I would like to believe that as we age we become stronger, more experienced and better able to articulate what we want or need, that we're better equipped to know when we need to take and when we can give. It's a nice fiction. In many ways we give in or give up, setting aside just those things we want or need in the name of expediency or simplicity. Sometimes it's not worth the energy or effort or repeating the same old routine. After all, the devil you know....
So I often wonder- if you pretend or imagine something long enough, does it become true? Obviously you can't imagine a physical object and have it appear or disappear. But what about things that are only real within your head. Can you force yourself to be different just by pretending? If you pretend to be happy do you actually become happy? If you pretend you don't want something do you really stop wanting it? It seems like a fool's errand and yet there's a lot to be said for the placebo effect.
Pretending can't make things exist anymore than believing in unicorns makes them flesh-and-blood animals. (That's an odd saying...leaves out important things like bones.) But maybe it works for something that isn't "real" in the sense that it is transient and intrinsic, something no one else can touch or see like happiness, sadness, erotic desire, or pride. Maybe. But at what point does pretending turn to giving up? Maybe that's the secret...the point where you give up is the same as the point where it no longer matters whether you're pretending or it's real. Too bad I have a real hard time quitting or letting go.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Saturday, June 27, 2015
A stereotypical argument
In my teens and twenties I watched a lot of stand up comedy. In particular comedic approaches to sex fascinated me. It wasn't the physicality or the teenage titters but the way all comedians, men and women, discussed the interaction between men and women about the topic. There were common themes and observations which, at that point, I didn't have the experience to understand.
Male comedians found humor in sexual quantity, lack of interest from their partner, differences between dating and married sex lives, and of course the...cruder...aspects of the physical act. Female comedians found the humor in their partners' sexual appetite, the ways in which they showed interest, their partner's lack of ability to make them orgasm, or their partner's "oral fixation." The topics were consistent enough for me to think there was something to it, not just a silly story for the sake of laughs.
After many more years and hundreds of conversations amongst friends, family, and colleagues I think I finally have an inkling of the source of these differences. Obviously I can only speak from my own experience and my own interpretation of what others bring to the table. And I only approach this from the viewpoint of being with someone for a long time, not from the "we just started dating" perspective where things are simply different and rarely represent anything close to reality. Also, let's just ignore the "bros," those guys that can't think about anything beyond their dick, don't know how to show respect to anyone much less a woman, and don't actually represent the majority of men.
Men view sex as both a means and an end within itself. It's a catharsis, a release of pent up energy or frustration. In many ways it's a reset button. It's a connection and a visceral experience. When it's done you feel closer, protective, like a bond has been renewed. Sure, there are times when the emotional or psychological aspect is less prevalent, but even then the act helps to retain that invisible connection to someone else. It's also just plain fun. Why not skip doing laundry, mowing the lawn, or some work report that no one will read anyway?
In contrast, women often seem to view sex as a chore, another item that "needs done" but isn't necessarily a means or end in itself. Sex doesn't play the same role or get the same priority. It becomes something to maybe do when everything else is done, not something to do for the sake of itself. Example- men have a bad day and sex makes it better, men don't feel well and sex makes it better, or men have a stressful day and sex makes it better. It doesn't seem to work that way for women. It's not that they don't enjoy the act (a ridiculous implication that still lives on because people are dumb) and sex serves many of the same functions (energy release, emotional connection, etc). And yet there is still a vast, wordless gulf between the sexes that no one has been able to enunciate.
In many ways these differences are not surprising. Aside from the too-often-abhorrently misapplied consideration of biological, physiological, and psychological differences inherent in the sexes, women carry a significant burden of society and tradition- children, home care, and for the past 50 years the added stress of needing to work to support the family. At the same time, it is very strange. Both men and women work hard, experience stress and frustration, and need a release for that energy. Both sexes need to remain emotionally and physically connected to maintain a relationship.
Most couples have some version of an argument revolving around the phrase "we can do it or enjoy it more when (insert any of a thousand things here) happens." But as far as I can tell, they spend their lives saying this and never actually get to the part about doing or enjoying. Instead, they end up chasing the dragon. That's life- there's always something else that needs done, something else that needs attention, or something else to stress us out. To wait until some ideal time seems to be the common compromise, yet I don't see it making very many couples happy.
Ultimately, I don't know if there is or can be a solution. We all want and expect different things. Plus, such a personal act as the giving of yourself comes with its own attendant baggage (body issues, fears, and all the myriad things that prevent you from just enjoying the act for the sake of enjoyment). It's like a tornado on top of a volcano during an earthquake- you're fucked (haha...yeah) no matter what you do.
After all these centuries the biggest thing that seems to change is that women (at least in many groups) have much more power and choice over their own sex lives. But the same old stereotypes play out. There are biological, sociological, psychological, and a whole myriad of other -ogical reasons why sex remains a source of tension amongst people. No couple is immune. And that's what makes it such a fascinating and profoundly frustrating problem.
Male comedians found humor in sexual quantity, lack of interest from their partner, differences between dating and married sex lives, and of course the...cruder...aspects of the physical act. Female comedians found the humor in their partners' sexual appetite, the ways in which they showed interest, their partner's lack of ability to make them orgasm, or their partner's "oral fixation." The topics were consistent enough for me to think there was something to it, not just a silly story for the sake of laughs.
After many more years and hundreds of conversations amongst friends, family, and colleagues I think I finally have an inkling of the source of these differences. Obviously I can only speak from my own experience and my own interpretation of what others bring to the table. And I only approach this from the viewpoint of being with someone for a long time, not from the "we just started dating" perspective where things are simply different and rarely represent anything close to reality. Also, let's just ignore the "bros," those guys that can't think about anything beyond their dick, don't know how to show respect to anyone much less a woman, and don't actually represent the majority of men.
Men view sex as both a means and an end within itself. It's a catharsis, a release of pent up energy or frustration. In many ways it's a reset button. It's a connection and a visceral experience. When it's done you feel closer, protective, like a bond has been renewed. Sure, there are times when the emotional or psychological aspect is less prevalent, but even then the act helps to retain that invisible connection to someone else. It's also just plain fun. Why not skip doing laundry, mowing the lawn, or some work report that no one will read anyway?
In contrast, women often seem to view sex as a chore, another item that "needs done" but isn't necessarily a means or end in itself. Sex doesn't play the same role or get the same priority. It becomes something to maybe do when everything else is done, not something to do for the sake of itself. Example- men have a bad day and sex makes it better, men don't feel well and sex makes it better, or men have a stressful day and sex makes it better. It doesn't seem to work that way for women. It's not that they don't enjoy the act (a ridiculous implication that still lives on because people are dumb) and sex serves many of the same functions (energy release, emotional connection, etc). And yet there is still a vast, wordless gulf between the sexes that no one has been able to enunciate.
In many ways these differences are not surprising. Aside from the too-often-abhorrently misapplied consideration of biological, physiological, and psychological differences inherent in the sexes, women carry a significant burden of society and tradition- children, home care, and for the past 50 years the added stress of needing to work to support the family. At the same time, it is very strange. Both men and women work hard, experience stress and frustration, and need a release for that energy. Both sexes need to remain emotionally and physically connected to maintain a relationship.
Most couples have some version of an argument revolving around the phrase "we can do it or enjoy it more when (insert any of a thousand things here) happens." But as far as I can tell, they spend their lives saying this and never actually get to the part about doing or enjoying. Instead, they end up chasing the dragon. That's life- there's always something else that needs done, something else that needs attention, or something else to stress us out. To wait until some ideal time seems to be the common compromise, yet I don't see it making very many couples happy.
Ultimately, I don't know if there is or can be a solution. We all want and expect different things. Plus, such a personal act as the giving of yourself comes with its own attendant baggage (body issues, fears, and all the myriad things that prevent you from just enjoying the act for the sake of enjoyment). It's like a tornado on top of a volcano during an earthquake- you're fucked (haha...yeah) no matter what you do.
After all these centuries the biggest thing that seems to change is that women (at least in many groups) have much more power and choice over their own sex lives. But the same old stereotypes play out. There are biological, sociological, psychological, and a whole myriad of other -ogical reasons why sex remains a source of tension amongst people. No couple is immune. And that's what makes it such a fascinating and profoundly frustrating problem.
Friday, August 15, 2014
If you act like an asshole, you deserve bad things to happen to you
I wanted to post this on Facebook, but people can't handle it. Someone always has to chime in with something unrelated or defend people acting like asshats. I'm not looking for some pithy rejoinder about how I should calm down. I'm well aware that the universe is not fair and that this is something out of my control. I just want to blow off steam and and then I can calm down. Normally, I guess people do this with some type of intense physical activity, but since I'm a fat fuck and because I like words, I'm gonna do it this way.
This is about to get mean, so if you're easily offended, you should just stop now. Seriously. This is gonna happen. I don't typically advocate violence or suicide, but I'm definitely not opposed to weeding out the dregs of society, particularly if they would be so kind as to take care of it themselves. Also, there is significant profanity, including a word I rarely use (but the British have it right...it's a beautiful word).
You've been warned.
To the two people that pulled out in front of me and came within inches of getting t-boned while my kid was in the car- I hope you die. Fucking die. Seriously. Fuck you, fuck your parents for not raising you better, and fuck society for not kicking your ass so you know that your behavior is unacceptable. Your mom should have swallowed. Make this world a better place and leave it. Your genes aren't worth passing on. When you make a mistake, YOU apologize. You don't blame other people and you don't flip them off. I hope you hit a pole and end up paralyzed so that you have nothing to do but sit around with your pathetic waste of a self and think about what miserable bastards you are and how you've done nothing but be a drain on the people around you. You are a burden to everyone else and we're better off without you. If there is a God, I hope he kicks you in the ass so hard you taste clouds for eternity while you're burning in hell for being a miserable excuse of a person. Kiss my ass, fuck you, and if I ever come across you again, I hope I see someone punch you in the dick and/or vagina just to prevent you from ever having children that you can teach to be fucktards like yourselves.
If you got this far and you happen to know who these people were, please forward this to them with my blessing. People that act like garbage to other people deserve to be treated like it and we usually burn or bury garbage, so let's go ahead and get on that.
This is about to get mean, so if you're easily offended, you should just stop now. Seriously. This is gonna happen. I don't typically advocate violence or suicide, but I'm definitely not opposed to weeding out the dregs of society, particularly if they would be so kind as to take care of it themselves. Also, there is significant profanity, including a word I rarely use (but the British have it right...it's a beautiful word).
