San Jose, Milpitas, Pacifica, San Francisco, Fresno, Frazier Park, Jackson. All in the last couple weeks.
Every town has its own flavor. How do people end up living where they do? I guess most do not get to choose, but what if you could? If you could spin a globe and point, where would your finger stop?
So I went up to Norcal this weekend and my car stranded me right before the Grapevine, 80 miles out of LA, at midnight last night. I got into work today at like 1:30, right before a meeting that I was unprepared for. Car is more or less okay. Details and pics later...
...when we don't have it we lust for it and when we do have it we're not sure what to do with it.
One evening last summer, about 8 or 9 o'clock on a weekday, I went out to my building's patio with an electric guitar. My fingers found two chords that sounded interesting together and the sky reminded me of the stars I've seen in less light polluted places. I started to string together some words.
This song came out over the next couple of days and I recorded it so I wouldn't forget it. Then I forgot it. I found it again last week and messed around with it. It's rough, I think you can hear Elliot's voice in the beginning if you turn it up. I experimented with drums in Fruity Loops, virtual amplifiers, crappy synth playing, and T-Pain style autotune. Enjoy!
Also, I realized I haven't taken any real pictures in a while, so I made a quick video for it last night.
The stars are out tonight The skies are filled with light Galaxies come and sit within reach of these fingertips As I wander As I forget everything
And the sound of silence overwhelms me Can you hear the wind echo like thunder As cars drive by they sing their song Spirit come and stand beside me
Maybe I'll die Maybe I'll die Maybe I'll die on this patio tonight
The concept for this song came to me two summers ago while I was living in Cerritos and commuting to work by bike, train, and skateboard. It's about 4 miles along the San Gabriel River from my parent's house to the train station. If you haven't seen the rivers in LA, they are massive slabs of concrete shaped like a V to channel water from inland to the the Pacific. Sometimes after a rain the water level rises, but most of the time it is just a trickle. They usually have a walkway running along either side with entrances at various overpasses and neighborhoods.
I would bike with my skateboard strapped to my backpack from my house to the train station, ride the Greenline to El Segundo and skateboard the half-mile to my office. I remember learning how to slow myself down after 5 whirlwind years as an undergrad. Learning how to adjust to life in the real world. Learning how to enjoy the journey.
And it was from my bicycle, along the river, that I watched the sun rise and the sun set every day. That river ran along poorer backyards and horse stables and industrial junkyards. Over the handlebars I saw a different universe hidden from suburban Los Angeles. I saw taggers trying to make their mark, couples stealing a moment of privacy, families fishing, cowboys giving their horses a workout, and the dregs of society trying to keep warm away from prying eyes.
It was a strange mix of worlds, but one that seemed to fit together somehow. It was separated from the ambitions and judgments and vanities of normal life. It was different. It was peaceful. I started writing about that concrete river two years ago but gave up until this song came out recently.
Does knowing more of the story behind a song make it more meaningful or would you rather come up with your own interpretation?
"The mould in which a key is made would be a strange thing, if you had never seen a key: and the key itself a strange thing if you had never seen a lock. Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the Divine substance."
-C.S. Lewis
Buffalo Crossing
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