This may be somewhat of a contemplative post, or at least prelude to the rest of it, but please bear with me. I sit here, pensive and listening to Kenny Chesney's "Sing 'Em Good My Friend" on repeat, having spent much of yesterday in a beautiful, heartfelt, and hopeful daydream, only to come into work today and realise just how foolish and unrealistic and 'never-gonna-happen-at-least-not-with-you-have-you-ever-looked-in-a-mirror-or-in-the-past?-come-on-get-real' it is. It seems our hearts set us up for failure and disappointment - or, at least, mine does, having gotten much practise over my fruitless and uneventful years. Uneventful, that is, aside from my vivid imagination painting pictures just as elusive as clouds of smoke hidden in twilight shadow. Today, my heart hurts. But why? Not for anything I had, surely, because there is nothing I've actually lost that's worth feeling this way over. Perhaps for the snuffing out of the fledgling flame of the promise of a different morning, of a beautiful future in which everything described in songs I love manifested itself in a single person whose arms were open, ready, accommodating, and gentle for someone like me.
Maybe it's the song merely talking through me. Or maybe I'm tired of being set aside, both by life and by my own mind. If I say I have so damn much to give, why do I both believe it and undermine it? I search, unbidden, for flaws within me, to reinforce the emptiness around me. But I also search for meaning, to imbue my solitary trek from day to day with a feeling of it being not only worthwhile but glorious. Whatever. Maybe this stuff is unimportant, and y'all are rolling your eyes. I'm gonna cry right now, and that's okay....you won't remember a single word I've got to say....
Unimportant, maybe. But irrelevant to this blog? Certainly.
And so we're moving on.
I've aquired a ton of new music since I've last written, but somehow nothing beyond "Sing 'Em Good My Friend" seems fitting today. The lyrics, by themselves, are enough to make one lost in desperate thought. Add to it the ghostly background vocals, and Kenny Chesney's soft and poignant drawl, and it overshadows anything else I might attempt to bring up here. Of course, "a ton" is a hyperbole. Plus music is unquantifiable in a metric sense but, again, please bear with me. My heart is heavy, and perhaps that increases my eloquence but diminishes my ability to be rational.
This song is one I've had in my mind since 4 July. It's not born from this strange feeling settling down in my chest, so don't worry. I've just not had time, nor the inclination, to finish it until today, when the disquiet in my mind searched for something else to ponder. I remember I came up with the chorus in one fell swoop, while in the shower that day, after something in the hockey world happened, towards which I felt extraordinarily resentful. If you couldn't understand that from the title. Of course, after much deliberation and debate, I have grown to not feel so resentful, but you'll excuse me if the song still stands - it can refer to any situation, of course. I wrote it as a kind of break-up song, steeped in bitterness.
Hate You
one day, I'll look at you and not feel like you betrayed me
one day, I won't have to take what happened so personally
maybe we'll even be friends
one day, it'll be easy to smile at the crazy things we got to do
one day, I'll believe that what you said all along was the truth
maybe this broken heart will mend
CHORUS:
but right now,
I just need to hate you
'cause that's how
I'll ever get through
the mess you made when you left
the silence after every breath
the fact that you are not the man I thought you were
so right now,
I have to hate you so much it hurts
one day, I'll be able to stop pretending that I understand
one day, I'll forget how safe it felt just to be in your hands
maybe my life will still be grand
CHORUS:
but right now,
I just need to hate you
'cause that's how
I'll ever get through
the mess you made when you left
the silence after every breath
the fact that you are not the man I thought you were
so right now,
I have to hate you so much it hurts
BRIDGE:
so go ahead, and don't give me a second thought
try to feel good about yourself
I'll stay behind, with the break that I've caught
and your memory dispelled
CHORUS:
but right now,
I just need to hate you
'cause that's how
I'll ever get through
the mess you made when you left
the silence after every breath
the fact that you are not the man I thought you were
so right now,
I have to hate you so much it hurts
oh, boy, I hate you so much it hurts
one day, I'll look at you and not feel like you betrayed me...
"Thought" is a difficult word for which to come up with a rhyme. Damn, it's tough, even with the app on my phone which generates rhymes. Questions/comments/suggestions are, as usual, both appreciated and welcomed.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
p.s. For example, I received a suggestion from a friend about shifting choruses, and using them. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of song dealing with what would accommodate that the best, but see? It was a good suggestion.
When winters come along and summer's dead and gone, is there anything left here to say? I can put my arms around the emptiness I found and find a way to make you stay. But I'm standing still, as you leave me now.
23 July 2012
16 July 2012
Endlessly
I have to get my hands on Lee Brice's new album, Hard 2 Love. The "2," of course, a not-so-subtle reminder that it is, in fact, his second album. (Personally, I think it's dumb - it kind of underestimates, undervalues his audience. I much prefer the use of Roman numerals, such as with Trace Adkins' tenth album, X; I wonder how many people asked themselves why his new album was called "ex.") Aside from that, from what I've heard when I looked it up on Spotify, it's an amazing album. What's so great about Lee Brice is the way his voice wraps around his songs, the ballads in particular, and really fills them up with life, light, and magic. The first cut off the record was "A Woman Like You," which I absolutely adore. I saw the music video once (for the first time) when I was vacuuming over the Christmas holiday - without sound, mind you - and bought it immediately. The second, "Hard To Love," has really great syncopation in the chorus, which I really like. But I also don't quite understand this trend of songs which make the women out to be ridiculously amazing for loving their troublesome men - saints vs. devils, kind of; they're basically the only types of songs which Tim McGraw sings, and it kind of gets on my nerves, no matter how good the songs are. (Dustin Lynch's "Cowboys and Angels," however, is an exception - that song is absolutely tremendous in every way, and I do highly recommend it.) There is nothing wrong or unappealing about being a well-behaved, good-natured, mature man. It's not like we like you any less for being what mainstream media would term "boring." It's actually sexier. Way sexier. Commercials, too, showing incapable men/fathers/husbands/people also annoy me.
But that's not the point.
The point, of course, is that I really want the album. The song, "I Drive Your Truck," which I discovered on Spotify whilst researching Lee Brice, is enough to make me want it.
Also. I turned on CMT one recent morning while unloading the dishwasher, because I do that and also because I really wanted to buy another song on iTunes but I didn't know what and wanted inspiration, and a few videos came up. The first was Scotty McCreery's "The Trouble With Girls." (I stay away from his stuff, usually, but I kept it on and actually watched the video, instead of saying dismissively, as I normally do, "Dude, you're twelve. What do you know about girls?") I never really thought about it, because I'm out of high school (thank goodness), but watching it made me kind of sad. I've always loved the idea of high school sweethearts. I don't know why, but I've always felt as though that must be the sweetest kind of love. And something about it made me kind of mournful of the butterflies I would never know. Innocent, and lovely. There are different kinds of butterflies once you're grown - it's never innocent again, really, even if it's still for the first time.
But anyway, the next song was Kix Brooks' "New to this Town," which is a really good cut off his first solo album. It's funny, but after Brooks & Dunn split up, both Kix's and Ronnie's solo albums have been great. The same way their collaborative products were.