You've been warned.
To the two people that pulled out in front of me and came within inches of getting t-boned while my kid was in the car- I hope you die. Fucking die. Seriously. Fuck you, fuck your parents for not raising you better, and fuck society for not kicking your ass so you know that your behavior is unacceptable. Your mom should have swallowed. Make this world a better place and leave it. Your genes aren't worth passing on. When you make a mistake, YOU apologize. You don't blame other people and you don't flip them off. I hope you hit a pole and end up paralyzed so that you have nothing to do but sit around with your pathetic waste of a self and think about what miserable bastards you are and how you've done nothing but be a drain on the people around you. You are a burden to everyone else and we're better off without you. If there is a God, I hope he kicks you in the ass so hard you taste clouds for eternity while you're burning in hell for being a miserable excuse of a person. Kiss my ass, fuck you, and if I ever come across you again, I hope I see someone punch you in the dick and/or vagina just to prevent you from ever having children that you can teach to be fucktards like yourselves.
If you got this far and you happen to know who these people were, please forward this to them with my blessing. People that act like garbage to other people deserve to be treated like it and we usually burn or bury garbage, so let's go ahead and get on that.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
People are inane
I can safely say that I understand people even less than I did when I was younger. I've grown much older but only moderately wiser - wise enough to know that my wisdom is limited and never a good thing to say out loud. But none of that has helped me understand why people do the things they do. It's not the laziness, nonchalance, or even abject refusal to work for something that doesn't have immediate, tangible benefits. I can almost understand those non-motivations. They're human. We all want the easy way and if it's offered, it's a rare person that won't succumb. No, what I don't understand is the refusal to act on knowledge. Let me demonstrate.
Often students will ask me what I think - about their work, about their classes, or in rare cases about their life. I consider my job, as an instructor and a human, to give an honest assessment. People need to know their strengths, weaknesses, successes, and failures. And having gone through many of these same experiences, I like to think that I can provide some insight. And then, without even batting an eye, these same people will completely ignore what they heard (if they heard anything at all). They won't address their weaknesses, they won't play to their strengths, and they won't do anything differently. They just keep on going even after getting the answer. It's almost a slap in the face.
Or consider this gem - have you ever had someone ask you what you wanted or needed? Not in an offhand way, but genuinely interested in a real answer, not a backhanded remark or sarcastic quip. That's a dangerous question when posed in seriousness. The answer exposes you, putting you in a position where you have to give a piece of yourself. In some ways you're giving someone power over you by answering. If you're comfortable enough to answer it seriously, you want them to take the answer seriously and use it, preferably for good. But then they take that information and sit on it like they're hatching an egg. It's like they cared enough to ask and listen but didn't care enough to actually do anything about it. Obviously you can't give everyone everything all the time. But why ask such a personal question if only to ignore it? It's almost a slap in the face.
There are countless other things, some bigger social issues or smaller personal obstacles, but the end result is the same - refusal to use knowledge, even if it makes life better for you or someone else. This is something I see all the time but can't fathom. We're all guilty of it at some point, yet it seems like the majority of people are prone to it. Sometimes it seems like people ask these questions out of morbid curiosity with the express intent of not doing anything useful with the information. At some point it becomes so frustrating that you don't even want to answer those types of questions because no amount of honesty or conscientious answers is going to change the outcome.
Maybe it's just another predilection of humanity that has no rhyme or reason. Or maybe I'm expecting too much. Either way, it just seems inane to me to ask if you're not going to use the answer. Just keep it in mind the next time you ask a question like that. If it's a question that requires someone to share a piece of themselves or if it's a question that is hard to ask and you may not want to hear the answer, think twice about asking if you're not going to actually use the answer.
Often students will ask me what I think - about their work, about their classes, or in rare cases about their life. I consider my job, as an instructor and a human, to give an honest assessment. People need to know their strengths, weaknesses, successes, and failures. And having gone through many of these same experiences, I like to think that I can provide some insight. And then, without even batting an eye, these same people will completely ignore what they heard (if they heard anything at all). They won't address their weaknesses, they won't play to their strengths, and they won't do anything differently. They just keep on going even after getting the answer. It's almost a slap in the face.
Or consider this gem - have you ever had someone ask you what you wanted or needed? Not in an offhand way, but genuinely interested in a real answer, not a backhanded remark or sarcastic quip. That's a dangerous question when posed in seriousness. The answer exposes you, putting you in a position where you have to give a piece of yourself. In some ways you're giving someone power over you by answering. If you're comfortable enough to answer it seriously, you want them to take the answer seriously and use it, preferably for good. But then they take that information and sit on it like they're hatching an egg. It's like they cared enough to ask and listen but didn't care enough to actually do anything about it. Obviously you can't give everyone everything all the time. But why ask such a personal question if only to ignore it? It's almost a slap in the face.
There are countless other things, some bigger social issues or smaller personal obstacles, but the end result is the same - refusal to use knowledge, even if it makes life better for you or someone else. This is something I see all the time but can't fathom. We're all guilty of it at some point, yet it seems like the majority of people are prone to it. Sometimes it seems like people ask these questions out of morbid curiosity with the express intent of not doing anything useful with the information. At some point it becomes so frustrating that you don't even want to answer those types of questions because no amount of honesty or conscientious answers is going to change the outcome.
Maybe it's just another predilection of humanity that has no rhyme or reason. Or maybe I'm expecting too much. Either way, it just seems inane to me to ask if you're not going to use the answer. Just keep it in mind the next time you ask a question like that. If it's a question that requires someone to share a piece of themselves or if it's a question that is hard to ask and you may not want to hear the answer, think twice about asking if you're not going to actually use the answer.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Last Goodbye
Wow...almost a year since I posted anything. Time flies when you have shit to do. Or to not do since continuing my posts has fallen by the side. Technically it's no longer V-Day, but I'll post this anyway.
In some ways I consider this my opus. In technical terms, musically and lyrically, it's not the best I ever did, but somehow this is the one that sticks the most and definitely means the most to me. It's one I lived. It's also the one that has my favorite line that I ever wrote. I'll leave it to others to figure out which one it is.
Yeah, it's not a lovey-dovey V-Day song, but it's a love song anyway. And it is, hands down, the most painful thing I ever put on paper. Yes, I wrote this by hand back in the dark ages before phones recorded everything. It's hard to describe, so I'll just let it speak for itself.
Last Goodbye
We’re standing in the passing shine
of headlights heading farther on
and home is just a block or two away
The silence that surrounds our steps
is perfectness in duplicate
since neither of us knows what to say
On your porch at 2 AM
with moonlight glinting off your hair
preparing all the words you think
will make this last goodbye complete
I’m holding you against myself
defenseless but not innocent,
and every time the screen door slams
the walls go up between us again.
Before you say your last goodbye,
convinced that you are justified,
there’s just one thing that I want you to know.
Every time I let you go
the beating of my heart…slows…down.
I've got time
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around
I know it hurts, like nothing else,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain
We have grown accustomed to
contrition and apologies
but never knowing what we’re sorry for
The argument is getting stale
sitting there up on the shelf
right next to where my picture used to be
She said “We never did enough,
the time apart was just too tough,
and I’m not cut out for this kind of life.
I cannot be satisfied with second best,
and though I’ve tried, I realize
there must be more than this.”
Sleeping through these bitter days
just to keep your ghost at bay
and praying for release from all this pain
Every time I turn my head,
I see you from the corner of my eye.
This beautiful mirage
that shimmers in my mind.
Now we sit alone at night,
talking around how we really feel,
determined to prove what we had
was too damn good to be real.
Before I say my last goodbye,
and go pretend I’m doing fine,
there’s just one thing I wanted you to know.
Every time I let you go,
the beating of my heart…slows…down.
I've got time.
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around.
It still hurts, more than it should,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain.
I've got time.
I've got time.
To stare into these photographs,
and ask myself why nothing lasts,
why everything that’s beautiful has
passed…me…by
In some ways I consider this my opus. In technical terms, musically and lyrically, it's not the best I ever did, but somehow this is the one that sticks the most and definitely means the most to me. It's one I lived. It's also the one that has my favorite line that I ever wrote. I'll leave it to others to figure out which one it is.
Yeah, it's not a lovey-dovey V-Day song, but it's a love song anyway. And it is, hands down, the most painful thing I ever put on paper. Yes, I wrote this by hand back in the dark ages before phones recorded everything. It's hard to describe, so I'll just let it speak for itself.
Last Goodbye
We’re standing in the passing shine
of headlights heading farther on
and home is just a block or two away
The silence that surrounds our steps
is perfectness in duplicate
since neither of us knows what to say
On your porch at 2 AM
with moonlight glinting off your hair
preparing all the words you think
will make this last goodbye complete
I’m holding you against myself
defenseless but not innocent,
and every time the screen door slams
the walls go up between us again.
Before you say your last goodbye,
convinced that you are justified,
there’s just one thing that I want you to know.
Every time I let you go
the beating of my heart…slows…down.
I've got time
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around
I know it hurts, like nothing else,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain
We have grown accustomed to
contrition and apologies
but never knowing what we’re sorry for
The argument is getting stale
sitting there up on the shelf
right next to where my picture used to be
She said “We never did enough,
the time apart was just too tough,
and I’m not cut out for this kind of life.
I cannot be satisfied with second best,
and though I’ve tried, I realize
there must be more than this.”
Sleeping through these bitter days
just to keep your ghost at bay
and praying for release from all this pain
Every time I turn my head,
I see you from the corner of my eye.
This beautiful mirage
that shimmers in my mind.
Now we sit alone at night,
talking around how we really feel,
determined to prove what we had
was too damn good to be real.
Before I say my last goodbye,
and go pretend I’m doing fine,
there’s just one thing I wanted you to know.
Every time I let you go,
the beating of my heart…slows…down.
I've got time.
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around.
It still hurts, more than it should,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain.
I've got time.
I've got time.
To stare into these photographs,
and ask myself why nothing lasts,
why everything that’s beautiful has
passed…me…by
Monday, February 28, 2011
Her Name
One of the more amusing things I see in people is their, often inexplicable, ability to do exactly the opposite of what any observer thinks they would do. This is never more clear and more confusing to watch than when it comes to matters of the heart.
I think most people have been there. That situation where you go all in- you learn everything you possibly can about someone, put in the time and effort and love that it takes to know them at a level that goes beyond physical or emotional attraction- only to see them turn away and run to someone else that won't take the time or put in the love and dedication to know them. You watch them run to someone you know will never love them or give them the support they need.
