L. V. Cook Information Page

L. V. Cook - Singer/Songwriter

"reaching, dreaming, where beggars believe, we take our chances and we say our prayers..."

CD now available

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Below, read the L. V. Cook Bio, and read the lyrics and comments for each song:

The Official Biography

L. V. Cook (a.k.a. "Vic Cook") is an award-winning singer/songwriter based in the Washington D. C. area. His style is diverse, covering acoustic folk to light rock, all with a distinctive blues and alternative country/bluegrass flavor that reflects his Southern roots. Vic began his musical pursuits after college as a bass player in various ensembles in Athens, GA, where he lived for many years. In 1997, he decided to begin playing as a solo acoustic folk act in the Athens and Atlanta areas, including performances at the venerable Eddie's Attic in Decatur, GA. When Vic later moved to Washington, he took a hiatus from performing to self-produce his debut CD, "Granite in the Mirror," which was released in 2003. His song "Family Reunion" from that CD was the Gold Winner for the Folk Category of the 2003 Mid-Atlantic Song Contest, and was selected as Open Mic feature song by National Public Radio in October 2006. Vic performs in the Washington area, juggling his passion for songwriting, recording and music production with his "day gig" as a Microbiologist for the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Vic is a member of the Songwriter's Association of Washington and the Washington Area Music Association.

Lyrics and notes from the debut CD "Granite in the Mirror"

MONUMENT- This is a song about facing up to bad habits. Lavon Smith, a great singer-songwriter, guitarist and friend in Athens, GA, plays the acoustic guitar solo to finish the song. I originally intended to fade his long solo, but I decided to keep all of it, including his sigh of relief at the end.

"One time too many I sipped from your cup, one time too many until it swallowed me up, one time too many I drew from that well, one time too many I slipped and I fell- one time too many I gambled it all, one time too many I stood up to fall, one time too many I pushed to the red, one time too many I danced until I bled- once is too many, twice is too few, it adds up to zero when I've counted on you, I hang my armor and I wear it alone, I'm granite in my mirror like a monument, like a stone."

FEATHER- This is the official love song for this project. After our parakeet, Betty, passed away, I decided to immortalize her by using a recording of her to introduce the song.

"Baby look into me, follow the wire to my soul, flip all my switches until you've taken control, I stand delivered, my heart on my sleeve, I'm reaching, I'm dreaming where beggars believe, we take our chances and we say our prayers- breath by breath you blow me down, I wander this moment forever, blow by blow you knock me down with a feather- Baby look into me right through my armor and lock, it's such a shock to see what I've let out of that box, pictures and places I've long left behind, the old bones and baggage, they crumble in time, we take our chances and we say our prayers- Baby let's take the sky, hop on, we've got to try, let's find our place with the birds, Baby, let's take the chance, let our feet learn to dance, let our wings carry our words- Baby look into me follow the wire to my soul, flip all my switches until you've taken control, let's light a candle and blow out the past, let's dance to that flicker and fly while it lasts, let's take our chances and let's say our prayers."

LOST LOVE- This song was written in the month following the 9/11 attack and is my contribution to the large body of works inspired by that devastating event. I used the perspective of a woman who lost her husband in the attack, later re-married, and is now looking back on what she lost and gained.

"She opens up the velvet box to let the light climb out, a diamond ring's her call from days gone by, she slips it on her fingertip although it shouldn't fit, still there's something pushing her to try, is it letting go or maybe just pretending? is her love lost dead or never ending?- it's just lost love and it doesn't keep her prisoner, it's just lost love and it doesn't break a bone, it's harder than a diamond and it's crystal clear as day, she'll cuddle with that sparkle and put it back away- it was the perfect autumn day when everything came down and left a mangled ruin of her life, picking up the pieces that didn't seem to fit she wanted to be someone else's wife, then Jimmy came along and said "let's marry, I can ease that pain that you must carry"- Jimmy's been a solid man, he's helped her through the years, helped her put that nightmare back to sleep, still September lingers, it creeps into her bed like a haunting ghost she can't afford to keep, Jimmy's been her diamond in the rough, Jimmy's sparkle is more than just enough.

