I've been away for far too long. It seems I can only devote myself to one creative outlet at a time and lately it's been prose. But the keyboard is there, looming.
This past week has been a blur of family, friends, and sunshine-- the best kind of blur. I was in Florida for purposes of pumpkin-pie-consumption and partying down at LK's film premiere. The premiere was a smashing success and the after party was the stuff that dreams are made of.
Pretty people and good music make for easy video, even on a four-year-old Canon Powershot. This video was made by yours truly:
[music: "postcards from italy" by beirut]
And after a week of flip flops and suntans, I came home... to this:
While you were all stuffing your faces with mashed potatoes and watching disturbingly large likenesses of cartoon characters meander down a city street, I was engaging in one of my all-time favorite activities.
That's right. Air travel.
Rest assured that good times were had by all, including-- but not limited to-- the gentleman from Minneapolis who had many, many questions about the book I was reading and who also apparently thought "Seat 27E" was secret code for "Seat 27E and also half of Seat 27F". It's cool, I enjoy scrunching against the window like this.
But hey, good news! I just found out that I won an award! And if there's one thing I like? It's awards.
It's the Artists' Choice award from MaxBumps.net and I couldn't be more excited if it was a national holiday and I had leftover pumpkin pie in the fridge.
I haven't touched a piano in over a week, though I'm in the midst of an exciting song experiment with a local musician and I'm itching to get back to the keys. It's been a crazy week, what with the election (yay) and Halloween (boo) and a million birthdays and visitors and home improvement projects in between.
But the dust is settling. Or at least it's thinking about it.
Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you today and let you know that my song Smoke Signals just hit the sixtyone homepage for the third time! The first time was six months ago, on the morning of my 26th birthday.
What was a sweet surprise for this cold November morning.
Well, it's snowing outside. It's not even Halloween and it's already snowing. I love Wisconsin, but I feel like we need to sit down and have a chat about this.
One advantage of the foul weather: more time for indoor projects! I've been working on a bunch of sweet projects lately and I want to share one of them with you today.
As back story, I'm part of a blog ring called Twenty-Something Bloggers. It's a great place to meet other bloggers, get ideas, and discover new addictions subscriptions for my RSS reader. The site regularly posts events and challenges like blog carnivals, essay contests, and Blog Swap Day. I always half-heartedly intend to participate, but life and procrastination thwart me at every turn.
The most recent of these events was Vlog Day. The word 'vlog' sounds like something you'd catch on Spring Break in Cancun, but it's actually just short for 'video log'. In other words, it's a blog post... on video! So twenty-first century! Next stop: personal jet packs and birthday cards that play Livin' la Vida Loca.
Vlog Day was last Wednesday, but as part of my ongoing theme of Personal Tardiness, I didn't finish mine until last night. It has nothing to do with music, but there is some great music in it. Andrew Bird, Le Tigre, and more!
And so, with limited further ado, I present to you... Crafts & Cooking: An Ill-Advised Vlog
The New York Times calls Crafts & Cooking: An Ill-Advised Vlog "... an engaging, heartfelt romp through one woman's neighborhood and home. A triumph of the human spirit."
The Chicago Tribune says, "Two emphatic thumbs up! The best [curtain-related] vlog we've seen this year."
Michael Cera writes (probably), "I deeply regret not responding to Laurie's repeated requests to star in her vlog. It's so much better than Juno. Also, I love her."
My mother: "What's a vlog?"
Included within: wacky scene transitions, awkward camera angles, and approximately 900 instances of me nervously fiddling with my bangs. Also? Somewhere in the fourth quarter, I become convinced that I am Michel Gondry and/or stoned out of my mind. SO ARTSY.
PART I
PART II
Watch and discover for yourself why I have neither a home decorating show, a cooking show, nor a boyfriend.
Saturday afternoon, some friends and I headed out to Madison Music Foundry for their Second Anniversary Party. Specifically, we were there to see some performances from MMF's Rock Workshop.
The Rock Workshop is an eight-week music program at Madison Music Foundry for middle- and high-school students. During the workshop, the kids form bands, learn songs, play live shows, and even record in a real studio. It's a rare and exciting opportunity for young musicians and I was excited to see what the kids were up to.