This is a rather...logical...take on an emotional issue. And emotion trumps logic any day. We don't choose who we love. And there's no accounting for taste. But it's brutally depressing to be on the receiving end. To be the person that puts in the dedication to knowing someone and being there for them and picking them up every time they stumble...only to be left for someone that doesn't love them and takes them for granted.
This song is for all of those people that have had to live through the trauma. It's about knowing a girl down to her soul and having to watch her be with someone that can barely remember her name. It's about knowing that she still cares but, for whatever reason, just runs keeps running. At the heart of it all it's about loving her enough that you can endure watching her be with someone that will never love her the way she deserves.
This is my second favorite thing I ever wrote. This one was a lot of blood and tears. It was hard. Not hard to write lyrically- that actually came pretty readily. It was more because this was an emotionally devastating ride. When things hit so close to home there are times when you want to quit because it feels like the next line or next thought will push you over the edge. But that's part of why I write...the catharsis. When it's done and you look back and you've created something that you like so much and means so much to you...it takes some of the edge off the pain. It's like a narcotic- it doesn't take the pain away but it dulls that sharp edge and lets you function enough to keep going. Anyway, I like this one a lot and I hope it means something to you too.
Her Name
(Key of C)
Pink carnations are her favorite flower
Orange blossom is her favorite smell
The way she curls her right hand in
is her poker tell
Horses are her favorite past-time
She loves dancing in the rain
She always has a beautiful smile
even when she's in pain
I know you think she's looking at you
but the light, it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the places she goes,
I knew them long before you came.
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name
She's fragile like a winter snowflake
that melts when it touches your skin
She's stronger than she'll ever admit
but she'll break before she'll ever bend
She loves driving for the sake of it
The movement calms her down
She loves to argue just to prove a point
and "It's Christmas Again, Charlie Brown"
I know you think she likes to look at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know that she's thinking of me
in some dark corner of her brain
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name
Being like her mom is her biggest fear
Being with me is next
She always had a way with words
and she could always read the subtext
I know that she's thinking of me
when she takes off her dress
and when she's done she stares at the dark
and lights her cigarette
She sees my reflection in the twisting smoke,
a mirror of her feelings,
as I evaporate from her breath
and into the ceiling.
The drama of girls makes her crazy
she makes friends with all the boys
Her smile captures hearts like an orphan
Her anger drives her to destroy
She doesn't give her heart up easily
but when she does she goes all in
She's easy to break and hard to remake
Making her cry is a sin
I know you think she's looking at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she loves you too
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the pain that she hides,
I knew her long before you came.
I know all the faces she has,
you barely even know her name
I know all the places to touch
that get the blood pounding in her veins
I know all the buttons to push
to turn her into pleasure from pain
I know all the secrets she hides
I knew them long before you came
I know where she got all her scars
Boy, you don't even know her name
I think most people have been there. That situation where you go all in- you learn everything you possibly can about someone, put in the time and effort and love that it takes to know them at a level that goes beyond physical or emotional attraction- only to see them turn away and run to someone else that won't take the time or put in the love and dedication to know them. You watch them run to someone you know will never love them or give them the support they need.
This is a rather...logical...take on an emotional issue. And emotion trumps logic any day. We don't choose who we love. And there's no accounting for taste. But it's brutally depressing to be on the receiving end. To be the person that puts in the dedication to knowing someone and being there for them and picking them up every time they stumble...only to be left for someone that doesn't love them and takes them for granted.
This song is for all of those people that have had to live through the trauma. It's about knowing a girl down to her soul and having to watch her be with someone that can barely remember her name. It's about knowing that she still cares but, for whatever reason, just runs keeps running. At the heart of it all it's about loving her enough that you can endure watching her be with someone that will never love her the way she deserves.
This is my second favorite thing I ever wrote. This one was a lot of blood and tears. It was hard. Not hard to write lyrically- that actually came pretty readily. It was more because this was an emotionally devastating ride. When things hit so close to home there are times when you want to quit because it feels like the next line or next thought will push you over the edge. But that's part of why I write...the catharsis. When it's done and you look back and you've created something that you like so much and means so much to you...it takes some of the edge off the pain. It's like a narcotic- it doesn't take the pain away but it dulls that sharp edge and lets you function enough to keep going. Anyway, I like this one a lot and I hope it means something to you too.
Her Name
(Key of C)
Pink carnations are her favorite flower
Orange blossom is her favorite smell
The way she curls her right hand in
is her poker tell
Horses are her favorite past-time
She loves dancing in the rain
She always has a beautiful smile
even when she's in pain
I know you think she's looking at you
but the light, it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the places she goes,
I knew them long before you came.
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name
She's fragile like a winter snowflake
that melts when it touches your skin
She's stronger than she'll ever admit
but she'll break before she'll ever bend
She loves driving for the sake of it
The movement calms her down
She loves to argue just to prove a point
and "It's Christmas Again, Charlie Brown"
I know you think she likes to look at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know that she's thinking of me
in some dark corner of her brain
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name
Being like her mom is her biggest fear
Being with me is next
She always had a way with words
and she could always read the subtext
I know that she's thinking of me
when she takes off her dress
and when she's done she stares at the dark
and lights her cigarette
She sees my reflection in the twisting smoke,
a mirror of her feelings,
as I evaporate from her breath
and into the ceiling.
The drama of girls makes her crazy
she makes friends with all the boys
Her smile captures hearts like an orphan
Her anger drives her to destroy
She doesn't give her heart up easily
but when she does she goes all in
She's easy to break and hard to remake
Making her cry is a sin
I know you think she's looking at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she loves you too
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the pain that she hides,
I knew her long before you came.
I know all the faces she has,
you barely even know her name
I know all the places to touch
that get the blood pounding in her veins
I know all the buttons to push
to turn her into pleasure from pain
I know all the secrets she hides
I knew them long before you came
I know where she got all her scars
Boy, you don't even know her name
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
A Precious Thing
A new month is here and a new song seems fitting.
When you tell people you write or enjoy writing they always want to know what you write. I assume they want to hear murder mysteries or Westerns or something of that nature. So when people ask me what type of songs I write I tell them I write love songs. They usually come from a dark place and are born out of my own insecurity and pain but, at the heart of it, they're about love, fractured as it may be.
Writing about something happy is hard for me because that's not where my inspiration comes from. But there are those rare things in life that I find important enough to tackle artistically even if they are out of my comfort zone.
My daughter will be four months old in 10 days. I wrote this for her.
A Precious Thing
I was there for your first breath
Picked you up when you bumped your head
I was there when you fell asleep and when you woke
I hope you learn that love is kind
I hope you learn that justice is blind
I hope the world doesn't teach you fear or teach you hate
I hope you run with open arms
I hope you dance even when it storms
I hope you face the things everyone else hides from
It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A tiny girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing
I was there for your first tear
kept you warm and soothed your fear
I was there when you cried all night and when you smiled
I hope you learn how to laugh
I hope you learn that pain will pass
I hope you learn to forgive because time goes too fast.
I hope you learn to take a chance
I hope you find a true romance
I hope you offer your heart but never lose yourself
It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A perfect girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing
When you tell people you write or enjoy writing they always want to know what you write. I assume they want to hear murder mysteries or Westerns or something of that nature. So when people ask me what type of songs I write I tell them I write love songs. They usually come from a dark place and are born out of my own insecurity and pain but, at the heart of it, they're about love, fractured as it may be.
Writing about something happy is hard for me because that's not where my inspiration comes from. But there are those rare things in life that I find important enough to tackle artistically even if they are out of my comfort zone.
My daughter will be four months old in 10 days. I wrote this for her.
A Precious Thing
I was there for your first breath
Picked you up when you bumped your head
I was there when you fell asleep and when you woke
I hope you learn that love is kind
I hope you learn that justice is blind
I hope the world doesn't teach you fear or teach you hate
I hope you run with open arms
I hope you dance even when it storms
I hope you face the things everyone else hides from
It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A tiny girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing
I was there for your first tear
kept you warm and soothed your fear
I was there when you cried all night and when you smiled
I hope you learn how to laugh
I hope you learn that pain will pass
I hope you learn to forgive because time goes too fast.
I hope you learn to take a chance
I hope you find a true romance
I hope you offer your heart but never lose yourself
It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A perfect girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Carry On
First post of the new year. So happy new year to everyone. Maybe this year will be better than the last. Adam Duritz for the win!
Anyway, here's my first song of the year. Fittingly, it's actually the very first song I ever wrote. Not my best work or even my favorite but it does have a certain nostalgia for me, particularly the middle two verses.
Carry On
Roll on down back to your home.
Maybe you’ll find out why you feel so alone.
It’s hard on me to see you down like this,
but maybe it’s better this way and the hurt will pass
Take a stand. Find something you believe in.
Make a friend before you wind up hating everyone
And make amends with the one you love before they’re off and gone
Where will you find the strength you need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
I know you tried so hard to put it all aside
but you can’t forget the way you felt that night.
And when we said goodbye in the cold California dawn,
how was I to know we’d be so unresolved.
Stop my breath before I speak your name
and burn my lips with this unrequited flame.
I promise I’ll take the blame for making us so weak and overgrown.
Where will I find the strength I need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
Speak your mind before your brain explodes.
Lay it down before it gets too heavy for you to hold
and it drags you down. Your heart is tied to your sleeve just like a stone.
Now where will you find the love you need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
Anyway, here's my first song of the year. Fittingly, it's actually the very first song I ever wrote. Not my best work or even my favorite but it does have a certain nostalgia for me, particularly the middle two verses.
Carry On
Roll on down back to your home.
Maybe you’ll find out why you feel so alone.
It’s hard on me to see you down like this,
but maybe it’s better this way and the hurt will pass
Take a stand. Find something you believe in.
Make a friend before you wind up hating everyone
And make amends with the one you love before they’re off and gone
Where will you find the strength you need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
I know you tried so hard to put it all aside
but you can’t forget the way you felt that night.
And when we said goodbye in the cold California dawn,
how was I to know we’d be so unresolved.
Stop my breath before I speak your name
and burn my lips with this unrequited flame.
I promise I’ll take the blame for making us so weak and overgrown.
Where will I find the strength I need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
Speak your mind before your brain explodes.
Lay it down before it gets too heavy for you to hold
and it drags you down. Your heart is tied to your sleeve just like a stone.
