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Overview
Ani Difranco sings,
"People used to make records, as in a record
of an event, the event of people playing music in a room."
This is like that, but with only one person and no room! "We
recorded these songs on Nathan Whitehead's porch between June 30, 8 AM
and July 3, 7 AM." That's all I'll give
away from the album's rather wordy (as usual) liner notes, but I would
like to add some thoughts on the project as a whole:
I may very well spend my career saying, "You've got me all wrong." One in the Door, One in the Grave was such a statement. You see, I'm very cautious and sensitive when it comes to people's perceptions of me, especially as an artist. After the release of the Starter Kit, I felt like I had...how-do-you-say...painted myself into a corner of cuteness. Don't get me wrong, I was and am very proud of my debut. It had its share of honest, personal material, too. But when the people of folkweb.com categorized the CD under "Funny Songs," I realized it was not presenting a complete picture of ol' Southpaw.
The songs on this second disc represent the kind I write when left to my own devices. When I'm not thinking about performing or getting attention or entertaining, I tend to lean toward the dark side. That's not to say that my more upbeat, happy, fun-loving songs are forced...they just take more juice from north of the eyebrows, if you know what I'm sayin'.
The songs that comprise Door/Grave are generally smooth, natural, quickly-written compositions. They are the works of which I am most proud. Whereas White Boy Blues, Communist Girlfriend, andAntique Mallderive from observing the world and making clever connections between its parts, the majority of these nine songs found their origins within. Isn't that neat?
When I Die
Another misunderstood
satire, this song is about the paralyzing nature of fear. The narrator
has a phobia of passing away in the nude, and the very thought of it keeps
him from living a vibrant, effective life. It doesn't fit in too
well with the feel of the remaining songs, so I brilliantly placed it first
on the CD. Oops.
Living Off Interest
I could have made this into a more humorous number with Wall Street references and financial puns, but it ended up being one of those annoyingly honest songs. I wrote it in college when I had alot on my mind and to-do list. It seemed the more active I became, the more girls were able to distract me. Ironic, that.
I wanted to paint a picture in the first verse of a guy walking toward a girl without even knowing it. Sort of a drawn in, hypnotized, tractor beam, orbital thing. He's so awestruck in his steps that he first thinks she's floating to him instead. I'm not sure I made that entirely clear. Oh, well. I guess I sort of redeemed myself with "I don't recall your lovely name." He may not know the actual word, but he's certain it's beautiful...I like that.
Like several of my tunes, Interest has just one line that ruins the whole mood...you know, the one about getting "bored with you someday." When I play this live, especially in front of new crowds, I really hate having to spit that phrase out. It's such an agent of deflation. A buzz-bringer-downer. Then again, it's that tinge of honesty that not only sets the song apart, but also shines a spotlight on infatuation's fleeting nature. Hey, it's not rocket science.
And there's something to be said for "...now it's safe to say..." If you're like me, and you've never had a long-long-term relationship, you have to make the most of those initial bursts of attraction and excitement. It's like, all that matters is that I'm totally into you RIGHT NOW! I can't guarantee anything else, and why should I apologize for that? Besides, what good is passion without a little clock-watching desperation thrown in?
MORE RECENT, PITHY THOUGHTS: Your garden variety infactuation song, and I should know, I've got a ton of them.
At a Phone Booth
I like to confuse
listeners with almost-autobiographical songs. The fun part is trying
to figure out which parts are the real me. I have definitely had
my struggles with the overall theme of fearing the adult world and job
market. Who hasn't?
Slab of Pie
I wrote this in high
school. I don't know how or why, but it just came out. This
is one of the very few songs from that era that I'm not embarrassed to
perform.
Nice to Stop
Ah, the pains of
young adulthood revisited. I chose the word "nice" because it is
a common adjective in the world of grown-ups. Not spectacular, not
ecstatic, just "nice."
Freshly-Picked
Flower
My proudest moment
thus far as a songwriter. Sure it's too long. Sure it'll never
be on the radio. But it's mine, and it's my most honest piece
of musical output. Hear it and love it, or you ain't no fan o' mine.
Missing Something
I came up with the
idea for this while sifting through a used CD store which boasted an impressive
inventory. I just knew that there was no way I could see it all before
I left. Imagine all the great artists and values I had passed by
unwittingly. I elevated my shopping woes to more philosophical concerns,
and BAM, it's a song! I like to think it encourages listeners to
pursue a more alert day-to-day existence. Unfortunately, I've heard
rumors that it encourages listeners to seek the "skip" button on their
stereos.
Adjusting
Much like "Slab of
Pie," this song is two stories of strangers followed by a more personal
reaction. The second verse was inspired by a rerun of "Punky Brewster."
Everything is
Gonna Work Out
A shot of idealism to close out the disc. This is a song about the necessity, not believeability, of hope.
Underview
"Studio, shmudio!"
we said as we looked at the songs that fill this disc. I was about
to leave Nashville, and I wanted to record all these dark coming-of-age
songs before I left. I ended up on a backporch in suburban Nashville,
going through the nine tracks at different points during the night.
The effect, including crickets chirping, dogs barking, and eventually morning
birds singing, is quite beautiful, if I do say so myself.
©2005 Freshly Picked Music. All rights reserved.