Album Credits: Her Name Comes Up: Van Duren—lead & backing vocals; Tim Horrigan—backing vocals, all instruments Midnight (Horrigan/Duren/Gregory): Van Duren—lead & backing vocals, guitar; Tim Horrigan—backing vocals, bass, keyboards, drum programming; Probyn Gregory—backing vocals, lead guitar I Just Want You: Van Duren—vocal; Tim Horrigan—all instruments We Go Hungry: Van Duren—lead vocal; Tim Horrigan—lead vocal/bridge, backing vocals, all instruments Is She Ever: Van Duren—vocals; Tim Horrigan—keyboards, percussion; Ray Sanders—fretless bass; James Lott—guitars; Harry Peel—drums Evelyn: Claire Fullerton: voice mail message; Van Duren—backing vocals, lead guitars; Tim Horrigan—lead & backing vocals, all other instruments One More Real Kiss: Van Duren—lead & backing vocals, piano; Tim Horrigan—acoustic guitar, piano, keyboards; Ray Sanders—backing vocals, bass; James Lott—backing vocals, lead guitars; Brady Spencer—drums I Don’t Have to Explain: Van Duren -vocal; Tim Horrigan—all instruments Lucky Enough (Horrigan/Duren/Silversher): Van Duren—vocal; Peter Gordon—tenor saxophone; Tim Horrigan—all other instruments Make It Up: Van Duren—vocal, electric guitar; Tim Horrigan—acoustic guitar, piano; Ray Sanders—bass; Brady Spencer—drums I Love What You Do: Van Duren—vocal, lead guitar; Tim Horrigan—all other instruments She Hates Me Now: Van Duren—vocal, electric guitar; Tim Horrigan—harmony vocal, lead guitar, acoustic guitar, organ; Ray Sanders—bass; Rob Crockett--drums Shaving With A Wooden Spoon: Van Duren—vocal, electric guitar; Tim Horrigan—piano; Ray Sanders—bass; James Lott—lead guitar; Rick Steff—organ; Rob Crockett—drums You Might Come Around: Van Duren—vocal; Tim Horrigan—piano; Ray Sanders—fretless bass; Greg Morrow—drums Laughing Out Loud: Van Duren—lead & backing vocals, electric guitar; Tim Horrigan—acoustic guitar; Ray Sanders—backing vocals, bass; James Lott—backing vocals, lead guitar; Rick Steff—keyboards; Rob Crockett—drums All songs by Tim Horrigan and Van Duren Copyright 2011 Buck Young Music, BMI and Microphone Bounce Music, BMI Except Midnight by Tim Horrigan, Van Duren, and Probyn Gregory Copyright 2011 Buck Young Music, BMI, Microphone Bounce Music, BMI, and Red Eft Music, BMI Lucky Enough by Tim Horrigan, Van Duren, and Michael Silversher Copyright 2011 Buck Young Music, BMI, Microphone Bounce Music, BMI, and Moogle Moosik, BMI Recordings Produced by Tim Horrigan with Van Duren 1990-1997 Los Angeles and Sun Studio, Memphis, TN Sun Studio engineer—James Lott Mastered by Barry Wood at the Other Room, San Clemente, CA Special thanks to Barry Wood for the cover design, too! Van says: Magic through Chemistry 101 It all began as an experiment in songwriting. Tim Horrigan and I were acquainted and fans of each other’s work, but had been out of touch for several years, as he moved to the City of Angels and I left Van’s New York Adventure and returned to my hometown, the City of Angles, Memphis. When my band, Good Question, released our first album in 1986, Tim heard about it through a NARAS voting form for the Grammy’s the following year. And no, we didn’t win. Mr. Horrigan and I began to trade cassettes of our demos and so on through the U.S. mail. I immediately was drawn to his talent and humor, but then I had never stopped listening to his demo cassette from 1979 that I got from my former Connecticut record company. In late August, 1990, I flew to L.A. for a three day writing session, which produced two finished songs. The first was a track Tim had already written music for and I simply added a melody and lyrics—“I Just Want You.” The next day, we wrote “We Go Hungry.” I was absolutely electrified. These two songs were far and away better and more adventurous than anything I had done before. And it was incredibly easy, working in Tim’s basement studio, 8-track analog with a computer interface. He played all of the music on these two, and I just wrote and sang. As I sat on that plane for the trip home, I knew something magical had just happened. There was an amazing creative chemistry between Tim and I, and these songs blew me away. How could I go back to what I had been doing in Memphis? Over the next two years, we collaborated on more songs, making more demos both in L.A. and in Memphis. I don’t think we ever talked about what we were going to do with these songs. I intended to use some of them on a new Good Question album that never got finished (although one track, “Is She Ever,” did appear on the 2nd GQ album, Chronicles, in 1992). Tim and I just wrote together because it was so inspiring, and so much fun. My smile hurt for days after working with Tim. We laughed a lot more than we worked, fueled by some cocktails and hangovers. But all of these songs came so quickly, many recorded the same day as written. Some of these recordings are not finished mixes and were transferred from cassette tapes, but the magic is everywhere. Now, two decades later, the songs are even more revelatory to me. The stories told here are mostly true, from my life of failed, wandering romanticism. But Mr. Horrigan’s input on the lyrics was great, and everyone should