First of all, Madison Music Foundry definitely knows how to throw a party. Tasty snacks? Check. Fancy beer keg? Check. A lifetime supply of ear plugs for rock-your-socks-off volume levels? Check, check, check.
And the kids were awesome. There's something about thirteen-year-olds singing Van Halen that just warms my heart. Also, most of these kids had better hair than I do and they were definitely better at playing the drums.
One of the bands, a group tentatively calling themselves Four Pesos, even played a few original tunes. The original songs were some of my favorites of the night-- I swear one of the songs could have come from a Pernice Brothers album. You may or may not consider that a compliment, but I happen to really like that album.
I managed to snag a quick video of one of their Rock Workshop originals:
"All boys," my friend Clare observed at one point, nibbling a pretzel cracker between Ramones covers. It was true: there wasn't a girl in the whole group.
Amy Winehouse notwithstanding, rock and roll is still very much dominated by men. Which is part of why I was so enamored with the documentary Girls Rock! when I had the opportunity to catch it during this year's Wisconsin Film Festival.
Every person in the world should see this movie. It was so much more than cute.
A lot has happened since last we spoke: the weather's turned cold, the economy's made a run for the border, and I've had my heart broken no less than three separate times. I may have broken a few myself. It's been a busy month.
But I'm cutting back down to one job, so hopefully my writing will begin taking place at the piano again. Not that I have anything against napkin scribbles and singing into my voicemail at crowded bus stops, but the novelty's wearing thin.
My excuses for the past month are the usual: sick, work, out of town. In reverse order of enthusiasm. My out of town adventure was to Chicago where I visited my dear friend M. Markets, museums, and thrift stores, oh my! To top off the weekend, we rediscovered Regina Spektor in M's colorful, mid-century kitchen while making eggplant-almond enchiladas. They've got them some fancy food in the big city!
But I didn't log in to tell you about eggplant-almond enchiladas (though they were delicious). I'm writing to tell you about a very special and exciting project I've been working on with Glenn Case.
A few months ago, Glenn got some folks together and asked us to collaborate on a tribute album. I'll let Glenn explain in his own words:
Several musicians from thesixtyone have come together to pay tribute to a special guy, and a special band.
Supergrover is a very active listener on thesixtyone, and he's a very funny guy. In May of 2008, he was diagnosed with cancer. Even after the diagnosis, he has maintained a great sense of humor.
Supergrover has described For Squirrels as his "favorite band that no one has heard of." Two founding members of the band died in a car accident along with their tour manager on September 8th, 1995. They might have developed a much larger audience if tragedy hadn't struck so early in the band's career.
Every song [in this tribute] will be a cover version of a song that was originally recorded by For Squirrels.
Supergrover is an awesome dude and has been one of my biggest supporters on thesixtyone, so I was excited and honored to participate. I was assigned a song called "3" from For Squirrels' debut album Baypath Rd.
Glenn recorded the instrumental mix months ago, but due to some eighty-hour work weeks and (let's be honest here) my general love of procrastination, I didn't actually start recording vocals until last week. My recording sessions were maligned by subpar conditions (namely: four housemates, thin walls, and some seriously tenacious postnasal drip) and, as a result, my vocals on this track are all. over. the. place.
But Glenn Case? Is a champ. He saved the day with some sweet harmonies and mix-mastering mojo and the song turned out just dandy. And if you check out the second verse, you'll hear the closest thing to a belt you've ever heard from me. Thin walls be damned!
In other news, I have no other news. But stay tuned! Because I'm making clandestine plans for a Ryan Adams cover. I'm hoping to ask my housemate to supply guitars and lead vocals, though I haven't got up the nerve to ask him yet. My goal: get better at recreating existing songs, in addition to imagining new ones. Yes!
As for today, I'm working a fourteen-hour day and, by mid-morning, I've already single-handedly slaughtered an entire rain forest in the form of 3-ply facial tissue. But the leaves are changing, the sun is shining, and better health is just a cup of tea away. I can feel it.