The video which followed, however - holy cow. It was Phil Vassar's "Don't Miss Your Life." Now, I've always known Phil Vassar has good songs: "Just Another Day in Paradise" and "Last Day of Your Life" are excellent indications of that. But, WOW. I was not expecting to be reduced to overwhelming tears before the end of the first chorus. Thankfully, I had put down the plates I was holding at the time and managed to hold onto the edge of the counter, because otherwise I would have been on the floor surrounded by shards of porcelain in seconds. It may sound odd to you, but I've always LOVED songs which have made me cry. And there have been many - some particularly memorable ones have been, "You Can Let Go," by Crystal Shawanda (one of my absolute favourites); "Stealing Cinderella," by Chuck Wicks; "The Baby," by Blake Shelton; "I Loved Her First," by Heartland; "Never Grow Up," by Taylor Swift; "Just Fishin'," by Trace Adkins (this was another automatic video-song-tears connection); and "Who You'd Be Today," by Kenny Chesney. Of course, I am limiting this to country songs I can remember at the moment, but there have - of course - been others. There's a distinct, none-too-subtle, theme running through all of these examples, but I don't know if you are well-versed enough in them to pick up on it. But anyway, the Phil Vassar song fits perfectly in with all of them - thematically, and my-reaction-wise. This is real. I mean, this man GETS IT. Every reason why I know exactly what I want to do when I have kids - and every reason why having kids is my greatest dream and my most-wished-for aspiration. He sounds as though he has all the sands of time in his voice, with every sentimental feeling ever felt, combined with nostalgia and beauty and a little forlorn-ness. Plus joy and regret and wisdom and simplicity and tenderness and conversationality. And it's not just his voice, but it's the melody (syncopation, AHHH! so amazing!!) and the words. I just...I can't say enough about this song.
So, duh, my dilemma was solved and I knew what to buy on iTunes. Of course, as with all of my songs, I had to listen to it twelve times, and by then it had lost some of its tear-inducing power, as repetition is wont to do, which was good because then I could listen to it in public and not break down. (Which, funny story, is what used to happen the fall Speak Now came out and I listened to "Never Grow Up" on repeat - I would be walking down the street and just start crying. Not a good thing to do.) But I've already listened to it at least thirty times since last weekend. It's just that amazing. You might not think so, but I love it.
Anyway, moving on.
Oh! But first. I finally looked up the typical plural of "magnum opus," and wanted to report it here. It can be either magnum opuses, or opus magnum, but I like magna opera the best. Granted, I doubt anyone is supposed to produce two of these things in his/her life, but there you have it.
So, this song you're about to read is absolutely hot off the presses. I've been mulling it over in my head ever since meeting up with the boy from ages ago, because it seemed the right thing to do. Of course, I hate to keep writing songs about this topic, but this, I promise you (and myself), is the last one. It sucks, because, you know, worse things have happened, and they haven't been nearly as fruitful as this one could-have-been-but-maybe-dodged-a-bullet-here thing. But this is the last of the David songs. I can't forever be in high school. And that, I think, is addressed here.
Endlessly
can I forgive you for being in my past?
only if you can forgive yourself
I'd forbid every word, if I had it my way
so then you would never know what to say
those days wouldn't haunt me like they like to
and maybe I could look not to you, but beyond
but as your ghosts swirl around you,
can you find one that you never wronged?
CHORUS:
I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
can you forgive me for being in your past?
only if I can forgive myself
sometimes I forget that silence is golden
and I learned too late not to get caught up in the moment
now, if only I could set your conscience free
and we could both let those old ''what if''s die
so you wouldn't have to feel so guilty
and I wouldn't have to change your mind
CHORUS:
I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
BRIDGE:
now I don't want to be strangers,
but I'm afraid to get too close
CHORUS:
'cause I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
oh, I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have...
I may go back and finesse some of the wording, but there is so much in this song that is golden to me (is that conceited to say?). So much truth here, it's ridiculous. How sad is it, really, that the entire time he kept saying he felt bad, I kept saying not to? I kept apologising, for things he did (or didn't do)? I kept saying it was my fault (but was it, really? I shouldn't have to answer for the way my heart beat at the moment, all four years' worth of them)? It's messed up, but this is my way of letting it all go. He may still be haunted by the dumb things he said, and the moments of openness from me he simply shut and locked down, but hey. I'm done. We're friends, and I happen to like him so much better that way.
Much love, however pensive today, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
'Cause I'm moving on with the rest of my life, / and I'm not sure if I can make this right. And it's too late, we went a little too far / and now I have to live with us broken apart / and I already gave another man my heart. Oh, I'm already gone and I'm moving on.
But that's not the point.
The point, of course, is that I really want the album. The song, "I Drive Your Truck," which I discovered on Spotify whilst researching Lee Brice, is enough to make me want it.
Also. I turned on CMT one recent morning while unloading the dishwasher, because I do that and also because I really wanted to buy another song on iTunes but I didn't know what and wanted inspiration, and a few videos came up. The first was Scotty McCreery's "The Trouble With Girls." (I stay away from his stuff, usually, but I kept it on and actually watched the video, instead of saying dismissively, as I normally do, "Dude, you're twelve. What do you know about girls?") I never really thought about it, because I'm out of high school (thank goodness), but watching it made me kind of sad. I've always loved the idea of high school sweethearts. I don't know why, but I've always felt as though that must be the sweetest kind of love. And something about it made me kind of mournful of the butterflies I would never know. Innocent, and lovely. There are different kinds of butterflies once you're grown - it's never innocent again, really, even if it's still for the first time.
But anyway, the next song was Kix Brooks' "New to this Town," which is a really good cut off his first solo album. It's funny, but after Brooks & Dunn split up, both Kix's and Ronnie's solo albums have been great. The same way their collaborative products were.
The video which followed, however - holy cow. It was Phil Vassar's "Don't Miss Your Life." Now, I've always known Phil Vassar has good songs: "Just Another Day in Paradise" and "Last Day of Your Life" are excellent indications of that. But, WOW. I was not expecting to be reduced to overwhelming tears before the end of the first chorus. Thankfully, I had put down the plates I was holding at the time and managed to hold onto the edge of the counter, because otherwise I would have been on the floor surrounded by shards of porcelain in seconds. It may sound odd to you, but I've always LOVED songs which have made me cry. And there have been many - some particularly memorable ones have been, "You Can Let Go," by Crystal Shawanda (one of my absolute favourites); "Stealing Cinderella," by Chuck Wicks; "The Baby," by Blake Shelton; "I Loved Her First," by Heartland; "Never Grow Up," by Taylor Swift; "Just Fishin'," by Trace Adkins (this was another automatic video-song-tears connection); and "Who You'd Be Today," by Kenny Chesney. Of course, I am limiting this to country songs I can remember at the moment, but there have - of course - been others. There's a distinct, none-too-subtle, theme running through all of these examples, but I don't know if you are well-versed enough in them to pick up on it. But anyway, the Phil Vassar song fits perfectly in with all of them - thematically, and my-reaction-wise. This is real. I mean, this man GETS IT. Every reason why I know exactly what I want to do when I have kids - and every reason why having kids is my greatest dream and my most-wished-for aspiration. He sounds as though he has all the sands of time in his voice, with every sentimental feeling ever felt, combined with nostalgia and beauty and a little forlorn-ness. Plus joy and regret and wisdom and simplicity and tenderness and conversationality. And it's not just his voice, but it's the melody (syncopation, AHHH! so amazing!!) and the words. I just...I can't say enough about this song.
So, duh, my dilemma was solved and I knew what to buy on iTunes. Of course, as with all of my songs, I had to listen to it twelve times, and by then it had lost some of its tear-inducing power, as repetition is wont to do, which was good because then I could listen to it in public and not break down. (Which, funny story, is what used to happen the fall Speak Now came out and I listened to "Never Grow Up" on repeat - I would be walking down the street and just start crying. Not a good thing to do.) But I've already listened to it at least thirty times since last weekend. It's just that amazing. You might not think so, but I love it.
Anyway, moving on.
Oh! But first. I finally looked up the typical plural of "magnum opus," and wanted to report it here. It can be either magnum opuses, or opus magnum, but I like magna opera the best. Granted, I doubt anyone is supposed to produce two of these things in his/her life, but there you have it.
So, this song you're about to read is absolutely hot off the presses. I've been mulling it over in my head ever since meeting up with the boy from ages ago, because it seemed the right thing to do. Of course, I hate to keep writing songs about this topic, but this, I promise you (and myself), is the last one. It sucks, because, you know, worse things have happened, and they haven't been nearly as fruitful as this one could-have-been-but-maybe-dodged-a-bullet-here thing. But this is the last of the David songs. I can't forever be in high school. And that, I think, is addressed here.
