Out today on CDBaby. Soon to be on iTunes, Spotify, Amazon—wherever music lives. I wrote “Before Goodbye” to go along with my debut novel of the same name. You can get a copy of the song by clicking here. Hope you enjoy! “Before Goodbye” was recorded in Woodstock, NY and produced by the illustrious Kevin Salem.
Readers of Before Goodbye who asked about Cate’s songs, this is for you!
Hopefully she’ll be posting more music soon…
XoMimi
How cold of you, little heart
How sweet and liquid you tried to deceive
Little Heart is a subtle Valentine. Beautiful in its simplicity, the song grows more poignant and profound with each listen. Topping out at a minute and a half, Little Heart is short. To catch the full meaning of this delicate, minimalist piece, I recommend that you play it over and over, like I did.
An impressionistic wisp of a song, Little Heart consists only of a lead vocal and evocative background vocals, sung in pure tones and whispers. Vocals that sigh with yearning, even as the lyrics scold.
Lisa West, a songwriter from Denton, Texas who records under the name Faerytale, found her inspiration for Little Heart in the writings of Tolkien, and in the idea that, “we tend to be hardest on ourselves”.
How cold of you, little heart
How sweet and liquid you tried to deceive
Did you honestly believe my eyes did not see?
Now backtrack, little heart, now run
Do you honestly believe you run from me?
Try to find those paths by which you came
And be careful, little heart, you are lame
Cold, grey, victim of your own sway
I was not, we were not
Equals, little heart, friendly, kind
My eyes bore into your motive and we both saw
Run, little heart, run
Read more about Lisa West on EaRiE. Connect with her fb.
And—
Happy Valentines’s Day from Sirenstories
X♥X
The availability of digital recording software, apps, and dyi culture, coupled with the constant state of flux of the music industry, has allowed the process of home recording to become just as sophisticated and creative as studio recording. These days, plenty of talented musicians make their records at home.
And then there are the musicians that make their records sound like home.
That’s the case with Michelle Held—whose name is a speck of a song all its own, go ahead, say it aloud—a singer songwriter from Detroit, who “has a big heart and a guitar” and whose gorgeous song, God Damn I Don’t Know, (which she recorded at home), is a thing of beauty and provocation.
Somebody said I should believe in you
And somebody else said that you’re just not true
And the other guy he claims it’s just a vibration between the two
He said we’re always in motion
And the other guy says that’s just some magic notion he made up
To fill in the gaps
Everybody’s walkin along at their own accord tryin to get some sort of award
Cause they think it means somethin
But I don’t know I don’t know what it means anymore
I’m tryin to clear my head
I’m just walkin along thinkin about people who’re passed and dead
And I don’t know where they gone to
Thinkin about em makes me sad and blue
And it makes me wanna stay so damn true
But I don’t know I don’t know who to stay true to
Everybody’s right and singin their own song and if they sing it loud enough
They’ll be able to prove you wrong
But I don’t know I don’t know anymore
And the other guy says that I do know
And I got all I need to prove it’s so
But I don’t know I don’t know if he knows what he’s talkin about
Everything now seems strange to me
You seem weird too but don’t take that personally
Cause I don’t I don’t know what I’m talkin about
And if it’s true if it’s true that I do know
And I got all I need to prove it’s so
Well if that’s true if that’s true then why do I feel so God Damn blue
And now I’m afraid I just offended you
But those are just some letters that somebody threw together
And who’s to say who’s to say they have to remain that way
Maybe all that was once tried and true has grown
And what was set in stone has been blown it ain’t new no more but old
And all the stories we were sold how can you be sure that they still hold
Maybe the person who said it was black or white or good or bad
Was just as sad and blue as you and me and
Maybe he was trying to find his own way tryin to find a way to break free too
And the other guy said just take the time commit your mind
And sooner or later you’ll be fine
But I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know if he’s right
But I hope he’s right I hope what he’s sayin is true
And I hope this fight takes me from here to you
Cause if it don’t take me somewhere well that don’t seem fair
And you gotta remember the joy’s in the journey
But does the joy end after they wheel you out on that gurney
I don’t know I don’t know anymore . . .