Now where will you find the love you need
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Hurt Me
Well, I'd say it's been an eventful time since I posted anything. Had a kid, changed jobs, and now I'm trying to finish up the last of my scientific work so that I can make a clean break. Busy as a bee. Although bees are busy dying from CCD (that's colony collapse disorder for those that don't keep up with apiarists), so maybe I would rather be busy like a woodchuck or a squirrel or a nymphomaniac.
The selection today comes from something I wrote over the course of several years. A lot of songs take only days, at least to get lyrics and a musical backbone. Others you start and then get distracted. I find that these are the hardest to finish because after so much time has passed you find yourself in a different place with a different mind set and a different take on things. Of course, some themes are so universal (or people do shit to you for so long) that you don't really forget them. In these cases, coming back can lend new insight or just let you get those few lines that were missing.
Neil Young, during an interview, said that he only wrote one song at a time because "songs are jealous." I don't think it's jealousy so much as selfishness. I tend to work on several at once, often with them feeding back and improving each other. But there are those occasional things that demand full attention or they refuse to come at all. This was one of the latter.
This is a song about letting people hurt you because you'd rather hurt than see them hurt (how many times can you use hurt in a sentence?). It's a sacrifice we all make at some point, but a lot of people (read: me) let it go too far and end up suffering for things that are completely out of their control. We also let it go on far too long, even when it's obvious that the sacrifice isn't enough to make someone else happy and never will be. So for all you people out there that ever let yourself hurt for someone else, this is for you.
Hurt Me
(Key of Gm)
Verse:
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm
Chorus:
C Dm(I) (x4)
Breakdown:
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III)/Dm(V)/C(III)/Dm(V) (stacatto) (x2)
Bb C(III)
Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm
I don't understand how you grew to be so mean
So unsympathetic and stepping on my dreams
When it's silence I need most that's when you want to scream
I'd do anything to ease your suffering
I know you're angry that life turned out this way
The suicide line's busy. You've been on hold for days.
And you won't walk away because you're so afraid to change
I'll be there when your smile turns to rage
So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
If it makes you feel better
I don't understand how you grew to be so cold
So unlike the girl I knew when she was young
My tongue licking your wounds didn't help to ease the pain
I'll still be here when your sunshine turns to rain
I know that you know that it's wrong
I know that you can't put it down
The power fuels your hunger
And the hunger feeds your pain
I'm still here if you need someone to blame
So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
if it makes you feel better
The selection today comes from something I wrote over the course of several years. A lot of songs take only days, at least to get lyrics and a musical backbone. Others you start and then get distracted. I find that these are the hardest to finish because after so much time has passed you find yourself in a different place with a different mind set and a different take on things. Of course, some themes are so universal (or people do shit to you for so long) that you don't really forget them. In these cases, coming back can lend new insight or just let you get those few lines that were missing.
Neil Young, during an interview, said that he only wrote one song at a time because "songs are jealous." I don't think it's jealousy so much as selfishness. I tend to work on several at once, often with them feeding back and improving each other. But there are those occasional things that demand full attention or they refuse to come at all. This was one of the latter.
This is a song about letting people hurt you because you'd rather hurt than see them hurt (how many times can you use hurt in a sentence?). It's a sacrifice we all make at some point, but a lot of people (read: me) let it go too far and end up suffering for things that are completely out of their control. We also let it go on far too long, even when it's obvious that the sacrifice isn't enough to make someone else happy and never will be. So for all you people out there that ever let yourself hurt for someone else, this is for you.
Hurt Me
(Key of Gm)
Verse:
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm
Chorus:
C Dm(I) (x4)
Breakdown:
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III)/Dm(V)/C(III)/Dm(V) (stacatto) (x2)
Bb C(III)
Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm
I don't understand how you grew to be so mean
So unsympathetic and stepping on my dreams
When it's silence I need most that's when you want to scream
I'd do anything to ease your suffering
I know you're angry that life turned out this way
The suicide line's busy. You've been on hold for days.
And you won't walk away because you're so afraid to change
I'll be there when your smile turns to rage
So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
If it makes you feel better
I don't understand how you grew to be so cold
So unlike the girl I knew when she was young
My tongue licking your wounds didn't help to ease the pain
I'll still be here when your sunshine turns to rain
I know that you know that it's wrong
I know that you can't put it down
The power fuels your hunger
And the hunger feeds your pain
I'm still here if you need someone to blame
So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
if it makes you feel better
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Coalesce
I've always been a fan of the concept album. I appreciate the thought, talent, and work that goes into creating a musical ensemble that creates a larger picture or message with its individual pieces. I also like that each part must be understood on its own terms before being pieced into the larger story.
Concept albums are like ogres. They have layers.
Many moons ago, I tried my hand at a concept album. It was an abject failure in the sense that I only wrote four things and then lost focus. There was one thing that came out of it that I really liked. It's a song about loneliness and the things people do when they feel lonely. It's pretty old. I started it in high school and finished it a few years later. For some reason I thought of it today while I was driving home, so I had to find it and post it.
Coalesce
She leaves the tv on
just to feel like somebody cares.
Even the empty words
are better than the empty air.
"My patience may be wearing thin"
she says to her reflection.
"I just need a break from this
monotonous seduction.
In between the spaces where
we used to talk and keep our thoughts
There only lives the aftermath
of angry words we can’t take back."
As this feeling coalesces
she slips on unconsciousness
just to make a thicker skin.
Her own is wearing pretty thin.
She twists the strings of levity into
something only she can see.
A sacrificial offering
to the gods of Mirth and Mockery.
"It’s the crumbling façade"
she says.
"I’m the last horse on the carousel
and the circus wasn’t popular,
once they released the animals."
As this feeling coalesces into something
just a little bit untamed,
she slams on the brakes and says
"I never meant to feel this way."
Concept albums are like ogres. They have layers.
Many moons ago, I tried my hand at a concept album. It was an abject failure in the sense that I only wrote four things and then lost focus. There was one thing that came out of it that I really liked. It's a song about loneliness and the things people do when they feel lonely. It's pretty old. I started it in high school and finished it a few years later. For some reason I thought of it today while I was driving home, so I had to find it and post it.
Coalesce
She leaves the tv on
just to feel like somebody cares.
Even the empty words
are better than the empty air.
"My patience may be wearing thin"
she says to her reflection.
"I just need a break from this
monotonous seduction.
In between the spaces where
we used to talk and keep our thoughts
There only lives the aftermath
of angry words we can’t take back."
As this feeling coalesces
she slips on unconsciousness
just to make a thicker skin.
Her own is wearing pretty thin.
She twists the strings of levity into
something only she can see.
A sacrificial offering
to the gods of Mirth and Mockery.
"It’s the crumbling façade"
she says.
"I’m the last horse on the carousel
and the circus wasn’t popular,
once they released the animals."
As this feeling coalesces into something
just a little bit untamed,
she slams on the brakes and says
"I never meant to feel this way."
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
In Your Arms
It's been crazy the last few weeks. Baby related things, work travel, mountains of data, deciphering programs written in Russian...you know, the usual. On top of that my research position is ending in December so I'm preparing to switch to full time teaching, which involves wrapping up all my current projects and getting new ones started (it's an amazing amount of work to build a class from scratch).
In my spare time I've also been working on three new songs. Some people like to work on one thing at a time, but I find that jumping back and forth between a few different things helps when you get stuck. The song below is pretty self explanatory so I'm just going to let it ride. This is my third favorite thing I've written. Maybe not third best but definitely third favorite. Now that we have a piano in the house the music to this one may actually get finished since it's meant for piano. Enjoy.
Minor correction: This is an old song. It's my third favorite thing in my entire collection, not third favorite amongst the current crop. Just to clear up any confusion. By the time I get around to posting "new" stuff it's liable to be as old as this stuff is already.
In Your Arms
You are empty
I am full of pride
We can't back down
even though we’re so torn up inside
You're still hungry
and you just can't leave now
The show must go on
even if there is no crowd
I am the firefly in your jar
the one you shake when you want to smile
All I want to do is shine for you
or never shine again
You are glass
I'm leaving fingerprints on your surface
You are sharp
You've etched your name into my heart
I’m content
to stay by your side
or just be in the same room
It makes me feel like I'm alive
I am the caterpillar in your jar
just give me some time and I could be beautiful
I love you out from behind these walls
but it's never the same
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
I just want to be in your arms tonight
Pictures of you
rolling through my head
stealing my breath
until there’s nothing left inside
but these regrets
of all the things we’ve done to ourselves
Everything inside of me
has been corrupted by the girl I need
and all the gold in the world won’t bring her back
I miss you
The beating of your heart comforts me
Favor me
Favor me with one more sterling smile
before I leave
and all of this becomes a memory
I am the caterpillar in your jar
just give me some time and I could be beautiful
I love you out from behind these walls
but it's never the same
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
I just want to be in your arms tonight
In my spare time I've also been working on three new songs. Some people like to work on one thing at a time, but I find that jumping back and forth between a few different things helps when you get stuck. The song below is pretty self explanatory so I'm just going to let it ride. This is my third favorite thing I've written. Maybe not third best but definitely third favorite. Now that we have a piano in the house the music to this one may actually get finished since it's meant for piano. Enjoy.
Minor correction: This is an old song. It's my third favorite thing in my entire collection, not third favorite amongst the current crop. Just to clear up any confusion. By the time I get around to posting "new" stuff it's liable to be as old as this stuff is already.
In Your Arms
You are empty
I am full of pride
We can't back down
even though we’re so torn up inside
You're still hungry
and you just can't leave now
The show must go on
even if there is no crowd
I am the firefly in your jar
the one you shake when you want to smile
All I want to do is shine for you
or never shine again
You are glass
I'm leaving fingerprints on your surface
You are sharp
You've etched your name into my heart
I’m content
to stay by your side
or just be in the same room
It makes me feel like I'm alive
I am the caterpillar in your jar
just give me some time and I could be beautiful
I love you out from behind these walls
but it's never the same
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
I just want to be in your arms tonight
Pictures of you
rolling through my head
stealing my breath
until there’s nothing left inside
but these regrets
of all the things we’ve done to ourselves
Everything inside of me
has been corrupted by the girl I need
and all the gold in the world won’t bring her back
I miss you
The beating of your heart comforts me
Favor me
Favor me with one more sterling smile
before I leave
and all of this becomes a memory
I am the caterpillar in your jar
just give me some time and I could be beautiful
I love you out from behind these walls
but it's never the same
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
as being in your arms
I just want to be in your arms tonight
Friday, August 20, 2010
Debbie
If you write about things you don't know anything about, it comes across as fake. It's painfully obvious when a 12 year old sings about love and relationships that someone else wrote the song and the kid has no idea what they're singing about. It takes away from some of the emotion because it's disingenuous. I always thought you should write or paint or sing about what you know. After all, how can you make people think, feel, or understand something that you have never experienced? There's always room for some creative liberty but the central theme, ideas, and emotions invoked have to be real or people will recognize the work as fake and will ignore it.