Light sweaters and crackling air; autumn leaves and warm blankets. Winter is already whistling its sorry tune, but after a too-sticky summer, we're almost humming along.
Fall means fresh notebooks and fresh starts, clean trapper keepers and neatly labeled folders. A matching outfit laid neatly on the bedspread. There was always so much hope surrounding that ritual; it was a new year and anything could happen.
As an adult, that feeling has become a stranger: we just wake up and we are. But in those first crisp days of fall, with a warm mug of cider and palms pressed against, I can almost feel it again.
My housemate says that fall is a time of hoarding, a sort of anxious desperation. I feel that, too. These days of flip flops and tank tops and back porch barbecues, they're numbered and we're counting each one, quietly, quietly. Cold nights and heavy boots, they're peering in our windows and waiting in the cobwebs, and we're lighting every candle to shoo them out, to welcome them in.
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I have the day off today and I'm sleepy-eyed and cat-napping, waking up to fingerspell sonnets on white keys. But a sonnet never comes; just this.
you're starting fires you can't put out and the air is getting thin and when your last bridge has been burned down well that's when you've gotta swim
I'm happy with this thing in front of me, I'll tell you that.
I generally have a music-first approach to songwriting-- I start with the music and then let that inspire the lyrics. I suspect that my lyrics might suffer from using this approach, but whenever I try to write lyrics first, I can't seem to come up with music that works for them.
Today was my first day off work in far too long and it was my first chance to sit at the keyboard during piano-appropriate hours. I don't have anything finished, but I came up with three half-formed ideas... we'll see if any of them develop into full songs.
Fair warning: these aren't performances. This is just me improvising on the piano and making up lyrics as I go along. Definitely not ipod-ready!
Sorry that I've been M.I.A. this week-- I'm working eighty hours a week for the next month and in my limited time off, I'm going on a few dates (what?), trying to maximize time spent with friends who are moving (no!), and-- when possible-- catching up on much-needed sleep.
But!
Last night, I was out and about at the Dane 101 show at The Frequency. I was there to catch some shaky-cam action of my friend Clarity J. Unfortunately, the footage is currently locked away on mysterious little tapes in a camcorder that belongs to our friend Andrew. I hope to share it with you soon because she was fantastic.
Pony Parade - Clarity J
Clare's played in a successful indie pop duo for years, but is newly on her own as a singer-songwriter. It must be scary to be up on that stage all by yourself after sharing it for so long, but if the audience's response to her (at least one instance of "You're so cute!" yelled between songs) was any indication, she's going to do just fine.
I missed a few of the other acts due to a mid-show trip to the 'Dise for some grilled cheese sandwiches and irish cream (best combo ever), but I want to tell you about a few bands that really impressed me.
First: The Takebacks. This act wasn't even on the original line-up, but they absolutely blew me away. Based on their band name, I was expecting high-energy pop punk, but they were this, like, shoe-gazey explosion of electrifying goodness with hints of reggae sneaking in around the edges. It was super good.
Three minutes into their set, a friend leaned over to me-- unprovoked-- and whispered: "He's married," referring to the dreamboat lead singer. Dude, it's all about the music here! Although, I have to admit that I basically had a huge talent crush on the entire band. They're all pretty adorable.
Go see them when you can and pick up a CD. They were selling them last night for $5.
Inna Rut - The Takebacks
Speaking of crushes, another band I loved was Madison favorites The Shabelles. Oh, that keyboardist. So cute. Anyway, they were super fun and had the whole bar bopping along to their raunchy pop-a-licious goodness.
Nothing - The Shabelles
I was excited to see Pale Young Gentlemen as I've been a fan since their debut album (which I strongly recommend getting your hands on as it lived in my CD player for a full three months before I reluctantly took it out of circulation). That album is equal parts classical music recital and wild west saloon drinking game. It's swaggering and grandiose and it's effing beautiful. They remind me a bit of Regina Spektor in this piano-as-time-machine way. They're like a couple that's doing the tango, but the man has a rose between his lips at a certain jaunty angle that says, We're in on the joke.
