nice little endpoint with Steideman.


    Missing from the CD re-release: Vianwidra and N'Deivi Blue Sand were non-live sequenced instrumentals originally included just to have them on an album.  I also included Eyes (now on Separate Ways) and an alterante karaoke take of Tell Me which will probably make it on to a future box set disc.