Endlessly
can I forgive you for being in my past?
only if you can forgive yourself
I'd forbid every word, if I had it my way
so then you would never know what to say
those days wouldn't haunt me like they like to
and maybe I could look not to you, but beyond
but as your ghosts swirl around you,
can you find one that you never wronged?
CHORUS:
I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
can you forgive me for being in your past?
only if I can forgive myself
sometimes I forget that silence is golden
and I learned too late not to get caught up in the moment
now, if only I could set your conscience free
and we could both let those old ''what if''s die
so you wouldn't have to feel so guilty
and I wouldn't have to change your mind
CHORUS:
I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
BRIDGE:
now I don't want to be strangers,
but I'm afraid to get too close
CHORUS:
'cause I never wanted to be
something you'd regret endlessly
I never wanted to make you feel bad
from now on you'll seem to me
simply a memory, just like I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have
oh, I'll forever be
your one that got away and shouldn't have...
I may go back and finesse some of the wording, but there is so much in this song that is golden to me (is that conceited to say?). So much truth here, it's ridiculous. How sad is it, really, that the entire time he kept saying he felt bad, I kept saying not to? I kept apologising, for things he did (or didn't do)? I kept saying it was my fault (but was it, really? I shouldn't have to answer for the way my heart beat at the moment, all four years' worth of them)? It's messed up, but this is my way of letting it all go. He may still be haunted by the dumb things he said, and the moments of openness from me he simply shut and locked down, but hey. I'm done. We're friends, and I happen to like him so much better that way.
Much love, however pensive today, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
'Cause I'm moving on with the rest of my life, / and I'm not sure if I can make this right. And it's too late, we went a little too far / and now I have to live with us broken apart / and I already gave another man my heart. Oh, I'm already gone and I'm moving on.
10 July 2012
Lament for Lokomotiv
I mentioned this one, the second of my magnum opuses (damn, I still haven't looked up the opi/opuses thing) in the previous post. But I figured I'd post it here even though no one expressly requested it - not that I expected that to happen.
First, some background. You really need to know about the circumstance before, I think, you can truly appreciate it (which, you don't have to do, although I'd actually kind of appreciate it, especially because this isn't some small song which comes from within me and doesn't touch anything other than my highly-coloured fantasy world but actually entails so many other people and emotions greater than any about which I had previously written, except maybe in "Do You Feel Safer Now," and that was still from my perspective, whereas in this one, I'm kind of both omnipresent and invisible). Okay, take a breath from reading that run-on, and let's continue.
My love for hockey is a broad kind of love. For certain players, for my team, for the league, for championships, and for the sport in general.
I'm also human. With feelings (as explained in a previous post). So, when a plane carrying an entire hockey team crashed last September, my reaction to the news was twofold. (It was 7 September, to be precise; I'll never forget it.) Plus it was extreme.
And I am in no way implying that my reaction was in any way akin to that of the forty-four families which lost loved ones that day - I can not even begin to consider the depth and endlessness of their grief.
I happened to be eating breakfast when my Twitter feed began to explode with the news. I immediately put aside my small bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal (I never finished it), and read everything I could about the crash. Nothing was certain yet, but there was much about which to be trepidatious. I was already well-versed in flight list and speculations about it when I rushed off to class - trying, under heavy grey skies and a light drizzle, to outrace my mind spinning with fears. I learned nothing in my fifty-minute French class, only how to repeatedly and surreptitiously check my phone (it was actually my iPod; my phone was broken) for Twitter updates while sitting in the front row, and how not to get caught in the act. My next class, Victorian Literature, was in my school's library, so I crossed the street and started climbing the stairs to the sixth floor. Between floors two and three, I read all of the new tweets, and my eyes first landed on the confirmation of Alexander Vasyunov's death. And then Karel Rachunek's. I started hyperventilating so badly, I got massively dizzy. The latter player, especially, was one I really liked and admired. I wasn't crying, yet; it was just a wave of disbelief. And then came all of the other stories and confirmations and statistics and, and pictures. I all but willed myself up the stairs, waited for my professor to come, asked to be excused from class, ran back to my dorm (in the rain, fittingly), and threw up. Twice. When that was over, I started crying. And began researching the lives of everyone who was killed, because there had to be a way for me to commemorate them properly. (Irrelevant: I also had hot soup for dinner, because it felt like a warm hug, one I really needed.)
Six months later, there was this.
I should mention that I took an altogether fairly drastic step with this song of mine: I sent a copy of the lyrics out to a few hockey-related places, recently. So far, no one has written back to me, which I understand. But, to accompany it, I sent out a letter, so what follows by way of explanation I am taking directly verbatim from the letter I sent out:
"As an amateur songwriter, and lover of words and the way they fit together, my natural instinct was to bring pen to paper, and that very night, I began to set down the way I felt. Six months later, what was meant to be a concise yet personal outporing of grief had become a lengthy yet meticulously-organised and -detailed eulogy. Its evolution was rather complex. At some point during the drafting of the piece, I decided to commemorate every hockey-related person who had died aboard the ill-fated plane - even the administrators and the equipment trainers. (The flights staff, regrettably, were difficult to fit into it, and therefore were not included. That is, however, not a commentary on the importance of their lives.)
"To that end, I set about researching each man, so as to be best able to find a word which captured his essence and which, once placed in the poem/song, would be distinctly his own. I spent hours poring over team websites, blog posts, scouting reports, video, hockey message boards, newspaper and internet articles, and interviews, in order to find the one word to describe each person, and then even more hours obsessing over the correct wording and/or phrasing. Some words came easily, by association: "iron," for example, befitted Karlis Skrastins, who set the ironmark mark for NHL defensemen. Some were easy to choose for the wealth of information available: Pavol Demitra, among others, generated many words before I settled on "home," for his particular brilliance playing for his native Slovakia. The hardest, and most heartbreaking, were those men for whom there was little to no information; these words, then, had to be taken from associations I had with their names or birthplaces: massage therapist Vyacheslav Kuznetsov, for example, has the word "black," because his surname translates to "blacksmith" from Russian; or, for young left winger Artem Yarchuk, I chose the word "art," taking a portion of his first name. In total, there were 37 such meaningful words.
"Further, to really add greater significance to what I was writing, I ensured that every verse, of which there are four, had exactly eleven lines, so that the sum would come to 44, a total to mirror the ultimate number of casualties. There are also certain words and phrases which refer to the situtation in general: "locomotive," for example; or, "gold"/"silver"/"cups" to indicate those winners of medals and/or trophies from various competitions."
So, there's that introduction to the song.
I should also mention, and this is a rare occurrence as of late, that I have no melody for the song in mind. For the chorus, yes. But for the verses, no. I'd begun to see it as a spoken-word song (which sounds just as oxymoronic as "prose poem," but there it is). The verses, then, would be spoken, and the chorus mournfully sung.
And, although this is a song that could be continually evolved and fixed and changed and perfected further, I decided it was finished on 7 March 2012. That was exactly six months, half a year since the crash. To tell you how many times I teared up writing the song would be to damage my already-fragile reputation, I'm sure. But really, the third verse, which I was composing in January, still gets me. The part about the wings....holy cow.
Finally, for your convenience, I will try to attach to this post a .pdf download for you to upload to your computer (if you'd like), in which there are three copies of the song: one, an unmarked version; the second, one which highlights and explains the meaningful words for the people; and the third, which illustrates and explicates the other allusions. Try clicking here, and then let me know if it worked, please. I'm ever so unpractised with things like this.