Unfortunately, I was too tired to keep my eyes open after The Shabelles and will have to catch them live another time.
Specifically, I want to talk about the artist who calls herself September 29th. She lives in Italy and she is 25-years-old and she is amazing. Her voice is equal parts ether and steel; her lyrics a poignant blend of poetry and madness.
First, let's talk about this song that I love. It's called "Meditation Upon the Perfect Word" and it is painfully beautiful. I can't stop listening to it. You should listen to it, too.
And I understand That what's good is the Prelude To what's bad And what's sad is a path Towards woods of Joy...
Holy crap, y'all.
She also makes these incredibly rad music videos that I kind of cannot even handle. This one's called "Heavy Times" and it gets better every time I hear it.
Broken hearts, windows Widows, cigarettes, Global warming, Global warning We're getting used to living In these Heavy Times.
This next one is a cartoon. The reason for watching it should be obvious.
The song is called "Legend".
You are leaning on the window sill The Moon is pale, Looks ill. And up there, on the barefoot hill, The dogs are barking to the ghosts.
You can visit her website here and check out more of her songs on thesixtyone or on her myspace page. You can buy her album Herald of the Mornhere for $10, including shipping.
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I'm hoping to make these artist intros a regular occurrence on my blog. You know, for the ten people who read it. Hello, friends!
A friend of mine once said that writing is like having a thousand words queued up inside of your brain. The problem is that the best ones are stuck in the back, waiting their turn, which means you've got to spit out all the bad ones first.
My problem as a fiction writer is that I never want to let the bad ones have their turn. I just sit there with my mouth clamped shut, pen hovered, waiting for the good ones to leapfrog their way to the front.
They rarely do.
As a musician, I see every song as an opportunity to learn and to grow. My problem as a fiction writer is that there's no joy for me in the learning and growing; I see it only as an affirmation that I'm not already good enough. But as a musician? I don't expect to be good. When I write bad music, I'm unsurprised and unbothered and I move on. And when I write good music? I'm amazed and I'm thrilled and I move on.
The point of this post is to say that I write a lot of amazingly bad music. For every song that I post, there are a thousand deleted takes of me singing the most ridiculous lyrics, banging around on the keyboard like a six-year-old, and hitting notes that cannot and should not be heard by the human ear.
A few years ago, I drove across the country with someone I didn't know. We were two strangers trapped in a cramped Toyota Camry for five days-- both in a sort of existential place in our lives, in the midst of major life changes and still stinging from recent, painful break-ups. We spent a night in Las Vegas on the way and you couldn't choose two more perfect people to share a gaudy motel room in the desert on a rainy summer night.
This isn't a full demo, but it's a snippet of an idea I'm working on. The piano and "violins" are me, but the guitar is not. (It's just a loop.)
Tonight began with pisco sours & hand-rolled cigarettes on the front porch, but soon led, inevitably, to guitars and tambourines on sloping couches. I live in a house of musicians and usually these jam sessions find me playing an oil can with a wooden spoon or harmonizing shyly in a corner, but this time my housemates insisted that I haul my keyboard downstairs and join the fun.
I was incredibly nervous because I have essentially zero experience playing music with other people and certainly don't have experience improvising music with other people. But, guys, it was so much easier than I thought! I've been practicing piano almost every day and I'm getting much better at hearing a chord and then reproducing it on command or finding a complementary chord. I guess that really is something you can learn with practice. I'm still shy about playing music live, but I'm excited about getting better.
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I've been thinking a lot about songwriting lately. It's still very new to me, but I've spent most of my life thinking about writing in other forms.
Some of the best screenwriting advice I've ever heard is: Be mindful of your medium. Theoretically, you have a story to tell and you choose a certain medium (film, photography, poetry, etc.) because that's the best medium in which to tell your story. If you've chosen film as your medium, then you should take advantage of the aspects of film that make it unique; writing a screenplay that is purely dialogue-driven is a waste of the medium.
I think the same goes for music: every song is a story that you tell and you've chosen music as the medium for telling that story. We should make sure its the right medium and, if it is, take full advantage of what that medium has to offer. In other words: a song should be musical! It's not a poem.