know that most of these songs were written sitting across from each other, laughing away (or maybe suppressing a tear). Tim Horrigan is a musical genius who deserves recognition and credit for the lion’s share of this material. I just happened to be lucky enough to work with him. And now, through magic and chemistry, we are letting you in on the fun. ---Van Duren, 2012 Tim says: I was a fan of Van Duren’s from that first needle drop on “Are You Serious?” THIS was the missing link in early 70s pop music – yes, everyone owed a profound debt to that Liverpool group that Ringo was in, but this was something else. It was an amalgam of every artist I loved filtered through the heart and seasoned by the wit (not the Donovan song) of this guy from Memphis. I don’t even know how I got that first album, but I was pursuing my songwriting and producing pretty intensely back then and contacted Van’s record company Trod Nossel in Connecticut. I paid them a visit and watched Van work on the “Mad at the Moon” medley in their studio. After that I caught a couple of his shows in Massachusetts. The first show of his I saw was in East Boston, probably in 1979. I reintroduced myself and he sang a snippet of a song of mine called “Who Does the Little Things.” Maybe I had found someone who understood me. In 1980 I moved to Los Angeles. I don’t remember how the invitations were exchanged but in 1990 Van came to Eagle Rock to see if maybe our shared loved of music might amount to anything creatively. There’s was no “project” on the horizon. We just wrote. And wrote. To tell the truth it never felt like writing; it was more like a faucet tap was turned on and these tunes just poured out. I could churn out a track pretty quickly while Van would sit with his notepad and crank out some words. Seriously --- that simple. He’d get in front of my beat-up AKG 412 mic and craft whatever melody might have been suggested by the tracks. I felt like I was the ghostwriter for someone’s memoirs. When we weren’t writing, we were drinking Mexican beer, eating Casa Bianca pizza (still there on Colorado Blvd.), and having fantasies of corralling Emitt Rhodes to work with us. I had worked a couple times with Emitt and gave him a call. Usually he hates “fan” visits, but if there’s lunch and drinks involved he’s usually game. I remember our excitement as we drove to Hawthorne. We were in the area early so we decided to drive past his house. There he was in the yard! I think he was watering his lawn or trimming a tree or something. We pretty much ducked to avoid being seen and scooted past his house, stopping at a little coffee shop to gather our nerves before meeting the guy whose music was the touchstone for much of our sensibilities. We drove back and Emitt couldn’t have been nicer. He showed us his studio and played us a couple unreleased tracks. We extended an invitation for him to come to my studio and do some writing. Someday those tapes will see the light of day. Let me just say that the world is not yet sufficiently prepared. However, the song title “She Hates Me Now” was taken from a remark Emitt made about one of his ex-wives. I know Van and Emitt really hit it off, both having borne the mantle of “mock McCartneys.” A couple years later I went to Memphis and had the honor of working with some of the best musicians (and finest people, a lot like my friends in upstate New York) I’ve ever played with. Van and I would write during the day and take our stuff into Sun studios in the evening. What you hear in this recording are pretty much first or second takes. Yes, these guys are that good. And their respect for Van was unconditional. He IS the man in Memphis. One afternoon, I think we were feeling that this whole writing/recording process was getting too easy, so we set ourselves the task of writing the worst song ever. It came pretty easily. Lots of major 7th chords and “your eyes are like stars” lyrics. Our goal was to present it to the band and see how long we could keep a straight face before letting them in on the gag. They dutifully went along with it, and we were dying! I wish we had laid it down. Over the years we have waxed a number of other songs: a monumental version of “Dances with Wolves” which told the whole story of the movie almost in real time (it was long) and a very tender version of Rod McKuen’s “Jean.” For some reason they are not included in this set. There was also an aborted attempt to record the fictional “lost” Edison Lighthouse album. I think we warmed up for that task by doing a take of “Smile a Little Smile for Me” (or was it “My Baby Loves Lovin’”?) before realizing that it might not be the coolest thing in the world to have your music labeled Edison Lighthouse-esque. These songs kept piling up. Sometimes we’d collaborate via the mail (remember the post office?). We always turned out something that pleased us. I am very proud of these songs for both their heart and humor and the unmatchable memories that went into making them with a guy who’s still doing it better than ever to this day: Van Duren. Thanks, Van, for letting me be a part of your magic.----Tim Horrigan, 2012