That being said, I knew a harridan. She was a harpy then and I doubt anything has changed in the twelve years since I last saw her or in the decade or so since I wrote this. The choruses are about Debbie (hence the title), the verses are about her daughter. The song has a very back-and-forth feel, with the regular lines being sung while the lines in parentheses are spoken. This one always makes me a little sad because it's something I watched happen. We all do things that are hurtful at some point, but it's even worse when kids get caught in the middle. They learn from watching and imitating far more than they learn from being told.
Debbie
Debbie how could you leave your daughter cold?
Never taught her to love, only taught her how to own.
Debbie why did you leave a broken home?
Now your daughter's in pain, but you just walk away.
Keeping the day at bay with her sleeping pills,
(the light bores into her skull through the curtains)
the headache’s fierce, but less so than the truth
(mommy's gone and the house is getting dark)
She fills the night with cheap reflections,
(she reaches out for something steady)
tries to read but her eyes are failing
(now she's got no one to turn to)
Debbie, when will you see how she cries?
Never taught her to love, only taught her to despise.
Debbie, who died and made you such a selfish bitch?
Life was rough, so you take it out on your kids.
She falls in love, but don't know what it means
(the happiness is interpreted as guilt)
She takes her pills with an alcoholic kick
(her dreams are plain, but at least they're something)
Everything good was burned by her own two hands
(baby girl got caught in a cruel world)
Tried to save her, but her heart is growing numb
(don't give in, or you'll end up like your mom)
Debbie, what did you do to keep her down?
Never taught her to laugh, only taught her how to drown.
Debbie, I'd give my last breath
to save your daughter's smile and to warm her breast.
Debbie, look at the damage that we've done.
That being said, I knew a harridan. She was a harpy then and I doubt anything has changed in the twelve years since I last saw her or in the decade or so since I wrote this. The choruses are about Debbie (hence the title), the verses are about her daughter. The song has a very back-and-forth feel, with the regular lines being sung while the lines in parentheses are spoken. This one always makes me a little sad because it's something I watched happen. We all do things that are hurtful at some point, but it's even worse when kids get caught in the middle. They learn from watching and imitating far more than they learn from being told.
Debbie
Debbie how could you leave your daughter cold?
Never taught her to love, only taught her how to own.
Debbie why did you leave a broken home?
Now your daughter's in pain, but you just walk away.
Keeping the day at bay with her sleeping pills,
(the light bores into her skull through the curtains)
the headache’s fierce, but less so than the truth
(mommy's gone and the house is getting dark)
She fills the night with cheap reflections,
(she reaches out for something steady)
tries to read but her eyes are failing
(now she's got no one to turn to)
Debbie, when will you see how she cries?
Never taught her to love, only taught her to despise.
Debbie, who died and made you such a selfish bitch?
Life was rough, so you take it out on your kids.
She falls in love, but don't know what it means
(the happiness is interpreted as guilt)
She takes her pills with an alcoholic kick
(her dreams are plain, but at least they're something)
Everything good was burned by her own two hands
(baby girl got caught in a cruel world)
Tried to save her, but her heart is growing numb
(don't give in, or you'll end up like your mom)
Debbie, what did you do to keep her down?
Never taught her to laugh, only taught her how to drown.
Debbie, I'd give my last breath
to save your daughter's smile and to warm her breast.
Debbie, look at the damage that we've done.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Like I Do
I've spent a lot of my life people watching. Not creepy stalker watching. It's more of a fascination with the hilarious, cruel, illogical things we do. I can't stop. It must be some kind of sick voyeurism.
One common thread is that people in relationships do things that are absolutely, positively, unabashedly ridiculous. My favorite thing in this category is this: people that choose to end a relationship with someone that they know will always be there only to turn around and start a relationship (or a string of relationships) with a bunch of people that won't be there. I still don't understand and I don't think I ever will.
I know there are difficulties in any relationship, but finding someone that does, in fact, care for you unconditionally is such a rare thing. Why would you throw that away, only to turn around and give yourself to someone that doesn't care about you with any depth? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but people do it every day. I don't know...is it the greener grass syndrome, the fact that we're biologically predicated toward change, or some other factor that causes us to throw away people that are willing to take the time to know us and care about us for people that only appear to care? Whatever it is, we've all been there. That's the idea behind this song.
Musically, this is a little different. I don't typically compose riffs but this song is built around 3 little guitar riffs. Two of the riffs are played over the short choruses. The third is played over the final line of each verse. The first three lines of each verse are a simple D5/C5/A5 progression.
Like I Do
Nobody knows you
Nobody cares
Nobody sees you
Like I do
In the pale glass dawn
When you wake up all alone
Do you think of me?
Or do you just shrug off the cold?
I know it's been a few years
since the last time I heard your voice
but somebody mentioned your name
and it brought up all of the pain
The memory of your touch
still ripples across my skin
The heat of your eyes struck me numb
and your smile would still my tongue
Nobody feels you
Nobody cares
Nobody hurts you
Like I do
[Instrumental]
Nobody holds you
Nobody cares
Nobody trusts you
Like I do
On the long ride home,
the last time that we ever spoke
I swore you would fade with time
like a ghost into the fog
Truth is I couldn't forget you
so instead I swallowed the shame
And just kept on pretending
That everything was ok
I knew you were searching
for something that you didn't see
I would be there to catch you
When you finally found it was me
But you reached a different conclusion
and wound up being alone
Now do you see me as you turn out the lights
and the nights get longer and cold?
Nobody knows you
Nobody cares
Nobody loves you
Like I do
One common thread is that people in relationships do things that are absolutely, positively, unabashedly ridiculous. My favorite thing in this category is this: people that choose to end a relationship with someone that they know will always be there only to turn around and start a relationship (or a string of relationships) with a bunch of people that won't be there. I still don't understand and I don't think I ever will.
I know there are difficulties in any relationship, but finding someone that does, in fact, care for you unconditionally is such a rare thing. Why would you throw that away, only to turn around and give yourself to someone that doesn't care about you with any depth? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but people do it every day. I don't know...is it the greener grass syndrome, the fact that we're biologically predicated toward change, or some other factor that causes us to throw away people that are willing to take the time to know us and care about us for people that only appear to care? Whatever it is, we've all been there. That's the idea behind this song.
Musically, this is a little different. I don't typically compose riffs but this song is built around 3 little guitar riffs. Two of the riffs are played over the short choruses. The third is played over the final line of each verse. The first three lines of each verse are a simple D5/C5/A5 progression.
Like I Do
Nobody knows you
Nobody cares
Nobody sees you
Like I do
In the pale glass dawn
When you wake up all alone
Do you think of me?
Or do you just shrug off the cold?
I know it's been a few years
since the last time I heard your voice
but somebody mentioned your name
and it brought up all of the pain
The memory of your touch
still ripples across my skin
The heat of your eyes struck me numb
and your smile would still my tongue
Nobody feels you
Nobody cares
Nobody hurts you
Like I do
[Instrumental]
Nobody holds you
Nobody cares
Nobody trusts you
Like I do
On the long ride home,
the last time that we ever spoke
I swore you would fade with time
like a ghost into the fog
Truth is I couldn't forget you
so instead I swallowed the shame
And just kept on pretending
That everything was ok
I knew you were searching
for something that you didn't see
I would be there to catch you
When you finally found it was me
But you reached a different conclusion
and wound up being alone
Now do you see me as you turn out the lights
and the nights get longer and cold?
Nobody knows you
Nobody cares
Nobody loves you
Like I do
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
D Pedal
This is my latest creation and I wanted to talk about the composition and process for a bit since they were both complex. I've been writing lyrics since I was in high school and (somewhat) writing music since college. While the lyrics range from the very simple to the very complex, the music tends to be extraordinarily simple. I don't compose melodies. The lyrics are the melody. That's where I always put the focus because I'm a lyrically driven song writer and listener. If I don't like the lyrics it makes it much harder for me to like the song. And good lyrics will often overcome bad music for me. My chords are there to set the mood, keep the rhythm, and make things more interesting. That's why almost everything I put chords to contains only simple rhythm chords. If I'm not feeling lyrically inclined, I will just fiddle with chords for hours until I hit on a chord or combination that evokes a few lines. Once those lines are in place, the rest tends to follow (eventually).
That's how this song evolved- I had the first four chords and, after playing them for awhile, I got the first two lines. It then sat dormant for several years. About a month ago I was fiddling around with it again, just playing it over and over and then the next two lines came. After that, it went pretty fast, writing itself in less than a week. One of those fortuitous happenstances I guess, where the chords and the first few lines reminded me of something current that I could use to keep going. I find that happens a lot- something I started years ago but never finished becomes the basis for something today or music I've had laying around for a decade finally gets lyrics worth keeping. Just goes to show- never throw out your creative work.
It's often very difficult to move from verse to chorus to verse. You want to maintain the idea but change up the rhythm, sound, or style. You also want to find a set of chords that play nicely but differently and, eventually, loop back to where you started with a natural sound. This is possibly the most musically complex song I've done, so I thought I'd post a bit about it as well.
The song uses a neat musical trick called a pedal (hence the post title). The trick involves using different chords but all of those chords share a note. In this case, you'll notice most of the chords have a D title. The key of D contains a single sharp (F#) and every chord in the progression I've used is rooted on the D an octave above middle C (for those of you that know your music notation). When you play it on guitar, your ring finger never leaves D on the 2nd string. The pedal helps tie the song together, giving you a constant reference point and a musical focus.
As for the lyrics- the song is quite simply about people that build their own walls and then refuse to ask for help to tear them down. The first part is about wanting something so bad you hold on for dear life, the second part is about not being willing to compromise even to get what you want, and the last part is a split- it's part realizing what you are doing and part having someone else realize you are still locking them out even when they're willing to help.
Note: I've written a ton of stuff (and easily thrown out triple that while editing). This is one of my favorites- definitely top ten and possibly even top five.