Michelle Held has contributed several songs to the Sirenstories SoundCloud and God Damn I Don’t Know is my favorite. Although there are plenty of differences in style, for example Held’s voice is unparalleled when it comes to vibrato, Michelle Held makes me think of Rickie Lee Jones, early Michele Shocked, and Elizabeth Cotton—quite an aural cocktail.
God Damn I Don’t Know is a song written out frustration with life; not knowing what to do with it. Think Held’s figured it out, yeah?
Love the tags she used on SoundCloud: Indie. Folk. Tired of the Bullshit. Question Everything.
Please follow Michelle Held on fb and twitter.
Then check out Libby, still going strong at 92.
Exploring the music of R.M. Isaiah this morning has been a rich experience full of serendipity for me. I’d like to write a bit more about this, but I’m still reeling, and there’s too much I need to tell you about this great artist.
As you listen, you may find yourself comparing R.M. Isaiah‘s voice to the voice of legendary singer songwriter Tom Waits, and there are similarities. The amount of gravel in their throats for instance, is nearly the same. But there’s something softer about R.M. Isaiah and somehow more accessible. Less complicated, but no less poetic.
Your body I know is a wise man
A pawn in my collection of friends
There are books about Tom Waits, and I’m not going to try to sum up his style or his work here in a few sentences, but although truth lurks and snakes inside his songs, they are often performances, performance pieces. Tom Waits is a master at creating a cast of characters that strut and crawl across the stage of his songs.
But R.M. Isaiah is doing what Tom Waits was so floored by Dylan doing. He’s sitting down with the guitar and telling a story. There’s no circus. Isaiah is not a caricature of himself. Meanwhile High Witness, the band that Isaiah is a part of and who he recorded Master and Margarita with, creates the perfect bed for Isaiah’s voice to lie in. There’s no distraction. The first chord is so lush, for a second I thought I was going to be listening to a jazz tune, and even the shimmering cymbal crashes support Isaiah’s voice. Nothing gets in the way. There is one personality here, making music that’s earthy, mysterious, and immediate.
If you click through on the cover of the evocatively titled Numbers Have Their Way and visit R.M. Isaiah‘s bandcamp page, you’ll be able to listen to and download the digital album. I urge you to do this.
The song Master and Margarita intrigued me before I even heard it, because just as I was about to read the title my gaze slid across the screen and landed on the song’s label. It had been marked True Fiction.
You ask my about my trip to the labyrinth
But I can’t think of nothing to say
And that’s the only lie I heard. R.M. Isaiah has plenty to say, and I plan on listening.
Alternative, Indie, Postpunk. These are terms that describe the music of Parakeets.
As I listen to the energetic delivery and guitar riffs of iii I hear the influence of The Police. As I enjoy the insistent, slightly paranoid sounding vocals on iii I can’t help but think of The Talking Heads. The phrasing of the vocals in the beginning of iii actually reminds me of an old Steely Dan song, and there’s a bit of Interpol in Parakeets sound as well. But when the chorus comes in, the song is all David Byrne.
Except that iii isn’t a David Byrne song. It’s a Parakeets song.
Parakeets are from London and they left me this lovely note when I asked for more info about them:
“hi, yes we are parakeets were a alternative band from north london. We like to play for ourselves and work hard at what we do. I like to write and write and i love words. we work towards creating intense energy on stage and i like to harness nervousness and turn it into something energetic and exiting. we would like to see ourselves as a contemporary band on the cutting edge of the indie music scene. we are quite new and shiny we have been playing together as parakeets for just under a year and have played a few shows over the summer. we have recently recorded 11 tracks which are on our bandcamp page. we are currently working on new material at the moment and working toward 2 london dates on the 26th of nov at the enterprise and the 17th of december at the bowery. maybe a physical release isn’t far off.”
I’m looking forward to listening to more Parakeets, but for now, I’ll just pogo around my office.