These thoughts aren't entirely cohesive, but I hope it gives you something to think about. We can talk about it over pisco sours the next time I see you.
New and drastically different demo for When My Eyes Are Blue. The song still isn't finished, but as a wise man once said: "Art is never finished, only abandoned."
This song feels like a major departure for me, although I don't know if it will sound that way to you. For one thing, I wrote this song entirely on the piano, whereas most of my songs rely on loops more heavily than I'd prefer.
I also feel like this song differs lyrically from some of my recent songs. As a writer, I'd expect lyrics to be the easiest part of songwriting, but I've found that I really struggle to be honest as a songwriter. It's so easy to fall back on cliches rather than writing a song than really comes from an honest place.
This song feels honest to me.
When My Eyes Are Blue
Talk me down again Seem to love this ledge What a view
I've got coffee on I know you like it strong You like it strong Won't be warm for long
And you're waiting for me To wake up from this dream From this dream And I don't want to lie to you But I'm only sad when my eyes are blue
Twilight's slipping in It's found me again Oh, again
And you're waiting for me To wake up from this dream From this dream And I don't want to lie to you But I'm only sad when my eyes are blue
BRIDGE And you're waiting for me To wake up from this dream But I just sleep
And I don't want to lie to you But I'm only sad when my eyes are blue
This demo is ROUGH. Also, the song is not even close to being finished, but I wanted to get the general idea up here.
I've been teaching myself how to play piano over the past month or so, so I'm super excited about how much I'm (hopefully) going to improve in the future...
When My Eyes Are Blue Talk me down again Seem to love this ledge What a view
And I've got coffee on I know you like it strong You like it strong Won't be warm for long
And I don't want to lie to you But I'm only sad when my eyes are blue
Twilight's slipping in It's found me again Oh, again
And I don't want to lie to you But I'm only sad when my eyes are blue
I've been working on a new song. It's by no means finished, but this is the general idea. It's the first song I've written on the piano without the use of loops and it's been both fun and frustrating. I look forward to getting better at this...
Frequency
We walked home from the party The sky was full of stars They looked so close But felt so very far
You told me I should go inside Said it's best to just move on And I guess you're right But I don't know if I'm that strong
'Cause you're on my frequency And I need you here with me Here with me
The card came on a Tuesday Just a date, a grain of rice It's at the church on Spruce Well, I suppose that will be nice
I've been afraid to call you Don't want to hear you say her name And life goes on But nothing is the same
'Cause you're on my frequency And I need you here with me Here with me And even now if you called I say I wouldn't run to you But I know it isn't true
'Cause you're on my frequency And I need you here with me Here with me
Earlier this year, I participated in February Album Writing Month. FAWM is an annual event in which musicians from all over the world commit to writing a full album in the month of February: 14 songs in 28 days. It's ridiculously fun and inspiring.
One of the best things about FAWM is the Weekly Challenge. Each week, FAWM presents artists with a new challenge to inspire us and jog our creativity. One week this year, FAWM participants Nancy Rost, Tim Wille, and Paul Turrell got together and wrote the chords and lyrics to a song. The challenge for FAWM participants was to record our own version of the song before listening to anyone else's. It was called the "Explore the Core" Challenge and the intention was to prove that a song is much more than the sum of its lyrics and chords.
Each version of the song ended up so incredibly different from the next. My version (with John Argentiero on guitar) is embedded above and has a very sleepy/sultry feel to it. My friend Andrew did an awesome heavy metal version and I recall Phil Norman's version being particularly moving and beautiful. The album also includes a great version from my friend Tara Craig, who is a fantastic singer-songwriter in Austin. There are 18 versions of the song in all.
I think the producers will be lucky to even recoup the cost of production, but any and all profits will be donated to RIME (Renovation in Music Education), which is an organization dedicated to helping young people succeed through innovative music-partnership programs.
If you're interested in picking up a copy, you can do so here.
I'm writing a new song right now-- on the keyboard! I'm pretty excited. Just a few months ago, I couldn't rub two keys together to make a chord, and now I'm writing a whole song on the keyboard!