Saved
Verses: D5 Dsus2
Gsus2 G/B
Csus2 Cadd9 D
Chorus: D5/F Cadd9 Dsus4/G D/F#
D5/F Dsus4/G D/F#
D5/F Cadd9
D5/F Cadd9
D5/F Dsus4/G D/F#
She’s the first to know
but the last to go
even though it’s hopeless
She’ll fight on ‘til the end
just to say she did
even when she can’t win
The boys that she finds
become the men she’ll despise
when her heart comes back to Earth
She’s just a girl in his mind
She wants to be a woman in his eyes
even with the price her self-worth
No one knows where she goes
when she wants to cry
She brings it on herself
a damsel in distress
She won’t let herself be saved
She clings to her pride
like a blushing bride
It’s a place to hide
But it doesn’t keep her warm
or protect her from the storm
that soaks her to the bone
The pieces of her life
float by in black and white
She never could see the gray
The middle ground she needs
was flooded too deep
She hates appearing weak
No one knows where she goes
when she needs to cry
She brings it on herself
this damsel in distress
who won’t let herself be saved
She holds on way too long
Long after he is gone
Long after he’s moved on
She tries so hard to fix
mistakes that were his
She can’t let done be done
It’s these faults I adore
down to her neurotic core
They keep me at her door
But she’ll never let me in
any deeper than her skin
It’s too hard to begin again
No one know where she goes
when she wants to cry
She brings it on herself
She's just a damsel in distress
Who won’t let herself be saved
No one knows where she goes
or why she hurts herself
She cannot escape
the walls that she creates
but she won’t let herself be saved
No, she won’t let herself be saved
That's how this song evolved- I had the first four chords and, after playing them for awhile, I got the first two lines. It then sat dormant for several years. About a month ago I was fiddling around with it again, just playing it over and over and then the next two lines came. After that, it went pretty fast, writing itself in less than a week. One of those fortuitous happenstances I guess, where the chords and the first few lines reminded me of something current that I could use to keep going. I find that happens a lot- something I started years ago but never finished becomes the basis for something today or music I've had laying around for a decade finally gets lyrics worth keeping. Just goes to show- never throw out your creative work.
It's often very difficult to move from verse to chorus to verse. You want to maintain the idea but change up the rhythm, sound, or style. You also want to find a set of chords that play nicely but differently and, eventually, loop back to where you started with a natural sound. This is possibly the most musically complex song I've done, so I thought I'd post a bit about it as well.
The song uses a neat musical trick called a pedal (hence the post title). The trick involves using different chords but all of those chords share a note. In this case, you'll notice most of the chords have a D title. The key of D contains a single sharp (F#) and every chord in the progression I've used is rooted on the D an octave above middle C (for those of you that know your music notation). When you play it on guitar, your ring finger never leaves D on the 2nd string. The pedal helps tie the song together, giving you a constant reference point and a musical focus.
As for the lyrics- the song is quite simply about people that build their own walls and then refuse to ask for help to tear them down. The first part is about wanting something so bad you hold on for dear life, the second part is about not being willing to compromise even to get what you want, and the last part is a split- it's part realizing what you are doing and part having someone else realize you are still locking them out even when they're willing to help.
Note: I've written a ton of stuff (and easily thrown out triple that while editing). This is one of my favorites- definitely top ten and possibly even top five.
Saved
Verses: D5 Dsus2
Gsus2 G/B
Csus2 Cadd9 D
Chorus: D5/F Cadd9 Dsus4/G D/F#
D5/F Dsus4/G D/F#
D5/F Cadd9
D5/F Cadd9
D5/F Dsus4/G D/F#
She’s the first to know
but the last to go
even though it’s hopeless
She’ll fight on ‘til the end
just to say she did
even when she can’t win
The boys that she finds
become the men she’ll despise
when her heart comes back to Earth
She’s just a girl in his mind
She wants to be a woman in his eyes
even with the price her self-worth
No one knows where she goes
when she wants to cry
She brings it on herself
a damsel in distress
She won’t let herself be saved
She clings to her pride
like a blushing bride
It’s a place to hide
But it doesn’t keep her warm
or protect her from the storm
that soaks her to the bone
The pieces of her life
float by in black and white
She never could see the gray
The middle ground she needs
was flooded too deep
She hates appearing weak
No one knows where she goes
when she needs to cry
She brings it on herself
this damsel in distress
who won’t let herself be saved
She holds on way too long
Long after he is gone
Long after he’s moved on
She tries so hard to fix
mistakes that were his
She can’t let done be done
It’s these faults I adore
down to her neurotic core
They keep me at her door
But she’ll never let me in
any deeper than her skin
It’s too hard to begin again
No one know where she goes
when she wants to cry
She brings it on herself
She's just a damsel in distress
Who won’t let herself be saved
No one knows where she goes
or why she hurts herself
She cannot escape
the walls that she creates
but she won’t let herself be saved
No, she won’t let herself be saved
Friday, July 23, 2010
I like mine better than Death Cab's
I wasn't expecting the onslaught of album reviews from Adam, but I suggest you read them because they are entertaining and he spends more time listening to music in one day than most people do in a week. Also, I would suggest listening to any albums he recommends because they're usually worth becoming intimate friends with. Without his recommendations I would never have found the awesomeness that is Jenny Lewis.
For myself, I'm picking a different type of song to post than my previous few. For some reason, over the course of my life, I've attracted more than my share of people that are broken. We all have moments when we need someone. But some of us are just inclined to savage bouts of emotional self-torture (myself included). I must have a "Troubled People Need Apply" sign on me that I am unaware of, because they always seem to find me. I'm the ghost whisperer of emotionally troubled people, but without the huge rack and huge paycheck.
To me these people are projects, a chance to fix in them what I can't seem to fix in myself, and for whatever reason I just can't say no. I'm not sure whether it's because I like that they depend on me or the power I have over them or the rush of knowing that someone in the depths of misery now has a chance to keep going forward. No matter the reason for me putting them back together, it's devastating to watch them slide right back into those patterns that created the problem. That happens far too often. Sometimes I think it's because people need misery but mostly I think it's because we're creatures of habit more than we are creatures of common sense. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that empathy, sympathy, and my own time, energy, and tears are no guarantee that putting someone back together emotionally and psychologically will make them any stronger than they were before they came into my life. That's really the story this song tells- watching someone self-destruct, doing all you can to be there for them, and still not having the power to stop it. It's not about futility or fatalism- it's about being utterly helpless but pushing on anyway.
Some years ago my home town had a pretty serious fire, to the point where a large portion of the town was surrounded by 15 foot walls of flame. While watching it all happen, it became more than just a fire. It became an analogy and a metaphor for those emotionally and psychologically fragile people that I couldn't help. It became a setting; an external, physical backdrop for the internal, emotional turmoil.
(Sorry Death Cab- as much as I love everything you do, I like my fire song better. It's a bit biased, but there you have it.)
Ashes fall
Every time she walks into the room with that bottle in her hand
I know it’s going to be a long, long night
Her brain is full of whiskey and her heart is full of gin
and her body’s telling me to get the lights
She hits the bed like fire then her body turns to ice
She falls asleep in nothing but her bra
I’m standing in the doorway that leads into the room
hoping that she’ll get well soon
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch
The ashes fall like rain outside my window pane
as she takes another drink like it would help put out the flames
She leaves the house in style with a slit up past her thigh
She stands out on the corner so that all the boys can see
Her tongue it burns like lightning as she screams into the sky
Calling for another round to help forget her life
She’s jaded and she’s used, she’s jagged and abused
Her skin is smooth but her soul is badly bruised
To her I’m just the place she’ll turn when anger’s run its course
I’m the one that will forgive her, even though it hurts
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch
The ashes on the breeze find me on my knees
praying that she’ll find a way to conquer this disease
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do to quench the flames
While the ashes fall like snow through the orange and hellish glow
I cradle her against the heat as she cries herself to sleep
For myself, I'm picking a different type of song to post than my previous few. For some reason, over the course of my life, I've attracted more than my share of people that are broken. We all have moments when we need someone. But some of us are just inclined to savage bouts of emotional self-torture (myself included). I must have a "Troubled People Need Apply" sign on me that I am unaware of, because they always seem to find me. I'm the ghost whisperer of emotionally troubled people, but without the huge rack and huge paycheck.
To me these people are projects, a chance to fix in them what I can't seem to fix in myself, and for whatever reason I just can't say no. I'm not sure whether it's because I like that they depend on me or the power I have over them or the rush of knowing that someone in the depths of misery now has a chance to keep going forward. No matter the reason for me putting them back together, it's devastating to watch them slide right back into those patterns that created the problem. That happens far too often. Sometimes I think it's because people need misery but mostly I think it's because we're creatures of habit more than we are creatures of common sense. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that empathy, sympathy, and my own time, energy, and tears are no guarantee that putting someone back together emotionally and psychologically will make them any stronger than they were before they came into my life. That's really the story this song tells- watching someone self-destruct, doing all you can to be there for them, and still not having the power to stop it. It's not about futility or fatalism- it's about being utterly helpless but pushing on anyway.
Some years ago my home town had a pretty serious fire, to the point where a large portion of the town was surrounded by 15 foot walls of flame. While watching it all happen, it became more than just a fire. It became an analogy and a metaphor for those emotionally and psychologically fragile people that I couldn't help. It became a setting; an external, physical backdrop for the internal, emotional turmoil.
(Sorry Death Cab- as much as I love everything you do, I like my fire song better. It's a bit biased, but there you have it.)
Ashes fall
Every time she walks into the room with that bottle in her hand
I know it’s going to be a long, long night
Her brain is full of whiskey and her heart is full of gin
and her body’s telling me to get the lights
She hits the bed like fire then her body turns to ice
She falls asleep in nothing but her bra
I’m standing in the doorway that leads into the room
hoping that she’ll get well soon
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch
The ashes fall like rain outside my window pane
as she takes another drink like it would help put out the flames
She leaves the house in style with a slit up past her thigh
She stands out on the corner so that all the boys can see
Her tongue it burns like lightning as she screams into the sky
Calling for another round to help forget her life
She’s jaded and she’s used, she’s jagged and abused
Her skin is smooth but her soul is badly bruised
To her I’m just the place she’ll turn when anger’s run its course
I’m the one that will forgive her, even though it hurts
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch
The ashes on the breeze find me on my knees
praying that she’ll find a way to conquer this disease
My town is burning down tonight
There’s nothing I can do to quench the flames
While the ashes fall like snow through the orange and hellish glow
I cradle her against the heat as she cries herself to sleep
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Stories
All great songs have a story behind them. They may not specifically tell a story but they do capture a moment or an emotion and try to put the listener into it. There are songs I really never liked until I learned the story behind them (a la Rob Thomas and Her Diamonds).