I floated, greatly
To the graveled court yard
I flattered, shaky
‘neath the railed houses
my wound was a blessed
drenched pretty in red
III lost my sister
III lost my sister
The secret churches
Are not in this world
I looked at you and it cost me my life
Sick of break-point, carried, join us
Sickled tasker, married, asker
Sink-hole bellows from the
Terra-Madre
Kill her this way and kill her that way
We’ve got 5 days who stays who stays
So happy that it shed its skin
Climb high, dig deep, let the thoughts begin
III lost my sister
III lost my sister
The secret churches
Are not in this world
III lost my sister and
III love my sister
The birds sing nicer once or twice
A crippled right a troubled biter
quiet pace against
the past is tired again so
since the days without was pending
and up to . . .
And yes they are quite “new and shiny”, so do them a favor and click on the picture above to go to their fb page and ‘like’ them.
You Are Projecting from Bright Beams was just the kind of piece I needed to hear today. The beginning of the song is a slowly revealed spacious soundscape that cleared my head and took me away from my desk. Listening to You Are Projecting made me take a minute to just sit and breathe, and that reminded me that there are other things in my life that need my attention besides stories and queries, unfinished manuscripts, workshops, and websites.
Bright Beams marked their track as Lo Fi on the Sirenstories SoundCloud even though the production does become fairly thick with layers by the middle. Which is fine, but it’s the beginning of the piece that I love, with only a voice whispering, “Shh . . . ” the start of You Are Projecting is truly Lo Fi, and quite wonderful.
Laptop, Bedroom, Dreampop.
These are the words Bright Beams used to tag their song, and other than those three evocative words, they left no info for me on the Sirenstories SoundCloud. I can’t tell you who they are or where they’re from. I can’t tell you where they’re playing or even if they are ‘they’!
Kind of mysterious . . . but that’s how many Sirens are. Elusive and mysterious.
This is Bright Beams’ avatar. Sea or sky? From what I’ve read, Sirens inhabit both worlds. I think Bright Beams may as well.
Of course I Googled around, but sadly, I didn’t discover the identity or musical history of Bright Beams. I did however find this wonderful poem on my serendipity search. It was waiting for me on the lovely website of the Poetry Foundation.
Meet Mrs. McGee . . .
A total Siren, right?
Mrs. McGee is the teacher featured in What Do You Want to Be? a new picture book written by Beth Carter and illustrated by Leo Silva.
I ‘met’ Beth on author David Harrison‘s wonderful blog about two years ago. At that time, I was going to his blog almost every day for inspiration. David has written over eighty children’s books and runs a Word of the Month poetry contest on his site that’s great fun. If you need inspiration, I suggest you try it, the word prompt will get your pen moving. For me, the experience was more about community than contest, and I felt like my poems had a home on David’s site even though they were all really works in progress.
When she found out that What Do You Want to Be? was going to be published, Beth, who lives in Missouri, asked me if I would write a song to go along with her book. I said yes, and last weekend I went up to Woodstock with #MySonIs5 to record the track that What Do You Want to Be? inspired. Hope you enjoy it!
Here are a few pics of #MySonIs5 recording his part at Kevin Salem‘s studio in Woodstock.
After a while, what starts out as fun in the studio becomes work, and even #MySonIs5 begins to feel the pressure . . .
Finally he finishes, and takes a bow. #MySonIs5 has stamina in the studio and—what? What did you just ask me? Did I actually make him listen to old Grateful Dead on the drive home from Woodstock? Um.
Click on the pic of Mrs. McGee to get a copy of Beth Carter‘s book for your kids. If they like the song, tell Beth and she’ll probably send you a copy, or come back and listen any time here on Sirenstories.
To learn more about Beth Carter, visit her blog, Banter with Beth
What Do You Want To Be? Song lyrics
What do you want to be?
Asked Mrs. McGee
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
What do you want to be?
What do you want to be?
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
When I arrived at school today
My teacher smiled and said let’s play
Join me in a circle on the floor
She asked us all what we held dear
The people we loved to be near
And what we thought the future held in store
She gave us crayons & pens & pads
She said, no answer’s wrong or bad
Just think my friends then think a little more
Use pictures, words; free thoughts like birds
Express yourself and you’ll be heard
You’ll learn in part what you are all here for
What do you want to be?