I guess Mom was right: Practice, practice, practice.
Lately, I've become a little obsessed with the video function on my digital camera. If you haven't yet explored yours, I recommend against it. It's highly addictive.
As such, I've spent this beautiful Sunday afternoon in a sunny yellow coffee shop, editing footage from Friday's visit to the county fair. I'm super into this Ting Tings song right now, so I turned the footage into a little music video.
The song is called "Keep Your Head" and it comes from their album We Started Nothing, which came out last month. You can buy the album here and I recommend doing so. It's fun to bop along to on the bus.
I saw a fantastic show tonight. A fantastic, free show. Which makes it even extra fantastic.
The show was at Nottingham Co-op, which is a huge housing co-operative in downtown Madison and is also a gorgeous music venue.
The rain held off until nearly midnight, so we got to lounge on folding chairs and picnic tables in the co-op's lush backyard on the lake. The musicians played on a stone balcony above us as we swatted mosquitos and chowed down on some glorious tofu & black bean wraps.
Did I mention there was food?
Nottingham hosts shows frequently, but tonight's event was special. All of the performers (and there were a lot!) were current or former residents of the co-op. It was a great show, and also a fun reunion with a lot of special guests who were in from out of town.
The first act I caught was my friend Clare (formerly of The Buffali). This was my first time seeing her play live and she was fantastic. Clare's music has this amazing energy that I really admire and wish I could emulate. She really lights up a room-- or, in this case, a backyard.
Next up was Dietrich Gosser, who re-amazes me every time I see him play. Dietrich and his percussionist, Dan Kuemmel, gave us an astoundingly beautiful set. It's hard for music to be 'haunting' when it's 90 degrees and you're swatting mosquitoes, but they managed it.
This was my first time seeing Dan and he was incredible-- in addition to your garden variety drum set, he played bells, metal mixing bowls, and even the balcony railing. I'm in awe.
One of my favorite acts of the night was a band called Flower Baby. They had a great sort of alt-country sound (with a little free-styling (in Spanish!) mixed in!). I'd definitely go see them again.
I was going to post some videos, but between the unfortunate sound quality and my less-than-stellar cinematography, it's probably best if you just use your imagination.
I dragged home a beat-up old keyboard from a junk shop last week and it's basically taking up my entire bedroom right now. I'm considering selling my bed to make more room for it.
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After a month-long hiatus from music-making, I finished a new song today. It's good to be back.
About this song:
I don't know when it happened, but I somehow slip-slided from "all of my friends are single woooooooo!" to "all of my friends are getting married whaaaaaaaat?"
And before I could fully settle into engagement rings and wedding showers, the conversation turned to teething rings and changing tables. I'm beginning to worry that I've missed some significant boat here.
My Roommate. How old are you? Me. Twenty-six. My Roommate. Oh, ok. When I was 26, all of my friends were getting married, too. Now I'm 28 and they're all getting divorced.
Oh, god.
Joking aside, I feel really fortunate to be surrounded by people who are in amazingly balanced, loving, healthy relationships. It inspires me and it gives me hope.
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Come Around
Change is comin' round Something's up and I feel down I don't want to stop I just wanna slow it down
Mortgages and diamond rings When did we learn about all these things Life is long, or so I'm told It's a shame we spend it growin' old
And I ain't comin' round No, I ain't comin' round So, if you want me You will have to come on down Come on down
There's a heaven for those who wait But waiting's a big mistake Or so I'm told
'Cause those big, old pearly gates They won't open if you're too late Or so I'm told
CHORUS
Wanna tell you (Been wanting to tell you) We've got so much time So let's just slow it down
Toes in the grass And watchin' the sunset From the tallest tree Sounds alright by me We've got so much time
CHORUS
Life is short but that's ok We just live it day by day That's what I say
I've never had the guts to sing karaoke, but 'Brand New Key' is the only song I've ever seriously considered singing, so I'm particularly delighted by the comparison.
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Also: New song!