FAMILY REUNION- I had trouble singing the original melody for the verses, so I finally quit trying and talked through them. Sometimes it is the limitations that make something work. Alex Mitchell provides fiddle and mandolin to give this song a Celtic feel. This song was the Gold Winner in the 2003 Mid-Atlantic Song Contest.

"Ben packs his bags, his luggage lifts light, he slips down the walk under cover of night, his restlessness calls to the ticking of clocks, his sirens sing sweet from the rocks- Mother Earth says she's plenty to offer, Father Time says you go for it now, it's Earth, Time and Ben and they don't need a friend, his family's together again- Ben wants no nest in his cradle of sky, the earth can feel cold but he's not one to cry, walls make a cage, they can't hold him in, he's bound to be nowhere he's been- Ben calls it peace with pieces of pain as he reconciles big eyes and his brain, he howls at the moon but sometimes he prays he'll find a home on the way."

GIVEN ALL THE GIVING- Yeah, I have to admit this song is about love gone bad...but I like the edge.

"I was burning like a candle when you blew me off my seat, I was dancing in your shadow, I must have lost my feet, now I see right through you, right to your other side, I see I'm in for trouble, I got no place left to hide- you say love's a game of give and take, I can't take what you've taken away, I'd give a little more but you didn't leave a lot, I've given all the giving that I've got- I once had a lot to offer, you once had a lot to steal, the heart can take a beating, but that doesn't mean I will, I've heard the time bomb ticking, it's left me wide awake, I'm gonna leave it where I found it, there's a principle at stake- what it is that's missing's kind of hard to quantify, it's a suitcase full of empty on a lost road in the sky, it struck me kind of funny, right between my eyes, the love I thought forever only candy-coated lies- I'm blowing out the candle, I'm standing on my feet, I'm dancing in the daylight, I got a different drummer's beat, when you hear the time bomb ticking, and it's left you wide awake, you've got to leave it where you found it, there's a principle at stake."

A SOLDIER AND A SALESMAN- Although this song is not about anyone in particular, it was written in the mid-1990s when spousal abuse was a hot topic in the media. Alex Mitchell provides the fiddling.

"Bobby's charging up the walk, he's knocking on your door, telling you that things are not the way they were before, he's begging for forgiveness as he's selling you the change like some broken record, so familiar and so strange, he says he didn't mean it, he's really not that bad, just think of all the good times that you surely must have had, how can you resist him and his painful puppy stare, love was never meant to be that simple or that fair- he's an angel, he's a demon, he's a falcon, he's a helpless dove, he's a soldier, he's a salesman and he's swinging deals on the battlefields of love- he's kind of quick to anger and he didn't mean to yell, he's sorry that he hit you and you had to say you fell, it's like it never happened if you can believe a crying clown magician with a bouquet up his sleeve, Bobby's got a sales pitch, a foot inside the door, he seeks peace among the pieces that he's scattered on the floor, you can't make him happy, beware if he gets in, those boys that play with matches are bound to burn again."

SCENE OF THE CRIME- I originally wrote this as a country song in the 1980s. I tuned my Danelectro 12-string to open E; this George Thorogood-inspired version emerged.

"Your Honor, hear my case, I'm just a victim of a pretty face, it left a memory that I can't erase, Lord knows I've tried, Your Honor, I took a chance when I asked her if she'd like to dance, now I'm a victim of her circumstance and sometimes I find- I'm at the scene of the crime, I can still feel her fingerprints, Lord knows if I had more sense I'd steal the kisses and run, I'm at the scene of the crime, I can still smell those smoking guns, I've never had more fun, Your Honor, she's the one- Your Honor, hear my plea, my baby's guilty in the first degree, picked my lock and broke right into me, then she got away, Your Honor, there is evidence she stole my heart and all my common sense, maybe I'm just a little dense but sometimes I find I'm at the scene of the crime...if it would please the court I've got to testify, my baby's guilty, got no alibi, she torched my soul, she trespassed my mind, the way she loved me, she robbed me blind."

HEADLIGHTS- This is an older song as well. Lavon contributed the guitar solos.

"We're free spirits running, chasing a white-dotted line from here to forever, I can't complain, some say we're crazy, some say we're off the track, wherever we're going there's no turning back- we're headlights heading up the highway, looks like things are going our way, they say love is just a freeway, what else can we do? we're headlights making our direction down these freeways of affection, we're lost lights praying for connection, what else can we do?- we're reckless and running, chasing the lines of our lives, we're daredevil beggars but I can't complain, some say we're foolish lifting our wings to the wind, wherever we're going's got to beat where we've been."