This song is about relationships and the stories that we write as people- the things we say and do, whether we really mean them or not. Any relationship has lots of stories: the physical story of the course of the relationship, the emotional ride, the individual events you remember when all else is forgotten. At the heart of every relationship there is what we call the love story. It's hard to define but we all know what it is, whether from personal experience, books, or movies. I'm guessing most people have also experienced relationships where that story was never written or was written too fast and too soon to really take hold. This song is about those stories.
Love Story
Verses:
Bm F#m Em A
Chorus
D G D/F# A
Said she's gonna join the circus
Said she's gonna be a star
Said she'd walk a mile in my shoes
She didn't get very far
Said she's gonna be a hero
Said she's gonna win the war
After all of these years in the trenches
She can't remember what she's fighting for
Don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change
you better make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that keeps me coming back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
when you're the one that walked out the door
So how 'bout stepping down
and giving back that crown
You never really earned it anyway
You just stole if from the last fairy princess
to walk into the room
And declare for the world to hear that
she's better than you
Now don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change, girl,
you gotta make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that kept me crawling back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
when you're the one that wanted the door
She gave me her heart, she gave me her soul
then she took them both back
She said "I know it's a dirty thing my friend,
but love is like the wind"
Don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change
you need to make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that kept me crawling back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
because you're the one that walked out the door
You told me you were evil
but you don't know half the truth
I guess love's the kind of word
that you threw around in your youth
But when you're old and alone, girl,
don't come bitching to me
In all the shit between us
there never was a love story
This song is about relationships and the stories that we write as people- the things we say and do, whether we really mean them or not. Any relationship has lots of stories: the physical story of the course of the relationship, the emotional ride, the individual events you remember when all else is forgotten. At the heart of every relationship there is what we call the love story. It's hard to define but we all know what it is, whether from personal experience, books, or movies. I'm guessing most people have also experienced relationships where that story was never written or was written too fast and too soon to really take hold. This song is about those stories.
Love Story
Verses:
Bm F#m Em A
Chorus
D G D/F# A
Said she's gonna join the circus
Said she's gonna be a star
Said she'd walk a mile in my shoes
She didn't get very far
Said she's gonna be a hero
Said she's gonna win the war
After all of these years in the trenches
She can't remember what she's fighting for
Don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change
you better make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that keeps me coming back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
when you're the one that walked out the door
So how 'bout stepping down
and giving back that crown
You never really earned it anyway
You just stole if from the last fairy princess
to walk into the room
And declare for the world to hear that
she's better than you
Now don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change, girl,
you gotta make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that kept me crawling back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
when you're the one that wanted the door
She gave me her heart, she gave me her soul
then she took them both back
She said "I know it's a dirty thing my friend,
but love is like the wind"
Don't you look at me
before you take a look at yourself
If you're gonna make a change
you need to make it for the best
It's a sordid state of affairs
that kept me crawling back for more
But I'm not gonna cry
because you're the one that walked out the door
You told me you were evil
but you don't know half the truth
I guess love's the kind of word
that you threw around in your youth
But when you're old and alone, girl,
don't come bitching to me
In all the shit between us
there never was a love story
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Answer
It's funny how even when people really hurt you, there's always that part of you that wants to hold on. Whether it's fear of something new and different, fear of losing someone, wanting to hold onto a friend after a relationship falls apart...there are a thousand reasons for holding onto something painful. And there are a thousand ways to justify putting up with the pain even when everyone else says it's not worth it. This is a song about holding on. It's a song about knowing that things are bad but not being willing to let go completely. At its heart, it's really about not giving up when things are bleak, even when what you're holding onto may not be the best thing for you.
The Answer
I am not the answer to your questions or your guilt
You’re blaming me for everything and I wasn't even there
We’re walking by the ocean throwing shells and casting stones
Knowing full damn well that we’re too scared to be alone.
It’s easier to say goodbye than it is to be forgiven.
I’m holding on to apathy to keep myself from feeling.
What little fabric I left has slowly come unraveled
I can feel your nails sink in, ripping this hole wider.
These days are not worth keeping, but we still go on speaking,
Even though the words are stale
My broken heart is bleeding, but still we go on speaking
Even though the words are late
I just want to know, what is this love made of
and are we going to make it through the night?
You don't have to answer now, we've still got a couple hours
before the sunlight washes out the dark.
You’re sleeping so serenely, it really is deceiving
No one would ever know that we just fight
Your silent accusations leave me begging for your touch
Even though you’re bad for me, I never get enough
These promises are broken like the shadows on my wall
The anger in your parting words still echoes down the hall
The part of me that hates you most is pushing you away
The part of me that hurts the most is begging you to stay
These days are not worth keeping, but we still go on speaking,
though the words are just too late
I just want to know, what is this love made of
and are we going to make it through the night?
You don't have to answer now, we've still got a couple hours
before the sunlight washes out the dark.
These days are not worth keeping,
but we still go on screaming,
and trying to pretend that we’re in love
The Answer
I am not the answer to your questions or your guilt
You’re blaming me for everything and I wasn't even there
We’re walking by the ocean throwing shells and casting stones
Knowing full damn well that we’re too scared to be alone.
It’s easier to say goodbye than it is to be forgiven.
I’m holding on to apathy to keep myself from feeling.
What little fabric I left has slowly come unraveled
I can feel your nails sink in, ripping this hole wider.
These days are not worth keeping, but we still go on speaking,
Even though the words are stale
My broken heart is bleeding, but still we go on speaking
Even though the words are late
I just want to know, what is this love made of
and are we going to make it through the night?
You don't have to answer now, we've still got a couple hours
before the sunlight washes out the dark.
You’re sleeping so serenely, it really is deceiving
No one would ever know that we just fight
Your silent accusations leave me begging for your touch
Even though you’re bad for me, I never get enough
These promises are broken like the shadows on my wall
The anger in your parting words still echoes down the hall
The part of me that hates you most is pushing you away
The part of me that hurts the most is begging you to stay
These days are not worth keeping, but we still go on speaking,
though the words are just too late
I just want to know, what is this love made of
and are we going to make it through the night?
You don't have to answer now, we've still got a couple hours
before the sunlight washes out the dark.
These days are not worth keeping,
but we still go on screaming,
and trying to pretend that we’re in love
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Inspiration comes from strange places
I used to walk home from the bus everyday in grad school. On the way I passed a church (two if I wasn't paying attention and took the wrong stop). This church always had little sayings and such on a sign out front that they changed once or twice a month. The messages were always along the lines of how Jesus wanted you to do this or that or how God was going to be upset because of things humans were doing. Like most things these messages got me to thinking. And the one thought that was always consistent was "If Jesus came back he'd be laughed at, ridiculed, and booed off stage." Here's a man that taught compassion, love, and social revolution in the name of the poor and we've taken those messages and twisted them around so much that I doubt he'd even recognize them anymore. If Jesus came back and actually declared himself and told everyone they were wrong I don't doubt he'd be chased out of town with torches and pitchforks. I got to thinking "what if Jesus actually did come back to Earth?" So I wrote a song about it.
Jesus Came
Jesus came to Earth today
There was no one to save
So he took his sandals off
and climbed back up on his cross
The teacher said "What's done is done
You can't change the past.
If you spend your days in prayer
you'll waste the time you have left"
The preacher said "Trust me my son
and you will find peace
Just bow your head in prayer
and believe in faith"
Now Chelsea's driving with the headlights off
because she wants to know
what it's like to be a lamb of God
and kept in the dark
Sarah's staring out the window pane
at another life
She's so damn sanctified
she can't go outside
'Cause life is hard
and the world is bad
We'd rather talk
than lend a hand
Effort is hard
and we must commit
Instead it's better
to ride this fence
Jesus came to Earth today
I passed him on the street
He moved with a heavy heart
and a limp from the nails in his feet
Jesus came to Earth today
but there was no one to save
So he took his sandals off
and climbed back up on his cross
Jesus smiled as he slowly died
and with his last breath he said
"If you act like Goddamned fools
you deserve what fools get."
Jesus Came
Jesus came to Earth today
There was no one to save
So he took his sandals off
and climbed back up on his cross
The teacher said "What's done is done
You can't change the past.
If you spend your days in prayer
you'll waste the time you have left"
The preacher said "Trust me my son
and you will find peace
Just bow your head in prayer
and believe in faith"
Now Chelsea's driving with the headlights off
because she wants to know
what it's like to be a lamb of God
and kept in the dark
Sarah's staring out the window pane
at another life
She's so damn sanctified
she can't go outside
'Cause life is hard
and the world is bad
We'd rather talk
than lend a hand
Effort is hard
and we must commit
Instead it's better
to ride this fence
Jesus came to Earth today
I passed him on the street
He moved with a heavy heart
and a limp from the nails in his feet
Jesus came to Earth today
but there was no one to save
So he took his sandals off
and climbed back up on his cross
Jesus smiled as he slowly died
and with his last breath he said
"If you act like Goddamned fools
you deserve what fools get."
Friday, May 14, 2010
A slight change of pace
Mostly this place has been somewhere to rant about the inconsistencies of people and to have a good vent. But there's only so much you can do with that before it gets stale and you start seeing the same crap with a new name. So I'm making a change.
I was digging through my old files yesterday to find some lines I vaguely remember writing down that would fit a song I'm working on. After digging around I realized that I've written more songs than most bands will ever put out. Of course, that doesn't make them good. It just surprised me how many I had. I always thought my output was low at best. Most don't have full music. In fact, most just have a melody or a very basic chord structure. I got to thinking that, if I keel over tomorrow, no one would ever know these exist. So I thought I should put them out there. After all, is art really art if there isn't anyone to interpret it or take meaning from it besides the artist? I can make my own meaning and I do it solely for myself, but I think true art is about seeing things in work that even the artist doesn't see. So here is mine.
I'll probably only post lyrics since chords, timing, and other musical stuff is hard to type up. I won't post poems or stories for the simple fact that, if I ever do actually want to attempt to publish anything, I don't want issues with publishers saying "it's already been published", even if on a backwater blog that no one reads. Since no one publishes lyrics I think that's a good compromise.
A short blurb is in order at this point. My inspiration to create comes from a dark place. I write best when I'm sad or angry. So don't expect a lot of happy, dwarf whistling tunes. I'm working on a few but mostly I write sad, tragic, or angry pieces. Not "bitches, hoes, and guns" type angry. More frustration angry. I'm also partial to tragic stories. Like my brother I tend to prefer tragic songs that have a ring of hope (think "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie). Although, in my own interpretations, I often find that "sad" songs are really quite moving and hopeful and, underneath, happy, if you really delve into them, even if they don't include an explicit hook.