Something to Humble Me
Lately I've been hearing voices In my dreams Telling me stories About who I'm supposed to be
I've been taking chances and I've been looking all around There's gotta be something Bigger than what I've found
Maybe I need something to humble me 'Cause I haven't fallen but I've stumbled plenty and I don't know what's stopping me and--
Maybe I need something Maybe
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In other news, holy CRAP am I obsessed with Freddie Stevenson.
A few months ago, I wrote a song called "Wish" for February Album Writing Month. I was never really satisfied with it and so today I recorded a new version.
The song still needs work, but it hit the T61 homepage about six hours after posting and, as of this writing, has 884 bumps. That is by far the fastest growth of any song I've posted!
About this song:
It was the bluest sky I'd ever seen. People of every shape and color jostled us about on the street as we made our way up the steep sidewalk, past markets and shops, fresh vegetables and brightly-colored fabrics spilling from their doorways onto the street. Small Mexican children tumbled past us in a blur, beggars shook our pockets for change and old Asian women, with skin that was deceptively smooth, shrewdly eyed the carrots and the ginger root. A cacophony of music poured from the crowded storefronts, at once drawing us in and pushing us out.
We were out of shape and out of breath, pressing on up the hill, our haggard breath marking us as visitors to this place. On this raucous, jumbled street it was easy to forget where you left off and the world around you began, the sounds and smells and sights becoming a part of you, an extended limb of yourself. As we pushed our way through the dense crowd, he suddenly stopped. I turned to him and our eyes met and he was looking at me with a funny smile as he grabbed my hand.
"I think I'm always going to love you."
Funny that of all the memories—all the perfect, beautiful memories and all of the ugly, painful ones too—that’s the only one that still tightens my throat and burns my eyes. I think it always will.
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Wish I wished upon a star But the star was too far Couldn't reach you Couldn't reach you
So I wished on the sea But it wouldn't part for me Couldn't reach you Couldn't reach you
We were hand in hand Pushing through the crowd When you turned to me When you turned to me and you said-- "Think I'm always gonna love you"
Think I'm always gonna love you Think I'm always gonna love you
But we both knew That it was a lie Well maybe not a lie But more like a wish
It was a wish on a star A star that was too far Couldn't reach you Couldn't reach you
I wanted to tell you that my latest song just hit #1 on the T61 homepage. I also wanted to tell you that it is my birthday. Those are the things that I wanted to tell you.
About this song:
Quarter-life crisis. Hi, nice to meet you.
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Smoke Signals
There was a time when it all seemed clear I got a signal when I picked up the line But lately I feel like I'm out of range And I wish someone would give me a sign
I'm hearing doot doot doot And deet deet deet On my little radio I'm hearing doot doot doot And deet deet deet
I'm tapping out the signals And I'm sending up the flares But it seems that I'm lost out at sea But everywhere I look from my little life raft I see a thousand other drifters just like me
We're singing deet deet deet And doot doot doot On our little radios Singing doot doot doot And deet deet deet
CHORUS
But the sea is getting rocky And I'm starting to get cold And I'm wondering if I'm ever getting home
My friend Russell recently directed me to thesixtyone.com, which is a place for artists to post songs and for listeners to find new music. The site works like Digg except that listeners "bump" songs instead of articles. It's a genius idea and is incredibly addictive.
The website works like a game that rewards you for "discovering" awesome new music before it catches on with the masses. Bumping a song costs a certain number of points, so listeners generally only bump a song if they genuinely like it or think it will be successful. The earlier that you bump a song, the more points it costs you, but if the song ends up taking off, then you make a lot more points back.
Anyway, so I posted a few of my silly little songs a few days ago. My silly little songs that I recorded using the internal mic on my laptop and composed using software that came with my computer. And, today, one of those silly little songs hit the T61 homepage with (at the time of this posting) 206 bumps. It's currently #2 on the homepage, right under a Shout Out Louds song. One of my other songs is creeping up behind with 121 bumps!
Guys, that is NUTS.
This is all really funny/amazing to me because I do not in any way think of myself as a real musician. People keep asking if I want to collaborate or if I have an album they can buy and I'm like whattttt?
