The Songs
Two Broken Wings.
I didn’t get there in time to hear any last words from my dad,
so in attempt to keep my sanity I rented a beat up guitar and made them
up myself. My brother reported that Dad had risen from delirium momentarily
to observe how two of his fingers had been taped together for the IV.
“Two broken wings,” he had said. “How can I fly?”
It’s an apt epitaph for a man who always felt a little broken or
inadequate. Actually, I think it was just everything around him that was
cracked.
Sorry for the downer beginning.
Campfire for Two.
Here’s an unabashed love song written in honor of DJ and Leigh
Ann’s wedding. It’s very much a Kansas song and seeks to locate
love in the context of the primal planetary forces one might feel in a
night on the prairie. Standing out there in the midst of all that gravity
I always feel so, well, perpendicular, although perhaps leaning a little
towards the moon.
Did I mention that John Denver is from Kansas?
Hillary
This one was written several years ago, occasioned by a friend’s
tale of a bewildering romance, although the last verse calls up some of
my own earliest dream memories. I had been listening to a lot of Sam Phillips
and REM at the time.
This One Is Just Right
Another wedding song, this one for Jeff and Caroline. I love the lyric,
as it seeks to tie marriage into our fundamental cultural fabric as represented
by nursery rhymes and fairy tales. Love and fear, rebirth and mortal danger.
Marriage is primal.
It’s a simple song with a simple arrangement, and it’s over
five minutes long. It’ll either evoke a dreamy Nick Drake vibe or
it’ll bore you to tears.
Let the Words
This is about communication in relationships, or more accurately a hiatus
of communication. I indulged in the feeling long enough to get a good
song out of it. Not to over-interpret.
Goodbye to Beigeland.
Written from a woman’s point of view (!) as she gives up on the
dream of man-centered suburban upward mobility and heads back to the country.
I had wanted to write a song about sprawl, and I wanted to write something
that theoretically might have commercial appeal. Yeah right, try putting
those together. Think Dixie Chicks.
Christmas Day (1968)
A totally presumptuous effort to tell the tale of my friend Mike. As
a GI in Viet Nam, his unit was ordered to cross over into Cambodia and
shoot up some villages on Christmas day. After all, the truce was not
in effect there since we weren’t really fighting there, were we?
I don’t think he’s slept through the night since. Written
with love and appreciation. It could have been me.
Chiggers, Ticks, Spiders, and Snakes
Written in honor of Leona’s childhood summers spent at her Grandparents
place. They had this little pissant farm in the Ozarks. Everyone had to
pitch in if you wanted to eat. I could go for some of that blackberry
cobbler right now. Beats factory food all to hell. Better check for ticks,
though.
To the Sea
This was inspired by my friend Mark Cederborg’s work on the campaign
to liberate the Tuolumne River and restore the Hetch Hetchy valley. Environmental
songs are tough to write, and yeah there are plenty of people on the west
coast better qualified to do this, but hey, I wanted to chip in. From
the river’s point of view it becomes a tale of unfulfilled love
and longing.
Little Red X
This song begins our long slide into home. You can think of it as the
first song I wrote for Kestrel, my daughter, although at the time I hadn’t
met her yet.
Kestrel, She Flies
A love song for our baby daughter.
Cloud Shape Animals
Another sentimental parents’ song, but a damn fine one I believe.
The best songs simply tell the truth. This one runs from innocence to
mortality and beyond. Watch out.
First Spark
This was the original closer for the album, written for Leona as an invitation
to for renewal and rediscovery. Compulsively honest, I dragged this poor
song through the pain. I’m not sure it succeeds as a love song,
but it’s the most musically complex piece here, and interesting
in that respect.
Late Bloomer
It was an afterthought really, suggested by a query from a friend as
to where was the title track. But now I love this silly little personal
anthem, and it really tells the story of the choice of a title for this
collection. I’m bloomin’ right on time, dammit. Or maybe just
in time, one never knows.
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