So enjoy. If you like them, that's great. If not...well, maybe you'll find one you do. But I also didn't write them to please anyone else. I wrote them for me and to help me deal with things. I'm happy to discuss them or tell you the story behind them if you want to know why I chose a particular theme or name. And if you have an idea for music or an addition/subtraction to the piece please chime in. Art can be a very good collaborative process. But I retain final cut of the lyrics, so please don't be offended if I think your contribution doesn't fit the mood I was going for.
Sleeping Beauty
(fast tempo, rock feel)
Devil's in the kitchen
Devil's in the kitchen
Devil's in the kitchen
And she's calling out my name
Early morning sunrise
was peeking through the curtains
when I woke up and caught you sneaking in
Then against my better sense,
I forgave you for your sins
and all you did was break my heart again
It goes against my intuition
all these things I never mention
Like how you kept me down and fed me lies
Your secrets were not misconstrued
and all that I can say for you
is you didn't hurt me bad enough to die
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that you will ever see
She's Sleeping Beauty
with no dress on
Yeah being subtle never was her thing
Trying to live down all those lies
still staring at me with those accusing eyes
like I should still owe you a happy life
Every time I tell you that
I love you more than life itself
you just smile at me and say “It’s better this way”
All your passes are rejected
desperate call are disconnected
I don't know how it ever got this bad
Just another sweaty night
in the back of a Cadillac holding tightly
to a dream that just don't seem to die
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that I will ever be
She's Sleeping Beauty
with no dress on
and being feminine never was her thing
I’m alone even when you’re here
Your body’s cold and your eyes are steel
You always wanted what you couldn’t have
I can finally recognize
that you don’t love you idolize
and all the shit you have can’t make you smile
Don’t it hurt to realize
there’s nothing there but stupid pride
and it won’t keep you warm when all this dies
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that you will ever see
Like sleeping beauty
with no dress on
Being subtle never was her thing
I was digging through my old files yesterday to find some lines I vaguely remember writing down that would fit a song I'm working on. After digging around I realized that I've written more songs than most bands will ever put out. Of course, that doesn't make them good. It just surprised me how many I had. I always thought my output was low at best. Most don't have full music. In fact, most just have a melody or a very basic chord structure. I got to thinking that, if I keel over tomorrow, no one would ever know these exist. So I thought I should put them out there. After all, is art really art if there isn't anyone to interpret it or take meaning from it besides the artist? I can make my own meaning and I do it solely for myself, but I think true art is about seeing things in work that even the artist doesn't see. So here is mine.
I'll probably only post lyrics since chords, timing, and other musical stuff is hard to type up. I won't post poems or stories for the simple fact that, if I ever do actually want to attempt to publish anything, I don't want issues with publishers saying "it's already been published", even if on a backwater blog that no one reads. Since no one publishes lyrics I think that's a good compromise.
A short blurb is in order at this point. My inspiration to create comes from a dark place. I write best when I'm sad or angry. So don't expect a lot of happy, dwarf whistling tunes. I'm working on a few but mostly I write sad, tragic, or angry pieces. Not "bitches, hoes, and guns" type angry. More frustration angry. I'm also partial to tragic stories. Like my brother I tend to prefer tragic songs that have a ring of hope (think "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie). Although, in my own interpretations, I often find that "sad" songs are really quite moving and hopeful and, underneath, happy, if you really delve into them, even if they don't include an explicit hook.
So enjoy. If you like them, that's great. If not...well, maybe you'll find one you do. But I also didn't write them to please anyone else. I wrote them for me and to help me deal with things. I'm happy to discuss them or tell you the story behind them if you want to know why I chose a particular theme or name. And if you have an idea for music or an addition/subtraction to the piece please chime in. Art can be a very good collaborative process. But I retain final cut of the lyrics, so please don't be offended if I think your contribution doesn't fit the mood I was going for.
Sleeping Beauty
(fast tempo, rock feel)
Devil's in the kitchen
Devil's in the kitchen
Devil's in the kitchen
And she's calling out my name
Early morning sunrise
was peeking through the curtains
when I woke up and caught you sneaking in
Then against my better sense,
I forgave you for your sins
and all you did was break my heart again
It goes against my intuition
all these things I never mention
Like how you kept me down and fed me lies
Your secrets were not misconstrued
and all that I can say for you
is you didn't hurt me bad enough to die
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that you will ever see
She's Sleeping Beauty
with no dress on
Yeah being subtle never was her thing
Trying to live down all those lies
still staring at me with those accusing eyes
like I should still owe you a happy life
Every time I tell you that
I love you more than life itself
you just smile at me and say “It’s better this way”
All your passes are rejected
desperate call are disconnected
I don't know how it ever got this bad
Just another sweaty night
in the back of a Cadillac holding tightly
to a dream that just don't seem to die
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that I will ever be
She's Sleeping Beauty
with no dress on
and being feminine never was her thing
I’m alone even when you’re here
Your body’s cold and your eyes are steel
You always wanted what you couldn’t have
I can finally recognize
that you don’t love you idolize
and all the shit you have can’t make you smile
Don’t it hurt to realize
there’s nothing there but stupid pride
and it won’t keep you warm when all this dies
You can break me
but you can't change me
I am what I am and that's all that you will ever see
Like sleeping beauty
with no dress on
Being subtle never was her thing
Saturday, April 3, 2010
It's sad when people don't even know the definitions of the words they use
I often wonder who has the harder life- intelligent or stupid people. I think it has to be intelligent. Stupid people have it easier because they're just blissfully ignorant of things, they don't take the time to think about anything, and they reduce everything to the most simple form to avoid complexity. I should clarify- most of the time I don't find most people stupid. Everyone knows how to do something really well or understands something in depth that I've never learned. When I say stupid I mean people that don't bother to learn at all, people that ignore the world around them, or people that think that changing their understanding of the world makes them weak.
I was thinking this because I was informed today that "..that's supply and demand. It's what our economy used to run on." (That is a direct quote). My wheels started turning, the hamster increased its pace, and I pondered that statement. It's a statement in various forms I've heard several times lately, mostly from people or organizations that believe America is "turning Socialist" (even though they also misuse that word, but that's a different story).
Here's the problem though. Supply and demand only truly applies to marketplaces in which a very large number of sellers provide nearly identical products or services to a large number of buyers (also called a perfectly competitive market). That's the definition that's been in use practically since Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations. As far as I'm aware, America still participates in that type of economic activity for those types of products. You know- things like shampoo, potato chips, and hammers. Things that are pretty standard and have easy substitutes from other sellers.
Supply and demand, however, does not work very well or apply nearly as easily in situations where a small number of firms controls the market (e.g. cable TV, health care, insurance, phone service, etc). That is an OLIGOPOLY and oligopolies do not necessarily follow the rules of supply and demand. Why? Because oligopolies have the power to set prices above a true market rate. Why can they do this? The lack of alternative sources for the product or service means that the oligopoly holds all of the pricing power. Everyone must go to the few firms that supply the product or service, so they can charge whatever they want. I mean, when you need cable TV, how many options do you have? In my neck of the woods, there are two options. Since I'm a captive consumer to these two companies, they hold all the pricing power and I must take what is offered. This is not really supply and demand. Industries that run on supply and demand cannot set prices above the going price because there are so many alternative sources of their service or product.
Therefore, the most logical conclusion (and the one that can be directly observed- just go to the nearest grocery store or mall) is that America does, in fact, run on supply and demand but only for those products and services with large numbers of sellers and buyers in a highly competitive marketplace. Things like cell phones, credit cards, and insurance work under oligopolies and monopolies and those things do not always follow supply and demand, no matter how much you think they do or should.
Stupid people apparently have the ability make claims about things like economics but not even use the words correctly. I wish I had that ability sometimes. It frees you of responsibility for what you say and do because even when people point out you're completely wrong you can just keep on going under the premise that believing something automatically makes it true.
Anyway, if you're going to make claims about America's macroeconomic behavior, policy, or direction please make sure you understand the terminology. Otherwise, your input is less than useless and just adds to bad rhetoric instead of fixing the issue at hand.
I was thinking this because I was informed today that "..that's supply and demand. It's what our economy used to run on." (That is a direct quote). My wheels started turning, the hamster increased its pace, and I pondered that statement. It's a statement in various forms I've heard several times lately, mostly from people or organizations that believe America is "turning Socialist" (even though they also misuse that word, but that's a different story).
Here's the problem though. Supply and demand only truly applies to marketplaces in which a very large number of sellers provide nearly identical products or services to a large number of buyers (also called a perfectly competitive market). That's the definition that's been in use practically since Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations. As far as I'm aware, America still participates in that type of economic activity for those types of products. You know- things like shampoo, potato chips, and hammers. Things that are pretty standard and have easy substitutes from other sellers.
Supply and demand, however, does not work very well or apply nearly as easily in situations where a small number of firms controls the market (e.g. cable TV, health care, insurance, phone service, etc). That is an OLIGOPOLY and oligopolies do not necessarily follow the rules of supply and demand. Why? Because oligopolies have the power to set prices above a true market rate. Why can they do this? The lack of alternative sources for the product or service means that the oligopoly holds all of the pricing power. Everyone must go to the few firms that supply the product or service, so they can charge whatever they want. I mean, when you need cable TV, how many options do you have? In my neck of the woods, there are two options. Since I'm a captive consumer to these two companies, they hold all the pricing power and I must take what is offered. This is not really supply and demand. Industries that run on supply and demand cannot set prices above the going price because there are so many alternative sources of their service or product.
Therefore, the most logical conclusion (and the one that can be directly observed- just go to the nearest grocery store or mall) is that America does, in fact, run on supply and demand but only for those products and services with large numbers of sellers and buyers in a highly competitive marketplace. Things like cell phones, credit cards, and insurance work under oligopolies and monopolies and those things do not always follow supply and demand, no matter how much you think they do or should.
Stupid people apparently have the ability make claims about things like economics but not even use the words correctly. I wish I had that ability sometimes. It frees you of responsibility for what you say and do because even when people point out you're completely wrong you can just keep on going under the premise that believing something automatically makes it true.
Anyway, if you're going to make claims about America's macroeconomic behavior, policy, or direction please make sure you understand the terminology. Otherwise, your input is less than useless and just adds to bad rhetoric instead of fixing the issue at hand.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)