Lament for Lokomotiv
take my hand, this day is far too long for us to walk through it alone
take a bow, the curtain's closing, and without warning, the players have to leave
...Remember, you are under no obligation to like it, just because it's about a tragedy and I poured my life's blood into it.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
Hold on tight, 'cause it don't happen twice - don't miss your life.
First, some background. You really need to know about the circumstance before, I think, you can truly appreciate it (which, you don't have to do, although I'd actually kind of appreciate it, especially because this isn't some small song which comes from within me and doesn't touch anything other than my highly-coloured fantasy world but actually entails so many other people and emotions greater than any about which I had previously written, except maybe in "Do You Feel Safer Now," and that was still from my perspective, whereas in this one, I'm kind of both omnipresent and invisible). Okay, take a breath from reading that run-on, and let's continue.
My love for hockey is a broad kind of love. For certain players, for my team, for the league, for championships, and for the sport in general.
I'm also human. With feelings (as explained in a previous post). So, when a plane carrying an entire hockey team crashed last September, my reaction to the news was twofold. (It was 7 September, to be precise; I'll never forget it.) Plus it was extreme.
And I am in no way implying that my reaction was in any way akin to that of the forty-four families which lost loved ones that day - I can not even begin to consider the depth and endlessness of their grief.
I happened to be eating breakfast when my Twitter feed began to explode with the news. I immediately put aside my small bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal (I never finished it), and read everything I could about the crash. Nothing was certain yet, but there was much about which to be trepidatious. I was already well-versed in flight list and speculations about it when I rushed off to class - trying, under heavy grey skies and a light drizzle, to outrace my mind spinning with fears. I learned nothing in my fifty-minute French class, only how to repeatedly and surreptitiously check my phone (it was actually my iPod; my phone was broken) for Twitter updates while sitting in the front row, and how not to get caught in the act. My next class, Victorian Literature, was in my school's library, so I crossed the street and started climbing the stairs to the sixth floor. Between floors two and three, I read all of the new tweets, and my eyes first landed on the confirmation of Alexander Vasyunov's death. And then Karel Rachunek's. I started hyperventilating so badly, I got massively dizzy. The latter player, especially, was one I really liked and admired. I wasn't crying, yet; it was just a wave of disbelief. And then came all of the other stories and confirmations and statistics and, and pictures. I all but willed myself up the stairs, waited for my professor to come, asked to be excused from class, ran back to my dorm (in the rain, fittingly), and threw up. Twice. When that was over, I started crying. And began researching the lives of everyone who was killed, because there had to be a way for me to commemorate them properly. (Irrelevant: I also had hot soup for dinner, because it felt like a warm hug, one I really needed.)
Six months later, there was this.
I should mention that I took an altogether fairly drastic step with this song of mine: I sent a copy of the lyrics out to a few hockey-related places, recently. So far, no one has written back to me, which I understand. But, to accompany it, I sent out a letter, so what follows by way of explanation I am taking directly verbatim from the letter I sent out:
"As an amateur songwriter, and lover of words and the way they fit together, my natural instinct was to bring pen to paper, and that very night, I began to set down the way I felt. Six months later, what was meant to be a concise yet personal outporing of grief had become a lengthy yet meticulously-organised and -detailed eulogy. Its evolution was rather complex. At some point during the drafting of the piece, I decided to commemorate every hockey-related person who had died aboard the ill-fated plane - even the administrators and the equipment trainers. (The flights staff, regrettably, were difficult to fit into it, and therefore were not included. That is, however, not a commentary on the importance of their lives.)
"To that end, I set about researching each man, so as to be best able to find a word which captured his essence and which, once placed in the poem/song, would be distinctly his own. I spent hours poring over team websites, blog posts, scouting reports, video, hockey message boards, newspaper and internet articles, and interviews, in order to find the one word to describe each person, and then even more hours obsessing over the correct wording and/or phrasing. Some words came easily, by association: "iron," for example, befitted Karlis Skrastins, who set the ironmark mark for NHL defensemen. Some were easy to choose for the wealth of information available: Pavol Demitra, among others, generated many words before I settled on "home," for his particular brilliance playing for his native Slovakia. The hardest, and most heartbreaking, were those men for whom there was little to no information; these words, then, had to be taken from associations I had with their names or birthplaces: massage therapist Vyacheslav Kuznetsov, for example, has the word "black," because his surname translates to "blacksmith" from Russian; or, for young left winger Artem Yarchuk, I chose the word "art," taking a portion of his first name. In total, there were 37 such meaningful words.
"Further, to really add greater significance to what I was writing, I ensured that every verse, of which there are four, had exactly eleven lines, so that the sum would come to 44, a total to mirror the ultimate number of casualties. There are also certain words and phrases which refer to the situtation in general: "locomotive," for example; or, "gold"/"silver"/"cups" to indicate those winners of medals and/or trophies from various competitions."
So, there's that introduction to the song.
I should also mention, and this is a rare occurrence as of late, that I have no melody for the song in mind. For the chorus, yes. But for the verses, no. I'd begun to see it as a spoken-word song (which sounds just as oxymoronic as "prose poem," but there it is). The verses, then, would be spoken, and the chorus mournfully sung.
And, although this is a song that could be continually evolved and fixed and changed and perfected further, I decided it was finished on 7 March 2012. That was exactly six months, half a year since the crash. To tell you how many times I teared up writing the song would be to damage my already-fragile reputation, I'm sure. But really, the third verse, which I was composing in January, still gets me. The part about the wings....holy cow.
Finally, for your convenience, I will try to attach to this post a .pdf download for you to upload to your computer (if you'd like), in which there are three copies of the song: one, an unmarked version; the second, one which highlights and explains the meaningful words for the people; and the third, which illustrates and explicates the other allusions. Try clicking here, and then let me know if it worked, please. I'm ever so unpractised with things like this.
Lament for Lokomotiv
take my hand, this day is far too long for us to walk through it alone
and as the sky grows blacker, the sun leaves and takes with it all that we’ve known
though night has fallen, it’s still early to look up at all of the new stars
because the distance between them and us has just become way too far
and it’s a little too much to give up to get next to where they are
to the east, the tide is rising, and soon the river will wash its banks clean
but to the west, we are lighting candles, with none of us able to sleep
music and moments swirl around me, and all I can do is to stand there
I can’t breathe, and I’m hugging myself, numbly, because I’m just that scared
and I’d rather forever repeat yesterday than to move forward too soon
because now I know that growing older means getting sadder, too
CHORUS:
so let the plane take you high, high, higher than you’ve ever been
and I will stay and keep watch, watch, watching the taillights get dim
suddenly you won’t be here, here, hearing a sound
everything will be still
close your eyes, none of us is meant to look upon this haunting sight
all the gold, the fire, the silver, the red mixed with water and ice
that was brought to life, and left behind, but at least you were not alone
was there fear, was there redemption, were there thoughts of home?
between the trees, the sticks, and the towering piles of stone
oh, if only we could save so much more from this mass of splintered iron
than the ultimate proof that with clipped wings, nothing is able to fly
I half-doubted when they said it, lover and believer that I am
but it and chance rewrote the week, the week which started with a traffic jam
somehow this day would have passed as any other without one fateful mistake
but then, just as something new was starting, someone applied the brakes
CHORUS:
so let the plane take you high, high, higher than you’ve ever been
and I will stay and keep watch, watch, watching the taillights get dim
suddenly you won’t be here, here, hearing a sound
everything will be still
take a bow, the curtain's closing, and without warning, the players have to leave
we’ve seen this happen before, when the last to breathe are the first to cease
it’s a vision of hours ducking in line, forming swiftly-flowing days,
of time which passes like a motor, and flies into a ringing-bell haze
and rests itself among bouquets of holly, dill, and praise
today, we gather the flowers and pretend we know how to grieve
in the dear, hopeless hopes that it all turns out to be make-believe
but there you were, and here we are, accompanied forever after
by traces of bright shadows and echoes of resounding laughter
we’ll listen, but the rest will fade away, like the earliest birdcalls of spring
where will the winds of the Earth lead you, now that you’ve put on your wings?