WARM- Neurotic isolation. Alex (not Nero) plays the fiddle.

"Joan's on an island, locked inside her home, likes to keep her distance, she likes to live alone, you can float your bottle, boys, your message and a kiss, hey guys, don't you be surprised, you'll more than likely miss- Joanie wants to see the walls without the windows, Joanie wants to see no roses in her thorns, Nero tunes his fiddle, no one's home to warn, Joanie's Rome is burning down and Joan just thinks she's warm- Joan's in a prison, locked inside her soul, rattling the emptiness she grips so hard to get a hold, you can see it in her, that burning in her eyes, she's swallowed by a tidal wave and belly up to dry-Joanie wants to see the missing and the empty, Joanie wants to see no rainbow in her storm, Nero tunes his fiddle, no one's home to warn, Joanie's Rome is burning down and she just thinks she's warm- Joan's on a river, floating off to sea, thinking of the way things are and how they ought to be, afraid of every open door, afraid of sinking down, matches made in heaven have burned her to the ground."

SO LITTLE SLEEP- A song about guilt. For this song, less production was more.

"Tuck in your shirt tail and push on your comb, tie on your sneakers and point them toward home, zip up your trousers and stiffen your lip, manhandle your conscience, boy get a grip- you're the wolf in the woolen disguise, the little boy with the sheets to his eyes, a little man with a big bag of lies, so many secrets to keep and so little sleep- turn down the thinking and turn up the charm, just maybe suspicion will melt in your arms, button your armor and dress up your wounds, that fool in the mirror, you'd better bury him soon- fire up the engine and press on the gas, you're pushing the red line and you pray it will pass, you're running from something your speed can't erase, the eyes of that liar at home in your face.'

SICK OF THE CURE- This bluegrassy version of the song was the keeper for this project.

"He walks the sidewalks and he walks the floor, he walks in circles where he's been before, he fights his battles like he's lost the war but finds no honor in defeat, he keeps her folded in his photo book, sometimes he's got to take another look, when he's fishing he's got to bite that hook, he's got to put that book away- they say time heals but it's a lonely pill, it breaks your fever with its bitter chill, he sips her echo and he gets his fill, it's bad medicine for sure, he's sick of the cure- clouds roll in and he wears his shades, no rosy tint's gonna foul this mess he's made, he'd call her bluff but his cards are played, there was nothing left to hold them- her picture buried in his bedroom drawer knocks in darkness as he paces the floor, this empty cup has got to fill him more, it's a bitter pill for sure, he's so sick of the cure- they say a man has got to hold his ground, he's got to swim or sink, if she looks back he's got to stare her down, he's got to pray for her to blink- a little voice tells him he must move on, for things like this you just got to get beyond, so he sits and prays it won't take long while he's counting every second."

CAESAR'S DEAD- I have never been that fond of being the center of attention. This song alludes to a time prior to my first solo performance at an open mike show. While I had left my guitar in the car trunk (i.e., the tastefully cowardly thing to do), another player signed up and bailed just prior to his turn. I decided that he and I deserved a song about stage fright. Matthew Michael plays the electric guitar.

"I was primed and ready, I tuned my six-string gun, I signed up for three songs like some kind of chosen one, but that spotlight faded into shadows of my doubt, I was naked, sweating crazy, looking for the fast way out- where's the door? I've got to get out of here, I lost my appetite when I fed my fear, I'm whipped and wilted, I'm running for my health, Caesar's dead and I don't feel so good myself- I came to conquer, I came to play, I came to stand and fight it, maybe blow that crowd away, I was kind of like a Caesar, so poised for my attack, my confidence behind me, I put my knife in my own back- where's the door? I'm making a run for it, all the sudden I can't find the fun in it, I'm beat and broken and I'm running for my health, Caesar's dead and I don't feel so good myself- I would have, I could have, I might have, I should have but I didn't- Maybe there's a moral here, some lesson to be learned about how to set the world ablaze and how to keep from feeling burned, perhaps if I'd just done it maybe I would have found why success can hang so heavy on the almost nearly glory bound."

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