10 years ago, bloated bodies floated in the water of NOLA as Hurricane Katrina’s storm surge overcame the levees.
I dreamed of drowning; water as emotion, emotion as water.
With so many brothers and sisters from Louisiana, I knew that unlike other tragedies, I would be unable to look away, unable to avoid the reality of what was happening in a city and state that has brought me great friendship and love.
I faced the deluge with my eyes and heart wide open.
Just Love is the sixth track on Turquoise Cyan Sapphire, my record of “nearly blues”.
Though this record saw me revisiting some older material
[as I did on Grope]
there are several completely new songs written while tracking the record, and Just Love is one of them. It arrived while noodling on my Cole Clark Angel in my dining room, which is rapidly becoming a songwriting hub for me
[ley lines, I think]
the first couplet providing th
Today, for the first time in almost a year, I added new words to RUFUS, one of my novels-in-progress.
I’m going to let that sink in for a moment
[for myself, more than for you, sorry]
The longest I shelved a novel – or at least one that got finished – was the 5 years when Do Sparrows Eat Butterflies? sat at 60 pages. I’ve written about the whys and wherefores of that block several times before, so I won’t cover the ground again. Besides, it’s hardly
The chords and melody for She Says She’s arrived at the about the same time as its sister track on Turquoise Cyan Sapphire, 50 Reasons. They both share a typical minor blues opening progression but then veer away from the traditional form
[to spice things up for myself and the listener]
I’d tried both chord sequences out at Common Ground Open Mic, so had a feel for the tempo and swing that each needed. As it turned out, She Says She’s was pretty much a first take pas
The silent boy found his choice found his voice found his noise
The silent boy now noisy boy made his choice made his noise
The noisy boy met with noise “QUIET!” they yelled silence your noise
The noisy boy made his choice opened his voice made more noise
The noisy boy found his voice met with silence stone-cold silence
Lower your expectations Nothing means anything until you say it means something We who make something of nothing We who lament the nothing expecting something Something and nothing Just the same Nothing and nothing just the same Lower your expectations Something that’s nothing might take you by surprise
Well, the sharper-eyed amongst you will have noticed, but here’s the official statement: Turquoise Cyan Sapphire was formally released yesterday
[digitally, with CD’s on their way mid- to late-August]
I’d love it if you listen to the record, though as someone who regularly lives up to the hash-tag #IBuyMusic, I would ask you to consider buying a copy
[I respect artists enough to not expect their effort and care for nothing]
Either way, hope you enjoy Turquoise
Thank you internet distraction!
I was watching a clip of Otis Redding at Monterey, which made me think of Steve Cropper, which got me watching some interview videos.
This one stood out:
Aside from his seeming to be a really, really nice guy, I was struck by the history as he represents it, and it reminded me of something to which I’ve long paid attention:
We look back on the greats, and we think there was something divine in their path, some meant to
All the fun… Such big fish such tiny ponds eating each other while blaming the other These smallest ponds don’t take much ego before seeking bulimia Is this high school? Surely not So many years ago why delude yourself my much aged compadré? Surely those hormones no longer surge nor course through your body You tin-pot ivory tower
If soloists tried singing and accompanying themselves on their own songs and singer songwriters tried soloing along with others’ voice then when the jam came they would know to throw to a solo let it build to a climax they would know when to vamp and when simply NOT to play This is how we listen to each other This is how we make each other shine This is the growth of the jam