CHORUS:
so let the plane take you high, high, higher than you’ve ever been
and I will stay and keep watch, watch, watching the taillights get dim
suddenly you won’t be here, here, hearing a sound
everything will be still
take a breath, it’s time to watch as, all around, dream-like normalcy returns
there’s a heart still beating, and the light put in the window still burns
looking past it, you might see your face in the seeds you planted
not in the cups you held, the gifts you got, or in chairs left disenchanted
those now little more than cheap art from days taken for granted
the scene is heavy with a quiet no whistle or footfall will break
maybe if we hadn’t loved so much, we might’ve escaped this deep ache
and uncertainty wouldn’t have fit into our altered picture of tomorrow
eventually, we’ll find our way back to solid ground, and we won’t let go
but for now, a chill that has nothing to do with the weather descends
because the ride of the promising locomotive has come to an end....Remember, you are under no obligation to like it, just because it's about a tragedy and I poured my life's blood into it.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
Hold on tight, 'cause it don't happen twice - don't miss your life.
06 July 2012
Thank You
And now we've come to it. The song I've been trying to reach ever since I re-started this blog.
THIS.
I think this song is my greatest triumph. I realise, that that means building it up quite high, but I really do like it (read: love it), and sometimes I just like to read it for no apparent reason. It's certainly one of my two magnum opuses (opi? I really wish I'd taken Latin) - the other being a "Lament for Lokomotiv," which I haven't posted here because it's less of a song and more of a poem, but I can if you wish (it's about the plane crash of last September that killed the entire KHL team, and took me literally six months to write).
But this song.
I hope you like it.
Thank You
I hope I didn't wake you as I was getting out of bed
but there were some things running through my head
that I just had to write down
there's something 'bout hearing you breathing tonight
that made me have to leave your side
'cause my heart was loving too loud
CHORUS:
and now I'm thinking, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being mine
you turn over and cover your eyes with your elbow
as a moonbeam peeks through the curtained window
and lights the sparks in your hair
something about this moment takes my breath away
there's a magic here I've rarely seen by day
so I just wanna stare
CHORUS:
because I'm thinking, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being mine
BRIDGE:
if you needed it right now, I could fly through time
and bring about every dream you see in your mind
I hope you know I would break walls for you
and climb the stars like a ladder so you could reach the moon
I know we can't live forever, but we'll die trying
if tears were seconds with you, I'd never stop crying
you don't really ever snore, but you make little sounds
so I get up from the chair and lie back down
and you, you open those beautiful eyes (hi)
my head's on your shoulder, you've pulled me in close
I woke you up anyway, this I know
and I apologise
CHORUS:
but I just had to say, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
So, there it is. I really hope you like it, but can, of course, understand if you don't. Maybe next time I'll have "Hate You," for those who don't like this song and want less of a touchy-feely scenario. I'm also working on a bit of a song about regrets, but not in the way you might think.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
And I thank you for my heart, and I thank you for my life.... I'm seeing for the first time the stars, the sun and moon, but they've got nothing on the power of this love I have for you. And I thank you, I thank you.
THIS.
I think this song is my greatest triumph. I realise, that that means building it up quite high, but I really do like it (read: love it), and sometimes I just like to read it for no apparent reason. It's certainly one of my two magnum opuses (opi? I really wish I'd taken Latin) - the other being a "Lament for Lokomotiv," which I haven't posted here because it's less of a song and more of a poem, but I can if you wish (it's about the plane crash of last September that killed the entire KHL team, and took me literally six months to write).
But this song.
I hope you like it.
Thank You
I hope I didn't wake you as I was getting out of bed
but there were some things running through my head
that I just had to write down
there's something 'bout hearing you breathing tonight
that made me have to leave your side
'cause my heart was loving too loud
CHORUS:
and now I'm thinking, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being mine
you turn over and cover your eyes with your elbow
as a moonbeam peeks through the curtained window
and lights the sparks in your hair
something about this moment takes my breath away
there's a magic here I've rarely seen by day
so I just wanna stare
CHORUS:
because I'm thinking, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being mine
BRIDGE:
if you needed it right now, I could fly through time
and bring about every dream you see in your mind
I hope you know I would break walls for you
and climb the stars like a ladder so you could reach the moon
I know we can't live forever, but we'll die trying
if tears were seconds with you, I'd never stop crying
you don't really ever snore, but you make little sounds
so I get up from the chair and lie back down
and you, you open those beautiful eyes (hi)
my head's on your shoulder, you've pulled me in close
I woke you up anyway, this I know
and I apologise
CHORUS:
but I just had to say, thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
thank you (thank you)
thank you for your life
thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
and thank you (thank you)
thank you for being you
So, there it is. I really hope you like it, but can, of course, understand if you don't. Maybe next time I'll have "Hate You," for those who don't like this song and want less of a touchy-feely scenario. I'm also working on a bit of a song about regrets, but not in the way you might think.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
And I thank you for my heart, and I thank you for my life.... I'm seeing for the first time the stars, the sun and moon, but they've got nothing on the power of this love I have for you. And I thank you, I thank you.
To Have Loved You
I was flipping through my second song notebook (yes, I've already finished one, and yes, the second one's better, though I only have a few pages left) during lunch today, because I had finished reading my leisure book during, ahem, work this morning. And I found a few really good songs that I hadn't thought were so good when I was writing them. I can't post them here, because they are more in the vein of "You Had Me," only much more so, and therefore would probably depress the excrement out of anyone, but it's nice to know that I don't su...that I'm not as terrible a songwriter as I sometimes think I am.
This song, I have to forewarn you, made me a little misty-eyed when I wrote it. I may have teared up, and that would be the first time I had done so since I wrote "This Song's For You" (and one of the aforementioned ones), but the first time ever over a romantic one. You may not be as sentimental, though, so proceed as you wish.
Oh, it kind of reminds me of that song from The Sound of Music where Captain Von Trapp and Maria are singing to each other after realising they love one another (because I'm totally sure that happened in real life - the singing, not the love): "Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could / so somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good..." But not really. My song is mine.
To Have Loved You
if these twenty-one years are all that is* given to me
and I close my eyes tonight to fall forever asleep
if time runs out for me to do all I could
I will have still done something good
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
if tenderness is one of the world's ambitions
as is giving your heart away without condition
them even if I ever do less than I should
I will have still done something good
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
BRIDGE:
days move on and let us go
but I'll keep you, to have and to hold
life's too quick, so make it worth it
never leave your good will hurting
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to love and be loved, is the best thing I could do
it's the best thing I can do...
And I totally believe this, too, if anyone is wondering. This is my heart, as plainly as you'll see it.
(See, I told you I really love the heart.)
*I've grappled endlessly with the proper grammatical conjugation here. Is it "is," or is it "are"? I've argued both ways, and I've got crossings-out in my notebook over this. "Is" would speak to a single entity given to someone, whereas "are" would be tied to the 'twenty-one years.' What do you think?
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
On my own, I'm only half of what I could be.
This song, I have to forewarn you, made me a little misty-eyed when I wrote it. I may have teared up, and that would be the first time I had done so since I wrote "This Song's For You" (and one of the aforementioned ones), but the first time ever over a romantic one. You may not be as sentimental, though, so proceed as you wish.
Oh, it kind of reminds me of that song from The Sound of Music where Captain Von Trapp and Maria are singing to each other after realising they love one another (because I'm totally sure that happened in real life - the singing, not the love): "Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could / so somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good..." But not really. My song is mine.
