Song stories

Going back over these old songs has made me remember quite a few things I'd have forgotten otherwise.  It seems music either holds or unlocks memories -- which is pretty interesting.

Returning to my chronology -- and realizing that few people are going to be interested in the actual songs, let me sketch out what memories they evoke.

Another early song is See You Again, which comes from c1989 or so, give or take a couple of years.  I was able to get my brother to play guitar on that one too, though that version is not the one you can hear.  I was thinking about this, and I can see the bedroom of the house in Charlottesville where I lived where I was writing an earlier song, "Not at This Address," which my brother put a lead guitar part on.  I think this one was written and recorded there too.  That was back in the days of the 4 track recorder, incidentally, so there weren't that many tracks to play around with for me and I couldn't do a good job of cutting and pasting guitar parts if I couldn't play them, which I never could back then.  So I was always relieved when he would take an interest in putting down some guitars.  I couldn't figure out what it was that prompted him to want to do it or not to want to do it, because he was pretty variable about it.

He's older than me by about 18 months, and I am pretty sure it came as a shock that I was born.  I think being parsimonious with his guitar was one way of getting back at me for the egregious injustice that my birth was to him.  I didn't know, or even suspect that at the time, but I had a dream some years ago that made the issue much more plain to me.  Dreams always come into it somewhere for me.

In this one, I had my baby son Alex with me near a shore line.  My brother came along, and somehow he got my son from me and stepped onto a piece of land that broke away from where I was and floated out into the water, receding rapidly.  The look on his face was a mix of naked loathing and triumph.

How do I connect that to how he treated me with music?  Well, that dream came at a time when we were trying to work together on a project, but there were lots of problems that kept coming up.  I was trying to get at the problems, but then something else would happen.  After the dream, it became plain to me -- the problems were part of the plan.  There wasn't ever going to be a musical project.

It wasn't something he was doing consciously, but we are responsible for that unconscious part of ourselves too, so I learned then that I'd be better off working on my own, and I have.  Since that time I've learned how to play the guitar quite a bit better than I used to, and I fudge where I need it.

The song, "See You Again," was written about an ex-girlfriend that I was afraid I'd run into since we lived in the same town.  But as I wrote, it turned into a song about some possibility existing that the relationship could be rekindled.  That wasn't the case in truth, and I didn't want it to be, but the song wanted to be more hopeful about things than I was.  It was one of the first times I ever let a song be what it wanted to be rather than jamming my truth onto it.  I was uncomfortable with the lyrics but I lived with them.  Listening now, I can hear the terrible reverby production I used back then.  But I like how the vocals and backing vocals sit with each other.

Another song that was written at the same time was Stay Around.  I have found that I often write songs in threes.  There were these two and one other that I can't find a copy of right now.  This version of "Stay Around" is the original with my brother's lead guitar playing on it.  Listening to it now, I really like the fills he added in between leads.  I never would have thought of those.

In those days, I had the idea that a song is best when it's had more than one person working on it.  I still believe that.  It's incredibly hard to get anyone interested in collaborating with you when you are as socially awkward and reserved as I am so I don't have a lot of evidence, but I think the little fills and the intricate plucking pattern in the bridge of this song show that it's true.

Now the best part of this tune is the bridge.  It still hits me right when I hear it.  That bass, one of my Rickenbackers, had a good tone for it.  I should have just kept that one!  It was a nice 4003 in white, though it was turning creme with age.  The baseline I have there is just right.

I suppose this song is informed by the many years I spent as a bartender at this time.  I surely served plenty of people who had that "stay around" bonhomie vibe going on.  I never have really had it myself, on account of my aforementioned reservedness.  Most people thought/think that I'm full of myself, and I probably am a little because what artist isn't?  But mostly I'm just another one of those people for whom human contact is work.