A song about my mother.
startled
My ignorance of stars is formidable, also of boys, and booze. I knew a moonshiner once, a man with boots so glossy the moon often got caught in them, but a mouth so foul a cloud hovered over him incessantly. Between the moon in his boots and the cloud overhead, this man never saw the stars. My ignorance exceeds even his. I, who have seen the stars, both those in the sky and those in your thighs– I am twice as ignorant as that filthy moonshiner.
Rilke was a jerk, some say, a man whose cruelty to kittens and ruthlessness towards rats on strings was legendary. He ground boy’s bones to make his bed, and ate nothing but desire for one month straight– the month of April it was, or so I think, the cruelest month, you know.
I, who have held both men and babes as they wept, who have done a little dance to brighten the day of both fool and sage– I am thrice as cruel as that cruel, cruel man.
You startled me like a fallen gown, coming out of the dark as you did, offering me coffee to thaw the frost in my heart. Your canvas shoes, the color of dust (come into the shadow of this red rock) were ill-suited to the rough terrain you seemed destined to trod. (I will show you love in a handful of dust.)
Here and there were treasures–a rock of particular smoothness; a flower of exquisite beauty, in full bloom; a waterfall, the sound of which drove all din of unhappiness from your mind. Still, these rewards were far apart, and in between the road was hard. Rocks lodged themselves in your shoes, causing both blister and cut. Rain drenched you and left you shivering.
The sun, after a cursory warming, burned you til your skin was shed like the pages of some perfectionist’s manuscript.
You startled me like a fallen gown.
I did not know what to do with you, so I sent you on your way even as I walked by your side. I pointed out the treasures that I saw, and carried some for you when your load became too much. The rocks that cut you cut me as well, and the weather you bore took its toll of me too. It seems that everything has been taken but your teeth, and you’d dearly love to sight my moonshiner friend and the boon he brings. Even the commonplace cruelty of Rilke would be welcome now– taunts and tricks, low blows and cuts, now that’s a pain a man can understand.
Your ignorance of this quiet hysteria exceeds even my ignorance of the stars, and the cruelty it visits you exceeds even the cruelty I possess.
I startled you like a fallen gown, and now you have a final sense of being right out in the cold, unkissed.
I would not leave you so, but before I can kiss you, I need this shard removed from my eye– tears have not dislodged it, nor whisky, nor smoke, nor a violent shaking of the head. I’m afraid it won’t ever come out, and my sight will be forever blemished. I have a picture, you see, that I’d dearly love to see again– a picture of a boy in faded canvas shoes, coffee cup in hand—
I don’t know what else to write.
—The Whiskey Song (2012)
I wrote this song around 2004 or 2005 about a young man I had a crush on. This is the 3rd or 4th version. It’s my own personal Freebird. I did this pretty fast so forgive the mistakes.
show: Duck & Goose, Ty Maxon, Rachele Eve
I’m a sucker for harmonies and last night’s show at the Hideout certainly didn’t disappoint in that department. Duck & Goose kicked off the night, and as soon as I heard the banjo I knew I was in the best kind of trouble (banjo, next to harmonies, is my musical weakness; throw in a trumpet and I just might die). There was also slide guitar, percussive beats, and a broken string to end the set in the most folk rock star fashion.
Ty Maxon was up next to celebrate the release of his new albm, Calling of the Crows. Rachele Eve joined him for several songs, and their voices couldn’t blend together any more perfectly than they did. Often with harmonies it’s not just the notes that are being sung, but the way the timbres of those voices and notes mingle together. Ty’s & Rachele’s have a great blend, and I hope they keep singing together. Ryan Suzuka played harmonica for the set. Ryan’s harmonica style is very distinctive, and almost sounds like a third voice at times—sometimes keening, sometimes bawling, it gives a bit of a rough edge to Ty’s smooth vocals and guitar playing, adding a texture that keeps you following along.
Early in Ty’s set he played “to theoda”, one of my favorite songs of his (one of my favorite songs, period), and I’m not sure if it was the starry lights of the Hideout, or the fact that the crowd and stage was full of people I thoroughly enjoy and admire, or the shot of Jameson I had upon arrival (thanks, Ciso), or memories of my own grandmother who never got to hear me sing my own songs, but I was seriously afraid I was going to start crying in the middle of the show. But then shortly after that Ryan started taking pictures of Ty and the stage and himself, and I laughed heartily.
Rachele Eve closed out the night with two cello players (whose names I heard several times but sadly didn’t commit to memory) and Cyndy Fike of Nelken on background vocals. (It’s simply magical to me that Eve is able to corral this much talent on one stage, on one night, when I am simply elated when I can get through a 3 song open mic set without hitting my teeth on the microphone. Yes, that has happened; repeatedly, in fact.) All these elements blended together to create a warm wash of sound that was the perfect ending to such a warm, wonderful night.
A++, would listen again, fast shipping, great communication.
La Club Owners
Musicians make music, bars and clubs should help promote.
emotional (by gemma correll)
whiskey eyes
new song lyrics. video of performance to appear shortly. Apologies to Moe Provencher and Leonard Cohen.
E A B7
I don’t know what I think will make you happy
But I guess I know that it isn’t me
Even though each time we’re together we can’t stop laughing
And somehow your hand always ends up on my knee
Your whiskey eyes don’t tell me what you’re thinking
Your measured words don’t tell me what you want
You only call me when you’ve been out drinking
You only want me when I can’t be caught
D A E
If I have been unkind
don’t you know that I didn’t think you’d mind
If I have been untrue
I didn’t know I had anyone to be true to
Civility’s the enemy of romance
Drunkenness the brighter side of love
If I had feet that fit I’d do a slow dance
But standing next to you is quite enough
Show me show me show me how you do it
Teach me how you lock your heart away
Draw a diagram of how I failed you
Sing a song of all I didn’t say
If I have been unkind
don’t you know that I didn’t think you’d mind
If I have been untrue
I didn’t know I had anyone to be true to
Bite me with your summerteeth my darling
Hold me with your icy winter hands
Dream me up a thousand different lifetimes
Write a book where you can be my man
I don’t know what I think will make you happy
But I guess I know that it isn’t me
Even though each time we’re together we can’t stop laughing
And somehow your hand always ends up on my knee
If I have been unkind
don’t you know that I didn’t think you’d mind
If I have been untrue
don’t you know it’s just a little trick I picked up from you
the thing about horses is
The thing about horses is this: they are stupid. A horse, if left alone with an excessive amount of food, will keep eating that food until it explodes.