To Have Loved You
if these twenty-one years are all that is* given to me
and I close my eyes tonight to fall forever asleep
if time runs out for me to do all I could
I will have still done something good
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
if tenderness is one of the world's ambitions
as is giving your heart away without condition
them even if I ever do less than I should
I will have still done something good
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
BRIDGE:
days move on and let us go
but I'll keep you, to have and to hold
life's too quick, so make it worth it
never leave your good will hurting
CHORUS:
to have loved you, to have loved through and through
to have loved you, is the best thing I could do
to have breathed with you, dreamed with you, lived by your side
means I have really breathed, really dreamed, I've lived deep and wide
to love and be loved, is the best thing I could do
it's the best thing I can do...
And I totally believe this, too, if anyone is wondering. This is my heart, as plainly as you'll see it.
(See, I told you I really love the heart.)
*I've grappled endlessly with the proper grammatical conjugation here. Is it "is," or is it "are"? I've argued both ways, and I've got crossings-out in my notebook over this. "Is" would speak to a single entity given to someone, whereas "are" would be tied to the 'twenty-one years.' What do you think?
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
On my own, I'm only half of what I could be.
05 July 2012
My Waltz
Have I mentioned to you how excellent Eric Church's new album, Chief, is? No? Well, let me tell you: it's amazing. I got it over Christmas (along with Miranda Lambert's Four the Record - not as good as Revolution, duh, but still has some strong tracks, such as "All Kinds of Kinds," "Mama's Broken Heart," "Dear Diamond," and "Nobody's Fool," though "Over You" isn't bad either), and love it. My very, very, very, very favourite song is "Springsteen" which, I would like to point out to you, I loved way before he sent it to radio as his next cut off the album. "Homeboy" is the song which turned me on to the album, and still is every bit as strong as it was the first time I heard it (though, the music video helped solidify my appreciation for it - the slow motion parts are done SO WELL).
Kenny Chesney seems to be on a new album kick, lately. Earlier in the spring, he released a duet with Tim McGraw, "Feel Like a Rock Star," which did nothing for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually such a sucker for syncopation - it's the musical element that can sell me a song, above any other - but in this one, it rubs me the wrong way. It sounds almost discordant. I'm not knocking these two superstars, but the song isn't for me. "Come Over," though, is. It's the second cut off the to-be-released-soon-or-maybe-already-is-released-but-I-have-no-idea-when album, and is electrifying and intimate. I blast it when it comes on the radio (WYNK 101.5 Baton Rouge, of course), as I do with Keith Urban's new one from the film, Act of Valour (I think), "For You."
But moving on.
This song I have for you is, again, part of the "romantic period." But it's always seemed to me kind of lame - maybe because I'm looking at it from someone else's perspective. When I happen to view it through my own eyes, I love it (especially once it gets going). You see, the heart is my favourite part of the human body (as evidenced before) - and, as well, it's a word I think is underused, both on its own and as a metonym. There's something mysterious and breathless and private yet universal and familiar yet exotic, and lovely about the heart. I tried to capture a bit of it here, but I don't know if I succeeded. Mostly I just played with the idea of equating the heartbeat of one you love to the sweetest melody you've ever heard.
Also, I imagine this song to be in three-quarter time, as is only fitting.
My Waltz
do you hear that? you're playing my song
to which I've been humming along
right now, it's coming in loudly and clearly
because, you're here with me
CHORUS:
it's my lullaby, my waltz, my love song
it's the call that brings me home when we're apart
and I'm certain I can never go wrong
dancing to the beat of your beautiful heart
you'll take my hand and we'll walk through this life
always in step and always in style
movement this free won't need any changes
as, we turn through the ages
CHORUS:
it's my lullaby, my waltz, my love song
it's the call that brings me home when we're apart
and I'm certain I can never go wrong
dancing to the beat of your beautiful heart
BRIDGE:
like thunder in a storm, like drums in the night,
like a metronome forever keeping time...
CHORUS:
it's my lullaby, my waltz, my love song
it's the call that brings me home when we're apart
and I'm certain I can never go wrong
dancing to the beat of your beautiful heart
dancing to the beat of your beautiful heart...
My favourite is the second verse-chorus-bridge sequence. The first verse was more difficult than usual, because it's a strange sort of concept to introduce, and I'm not even sure I did it properly. Well, I'm sure you'll tell me.
Much love, and thank you for the musik!
Just Another Ordinary Girl
Boy, you took my breath, every time you took my hand. Young, and scared, and happy, a little less comfortable - back when you would wake me up in the middle of the night, kiss me like your lover instead of just your wife.
p.s. I spend most of my money on music. Music and Starbucks - one puts a smile on my face, the other puts smiley faces on my cups because they know me down there.
p.p.s. In case you're interested, I'm currently working on "Hate You." It's a little bit more in the angsty-angry-grrr-whywhywhy phase, but there's a very good reason behind it, I assure you. And hey, even Picasso regressed into previous phases. I haven't written a complete song since early early April, when I finished my triumph, "Thank You," which I think is the best song I've ever written (which is why I'm building up to it, naturally), and not to be confused in the least with a previous effort by the same name - in the vein of Thomas Hardy, for example, who, after he wrote what he figured was his magnum opus (either Tess of the D'Urbervilles or Jude the Obscure, I forget), ceased writing novels and focused on poetry exclusively. In my case, I switched my attention to sewing and quilting; I finished a tablecloth, a quilted potholder, and two pillows in the interim. I look forward to making a full quilt next, because my life is so boring there's nothing about which to write a song. Today, a colleague asked me what I do for fun, and I stared at him blankly.
03 July 2012
Driving With an Automatic
I'm kicking myself momentarily, because I realised last night how many pertinent things remain, of which I haven't told you. I'll make a (short) list, so that there'll be at least some sort of organisation:
1. First, regarding the first "p.s." from the last post. I feel as though I need to share what happened, given everything I've been through with this guy, and how many songs I've written about/for him. We didn't end up doing lunch, but we hung out at a nearby Starbucks for a few hours, before we drove off to another town to look at something. I have to say, what a pleasant surprise he was. The whole tone of the conversations we had seemed, to me, like a couple still friendly after a divorce - not that we were ever a couple (duh), but there was that sense of coming back to friendship after a physical and emotional gulf had separated us for a while. At times, there was the tone of parents telling their kids they had to put their dog to sleep, but the overall feeling was a strengthening of our acquaintance. I feel as though we are going to be great friends. Also, I'm over him. It took four and a half years of agony, but it's done.
2. Next. Y'all know that I'm a New Jersey Devils fan, if you know me at all. So, because I'm both a songwriter and a Devils fan, it was only natural that the two should at some point coincide. Not just the songs I've written about certain events in the course of the team's season, or the wisps of couplets I put together during this recent Cup run (one triumphant, the other sad - I had to cover all the bases, and then I stopped). But I've also taken to rewriting certain already-famous songs. For example, the first Devils-themed song I put together is to the tune of "Love Like Crazy," by Lee Brice (it's also merely okay...I borrowed heavily from the original). It's kind of the history of the Devils. For example, instead of "they called them crazy when they started out / said seventeen's too young to know what love's about," I have "they called him crazy when he started out / said hockey in New Jersey wouldn't stick around." I made sure they still rhyme, and have the same rhyme scheme and syllable count as the original. But my favourite one is to the tune of "Love Story," by Taylor Swift. It tells the story of a prospect coming to the draft, hoping to be drafted by the Devils, and finally that happening. It also features the use of "Lamoriello" instead of "Romeo," which is kind of really funny if you think about it. I'm currently working on "This is Devils Hockey," to the tune of Brad Paisley's recent Number 1 hit, "This is Country Music." What happened last summer was that I was so intent on memorising my own version of "Love Story" (called "Play Hockey," naturally), that when we went to a show of her "Speak Now" tour, and she performed "Love Story" - which, as her biggest hit, closed out the show - I accidentally sang my bridge instead of hers. Good stuff. If you'd like, I can post those lyrics, too. Let me know.