This is a real rough idea that I threw together tonight. Concept: Angel on your left shoulder / devil on your right shoulder. I'll need to go back and rework the lyrics, but this is the general idea.
p.s. I'm real into the banjos lately.
p.p.s. I was singing reallllly quietly.
Look Me Up(click link to listen) Who do you think you are Come walkin' in here like you done own the place A man like you shaves only one side of his face A man like you A man like you has got a few tricks up his sleeve You don't hesitate when you pull out that little black book You just call right on, call me Look, look me up Look me up
Looked you up in my little black book Look me up, look me up Gettin' lonely down here Just need someone to call me dear Look me up, look me up Look me up, look me up I know a man like you has got a few tricks up his sleeve Pull out that little black book when you look me up
In an effort to jog my writer's block, I attempted something a little different tonight. I'm not so sure that I like it, but it was a fun exploration in a slightly different direction.
Your Sweetest Cliché(click to listen) Take your pen, take your paper Take your pen, take your paper Take your pen, take your paper I want to be your sweetest cliché I want to be
My first day volunteering at the local radio station, I had the opportunity to watch someone sort the mail. OH MY GOD THEY GET SO MUCH MAIL. This is just a teensy little community radio station in the Midwest, guys. This is not Clear Channel. This is not Sony BMG. This is not even Saddle Creek, but there were like ten zillion CDs and some of them had posters or cutesy little gifts and they were all very professional-looking and, dudes, with the exception of R.E.M., I had never heard of any of these people.
It felt kind of overwhelming-- all of these artists just floating out in the abyss, unheard; their labor of love dumped unceremoniously in a cardboard box in the storage room of some community radio station.
I mentioned recently that a friend of mine put one of my songs on a mix CD. My initial thought was: "You can do that?" As if music is only music if it's handed down by a record company with slick packaging and downloadable ringtones.
My experience with FAWM has only succeeded in broadening my views further-- I've discovered songs through that site that I love every bit as much as the newest Panda Bear or Cold War Kids. This is music, too, and it feels real and it feels accessible.
Anyway, these thoughts are a bit disjointed, but I just wanted to write something about that.
I was visiting my parents and found some funny poetry that I wrote back in high school.
I heard Frances' amazing cover of Yeats' The Lake Isle of Innisfree on FAWM.
John A sent me a guitar piece he'd recorded and asked me if I wanted to add some lyrics.
I made the obvious mental leap.
My process:
Listened to John's guitar part once or twice just to get a rough idea of how it goes.
Recorded myself singing the poem-- no planning, no second takes. I wanted to come up with something as raw and organic as possible (mmm raw and organic).
I might come back to this later-- ask John to re-record the guitar to a click-track, add some loops, tighten up the lyrics, etc. The ending is really abrupt right now and it's because I ran out of music and couldn't finish the poem, ha.
Also, John's guitar-ing is really beautiful, but every time I get to the part where I sing "to make the whole like the hole in me" I start laughing. Oh, high school.
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lovehungry
sweet hell-bent lovehungry: your desire swells to me like a red balloon at the Fair on a hot summersticky after noon
but still not Fair as i wished on a well you'd be, thirsty for my kiss, but still doorslamming mad, i'm wanting to bash in the wall to make the whole like the hole in me--
but i'm all emptied out like my crack ed coffee cup and you are the glue i need
I'm so thankful for winter here, even when it's feet upon feet of snow and thirty below zero. Boots crunching through the snow, I look around and all I can think is that-- in just a few short months-- all of this snow will be green grass and flowers, flip flops slapping the sidewalk. And I feel so lucky to live in a place that can be beautiful in so many different ways.
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Thirty Below Two feet of snow and it's thirty below But all I know Is all I can see is snow for miles and miles But in a few months it will be green grass
Dogs playing in the park Birds singing songs about love And little children on their bikes Ice cream drippin' off a cone And skirts swirling 'round my calves And I've maybe got a tan
Birds singing overhead and Singing songs about love and Maybe I'll fall in love, too
At least once a day I find myself Walking down the street And I've got a smile on my face And I don't know why
It's times like these when I wish I was a religious person So I'd know who to thank Instead I just send up a thank you Like a birthday balloon And hope that someone catches it
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