3. Because, yes, we went to see another Taylor Swift concert! It was incredible. Very theatrical. And this time, the battery of my camera didn't die during the opening act (which was NEEDTOBREATHE - and you NEEDTOHEAR their music, I'm not kidding - it's like Southern rock, and it's amazing; I recommend "Let Us Love," and "Something Beautiful," as well as "Valley of Tomorrow," and...basically the band's entire The Outsiders album), so I have a ton of video, as well as photos.
4. But, finally, the most exciting thing (!!!!). Last summer, I actually made it to Nashville. We walked down Broadway, and it felt as though I'd been called home. There is truly where I want to be for the rest of my life. I was a little worried, because I had built it up so high and amazing in my mind, and I tried to reason with myself, that there was no way it could live up to even half of the expectations I'd created - but it did. Very much. We hit up all of the highlights: the Ryman Auditorium; the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum; the Grand Ole Opry; Jack's BBQ (where, incidentally, I found out one of the Devils' beat reporters eats lunch when the team plays a game in Nashville; it's directly across from Bridgestone Arena, and the food is incredible; I tweeted this to him, to suggest a dining option, and he responded with, "Been there several times and will be going again for lunch tomorrow.")... We took a trolley tour, and walked up and down Music Row, and looked at the Parthenon replica (weird), and went honkytonkin'. I can post pictures, if you're interested. And when we left, I left my heart behind.
5. And now, the song. I learned to drive on a manual car; I can drive stick like nobody's business. But we recently (read: about a year ago) had to switch cars, when our lease expired, and there were only automatics and so we had to settle for one of those (grrrrr). The first thing I noticed is how much more complacent I am when I'm behind the wheel of an automatic vis-a-vis a manual (also that once you take your foot off the brake, it moves forward right away). I drive more quickly, because there's no self-monitoring mechanism, such as shifting gears, involved, because the car does it for you, and (a) that's boring, and (b) it breeds less caution. I don't like it. But it's also, of course, easier. Which is the aspect of driving with an automatic I decided to write into the song. That's the focus of this story: the ease of driving with an automatic, where it's not difficult and it transitions easily from one moment to the next.
I should mention that the melody I've attached to this song has been stuck in my head ever since the trip to Nashville in August, when I came up with it. I'm not even kidding. But that made it tremendously easier to come up with lyrics, because the melody, and therefore the melodic constraints, were all there.
Also, I started this song during a class last year and finished it 2 January - I don't have that written, but I remember it vividly, because I finished it during the third period/overtime of the Devils game vs. the Ottawa Senators (they lost, mostly because David Clarkson got a penalty in OT and that was that; it was also the last game until March that Travis Zajac played, because of his Achilles injury flaring up.)
And so, I present:
Driving With an Automatic
sometimes I think we're not working hard enough
all these years together and we're still in love
don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining
it's just surreal to keep explaining
how this works for us,
(but still)
CHORUS:
it's like driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
one hand on the wheel, one hand in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
our future is the untravelled road ahead
taking this ride is not something we'll regret
changing us is unnecessary
as long as we're not stationary
always side by side, we said
CHORUS:
it's like driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
one hand on the wheel, one hand in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
(instrumental break/bridge)
'cause we're driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
when you're driving with an automatic
don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
both hands on the wheel*, my heart in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
that's the way it is with you and me....
*I had to put that. I'm a very safe driver, and I play by all the rules. In fact, when he and I left Starbucks and got into his car (which was, I noticed, an automatic), we were talking about driving, and he mentioned, "Yeah, you seem like a very '10 and 2' person." Which, he was right, I am. So I had to include that in the song because I don't advocate recklessness.
Please have noticed that I am very much getting started with my love song period. Like Picasso, only much less talented.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
Well, it must've been hard, it must've been tough, keeping up with crazy fools like us.
1. First, regarding the first "p.s." from the last post. I feel as though I need to share what happened, given everything I've been through with this guy, and how many songs I've written about/for him. We didn't end up doing lunch, but we hung out at a nearby Starbucks for a few hours, before we drove off to another town to look at something. I have to say, what a pleasant surprise he was. The whole tone of the conversations we had seemed, to me, like a couple still friendly after a divorce - not that we were ever a couple (duh), but there was that sense of coming back to friendship after a physical and emotional gulf had separated us for a while. At times, there was the tone of parents telling their kids they had to put their dog to sleep, but the overall feeling was a strengthening of our acquaintance. I feel as though we are going to be great friends. Also, I'm over him. It took four and a half years of agony, but it's done.
2. Next. Y'all know that I'm a New Jersey Devils fan, if you know me at all. So, because I'm both a songwriter and a Devils fan, it was only natural that the two should at some point coincide. Not just the songs I've written about certain events in the course of the team's season, or the wisps of couplets I put together during this recent Cup run (one triumphant, the other sad - I had to cover all the bases, and then I stopped). But I've also taken to rewriting certain already-famous songs. For example, the first Devils-themed song I put together is to the tune of "Love Like Crazy," by Lee Brice (it's also merely okay...I borrowed heavily from the original). It's kind of the history of the Devils. For example, instead of "they called them crazy when they started out / said seventeen's too young to know what love's about," I have "they called him crazy when he started out / said hockey in New Jersey wouldn't stick around." I made sure they still rhyme, and have the same rhyme scheme and syllable count as the original. But my favourite one is to the tune of "Love Story," by Taylor Swift. It tells the story of a prospect coming to the draft, hoping to be drafted by the Devils, and finally that happening. It also features the use of "Lamoriello" instead of "Romeo," which is kind of really funny if you think about it. I'm currently working on "This is Devils Hockey," to the tune of Brad Paisley's recent Number 1 hit, "This is Country Music." What happened last summer was that I was so intent on memorising my own version of "Love Story" (called "Play Hockey," naturally), that when we went to a show of her "Speak Now" tour, and she performed "Love Story" - which, as her biggest hit, closed out the show - I accidentally sang my bridge instead of hers. Good stuff. If you'd like, I can post those lyrics, too. Let me know.
3. Because, yes, we went to see another Taylor Swift concert! It was incredible. Very theatrical. And this time, the battery of my camera didn't die during the opening act (which was NEEDTOBREATHE - and you NEEDTOHEAR their music, I'm not kidding - it's like Southern rock, and it's amazing; I recommend "Let Us Love," and "Something Beautiful," as well as "Valley of Tomorrow," and...basically the band's entire The Outsiders album), so I have a ton of video, as well as photos.
4. But, finally, the most exciting thing (!!!!). Last summer, I actually made it to Nashville. We walked down Broadway, and it felt as though I'd been called home. There is truly where I want to be for the rest of my life. I was a little worried, because I had built it up so high and amazing in my mind, and I tried to reason with myself, that there was no way it could live up to even half of the expectations I'd created - but it did. Very much. We hit up all of the highlights: the Ryman Auditorium; the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum; the Grand Ole Opry; Jack's BBQ (where, incidentally, I found out one of the Devils' beat reporters eats lunch when the team plays a game in Nashville; it's directly across from Bridgestone Arena, and the food is incredible; I tweeted this to him, to suggest a dining option, and he responded with, "Been there several times and will be going again for lunch tomorrow.")... We took a trolley tour, and walked up and down Music Row, and looked at the Parthenon replica (weird), and went honkytonkin'. I can post pictures, if you're interested. And when we left, I left my heart behind.
5. And now, the song. I learned to drive on a manual car; I can drive stick like nobody's business. But we recently (read: about a year ago) had to switch cars, when our lease expired, and there were only automatics and so we had to settle for one of those (grrrrr). The first thing I noticed is how much more complacent I am when I'm behind the wheel of an automatic vis-a-vis a manual (also that once you take your foot off the brake, it moves forward right away). I drive more quickly, because there's no self-monitoring mechanism, such as shifting gears, involved, because the car does it for you, and (a) that's boring, and (b) it breeds less caution. I don't like it. But it's also, of course, easier. Which is the aspect of driving with an automatic I decided to write into the song. That's the focus of this story: the ease of driving with an automatic, where it's not difficult and it transitions easily from one moment to the next.
I should mention that the melody I've attached to this song has been stuck in my head ever since the trip to Nashville in August, when I came up with it. I'm not even kidding. But that made it tremendously easier to come up with lyrics, because the melody, and therefore the melodic constraints, were all there.
Also, I started this song during a class last year and finished it 2 January - I don't have that written, but I remember it vividly, because I finished it during the third period/overtime of the Devils game vs. the Ottawa Senators (they lost, mostly because David Clarkson got a penalty in OT and that was that; it was also the last game until March that Travis Zajac played, because of his Achilles injury flaring up.)
And so, I present:
Driving With an Automatic
sometimes I think we're not working hard enough
all these years together and we're still in love
don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining
it's just surreal to keep explaining
how this works for us,
(but still)
CHORUS:
it's like driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
one hand on the wheel, one hand in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
our future is the untravelled road ahead
taking this ride is not something we'll regret
changing us is unnecessary
as long as we're not stationary
always side by side, we said
CHORUS:
it's like driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
one hand on the wheel, one hand in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
(instrumental break/bridge)
'cause we're driving with an automatic
we don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
when you're driving with an automatic
don't even have to think about it
everything just comes so easily
there's a guarantee we're moving forward
both hands on the wheel*, my heart in yours
that's the way it is with you and me
that's the way it is with you and me....
*I had to put that. I'm a very safe driver, and I play by all the rules. In fact, when he and I left Starbucks and got into his car (which was, I noticed, an automatic), we were talking about driving, and he mentioned, "Yeah, you seem like a very '10 and 2' person." Which, he was right, I am. So I had to include that in the song because I don't advocate recklessness.
Please have noticed that I am very much getting started with my love song period. Like Picasso, only much less talented.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
Well, it must've been hard, it must've been tough, keeping up with crazy fools like us.
01 July 2012
Holding Out For You
New song alert: "Ignition," by Matt Stillwell. I cannot get over the way he sings the end of the first line of the chorus, "to the side of the highway..." He kills it. And now, I must turn it on - excuse me for a moment, please.
Okay, back. The song is playing now.
Now, since I've already posted rather recently (ha, ha), I'll just progress to the song referenced in the title. Apparently, the phrase means something fairly different from what I originally thought it did when I wrote the song, but I didn't know it at the time. It was only when I showed someone the bridge, and she said, "Oh, I like how you went many different ways with that expression," that I figured it out. Oh, well. I'm sure you'll understand once you get through it once (because I don't expect you to read these things more than just the one time).
The date my notebook gives me about this song is 12 August 2011. I distinctly remember having written this song some time before that on my iPod (with the Notes function), and then forgetting about it, rediscovering it in the fall sometime with a pleasant semi-shock.
Also, I should mention that I don't know a "Dan." I made him up.
Holding Out For You
my good friend Dan has all but told me he loves me
he pretends he doesn't, but I've guessed the truth
the thing is, he's not the only one hiding how he feels
'cause what you're not seeing is, I only have eyes for you
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I've somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
this is the wrong way to go about falling in love
but no one ever had a cookie cutter for the rest of your life
so I guess I'm either waiting for him to give up
or for you to eventually realise
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I've somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
BRIDGE:
holding out hope that you'll break up with her
holding out hope that you love me, too
holding out hope that I won't forever
be holding out hope for you
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you, without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I'm somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
I could be holding onto him, but, baby, I'm holding out for you
yes, I'm holding out for you
I don't care what anyone says, but the line about no one having a "cookie cutter for the rest of your life" is one of my absolute favourites which I have ever written. It actually inspired my new twitter handle, when I wanted to change it in an effort to erase myself - I went from "countrymusik19" to a version of the aforementioned line.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness, like resignation to the end - always the end.
p.s. Since the day Pat Burns died, I've had issues with insomnia - that's not to say I think the two things are related, but it's just strange that they happened to coincide. Today, it's worse than it has been; 2:45 AM and I'm not in the mood to sleep. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm meeting this guy tomorrow (today, really) for lunch, and I hate him but every part of me wants, desperately, to see him again. If you've been keeping up with me on this blog, you'll know who it is. And you'll know that it's been years, but perhaps you'll also know that, after loving someone so passionately for a period of time and having your entire self broken under that weight (and under the crushing remembrance of saying, "I...like you...a lot," and hearing the response, "I have that effect on a lot of people"), it's hard to let go of the interior turmoil caused by a simple text message or a casually brushed-upon memory. A friend of mine warned me to guard my heart, but it's my mind I'm worried about.
p.p.s. Tomorrow (read: today) is also NHL free agency. Which brings about nerves of its own. Thankfully, I'm covered on that end, too. Hopefully, my naivete about human nature will not be shattered tomorrow (today), and can live fully on to disappoint me some other day.
Okay, back. The song is playing now.
Now, since I've already posted rather recently (ha, ha), I'll just progress to the song referenced in the title. Apparently, the phrase means something fairly different from what I originally thought it did when I wrote the song, but I didn't know it at the time. It was only when I showed someone the bridge, and she said, "Oh, I like how you went many different ways with that expression," that I figured it out. Oh, well. I'm sure you'll understand once you get through it once (because I don't expect you to read these things more than just the one time).
The date my notebook gives me about this song is 12 August 2011. I distinctly remember having written this song some time before that on my iPod (with the Notes function), and then forgetting about it, rediscovering it in the fall sometime with a pleasant semi-shock.
Also, I should mention that I don't know a "Dan." I made him up.
Holding Out For You
my good friend Dan has all but told me he loves me
he pretends he doesn't, but I've guessed the truth
the thing is, he's not the only one hiding how he feels
'cause what you're not seeing is, I only have eyes for you
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I've somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
this is the wrong way to go about falling in love
but no one ever had a cookie cutter for the rest of your life
so I guess I'm either waiting for him to give up
or for you to eventually realise
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I've somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
BRIDGE:
holding out hope that you'll break up with her
holding out hope that you love me, too
holding out hope that I won't forever
be holding out hope for you
CHORUS:
he and I could be building something, I might be making a huge mistake
I'm giving up a lot for you, without even knowing if you feel the same way
but I'm somehow got to believe, it's my heart I'm listening to
so instead of holding onto him, I'm holding out for you
I could be holding onto him, but, baby, I'm holding out for you
yes, I'm holding out for you
I don't care what anyone says, but the line about no one having a "cookie cutter for the rest of your life" is one of my absolute favourites which I have ever written. It actually inspired my new twitter handle, when I wanted to change it in an effort to erase myself - I went from "countrymusik19" to a version of the aforementioned line.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness, like resignation to the end - always the end.
p.s. Since the day Pat Burns died, I've had issues with insomnia - that's not to say I think the two things are related, but it's just strange that they happened to coincide. Today, it's worse than it has been; 2:45 AM and I'm not in the mood to sleep. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm meeting this guy tomorrow (today, really) for lunch, and I hate him but every part of me wants, desperately, to see him again. If you've been keeping up with me on this blog, you'll know who it is. And you'll know that it's been years, but perhaps you'll also know that, after loving someone so passionately for a period of time and having your entire self broken under that weight (and under the crushing remembrance of saying, "I...like you...a lot," and hearing the response, "I have that effect on a lot of people"), it's hard to let go of the interior turmoil caused by a simple text message or a casually brushed-upon memory. A friend of mine warned me to guard my heart, but it's my mind I'm worried about.
p.p.s. Tomorrow (read: today) is also NHL free agency. Which brings about nerves of its own. Thankfully, I'm covered on that end, too. Hopefully, my naivete about human nature will not be shattered tomorrow (today), and can live fully on to disappoint me some other day.
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