Asked Mrs. McGee
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
What do you want to be?
What do you want to be?
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me (I don’t know!)
A baker or a builder,
Or a swimmer in the sea
A mommy having babies (Maybe!)
Or a maybe a daddy
A dentist, doctor, artist, author
Teacher, Forest ranger, or you might like to sing . . . (I’d like that!)
You can do anything! (Definitely.)
What do you want to be?
Asked Mrs. McGee
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
What do you want to be?
What do you want to be?
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
An astronaut, a lawyer
Or a farmer growing trees (Next stop outer space!)
The president, a fireman
A keeper keeping bees
A dancer, banker, preacher, painter
Help save things are endangered (Yeah, like pandas!) maybe you’ll sew . . .
You can give it a go! (I think I might want to think about this . . .)
What do you want to be?
Asked Mrs. McGee (A baseball player!)
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
What do you want to be?
What do you want to be? (A candy maker!)
Raise you hands high and share your dreams with me
(A cow!)
(I just want to be me.)
I believe in a deep earth smell and in the sound of the falling rain
In tripping over my heavy heart
And in getting up again
These are a few of the wonderful lines from I Believe by singer songwriter Denise Moser. Accompanied by a lovely acoustic guitar part and minimal rhythm track that includes a supportive piano, the line is delivered with quiet breath of a chuckle that immediately brings to mind the laughing singspeak of Alanis Morissette. Indeed, I Believe could be an early Alanis song, Alanis on a mellow day.
Denise Moser‘s vocal vibrato gives her a slightly tentative sound, as if she is exploring her voice and her ideas, perhaps for the first time. This doesn’t make her sound inexperienced, instead the slight quaver in her voice gives her performance a freshness, a newness. Her performance of I Believe is restrained—a quality I love—as if the she is hesitant to share her personal list of favorite things. These are the details of her delivery conspire to draw the listener in.
The fact that the lyrics of I Believe are a list of favorite things, brings to mind the Rodgers and Hammerstein song My Favorite Things, one of the greatest songs of all times and one of my personal favorites. I Believe will be forever linked in my mind to My Favorite Things, how cool is that?
I Believe expresses Denise Moser‘s love of nature and family while deftly exposing her love of love as well as her tenderness. Knee deep walks in snow, apologies, weaknesses, dreams; these are all on Denise’s list, which is a list of things literally stated or implied. Her use of strong yet simple images that often comfort make the song poetic, but it is the invisible things she sings about, and the way her slightly tremulous voice gently nudges us until our own emotions step forward for our examination, that makes the song art.
I Believe in a second chance and in a brand new fresh mistake . . .
My recommendation is that you listen to I Believe multiple times, because the song gets better with each listen. With every play the song reveals another corner of Denise Moser‘s heart and if you listen long enough to her honest, encouraging voice, you’ll find that your own heart will mostly likely yield some hidden pain or joy. It wasn’t until I’d listened to the song half a dozen times that I found myself in tears.
Let this song break you open and help you discover or rediscover your Dreaming Self. If you’re already living your dream, this song will be a faithful companion.
My wish for this Philadelphia singer songwriter is that she continues to write and share her music, and I’m sure she will, because she believes. I do too.
Click on the cover art by Alisa Lowden Preston to get your own copy of I Believe.
I believe in winter boots, and in clean slate snowy days
In knee deep walks through the neighborhood
And in a dried oak fire blaze
I believe in sleeping in, and in grasping at a fading dream
I believe in saying what I mean
I believe in I’m so sorry, and do you know I care
I believe in I can see you there
I believe in a deep earth smell and in the sound of the falling rain
In tripping over my heavy heart
And in getting up again
I believe in letting go of those things that I cannot change
I believe in reaching past my range
I believe in it’s my turn, and I’ve waited for too long
I believe in wishing on a song
I believe that what makes you you, well it’s the same thing that makes me me
That our differences are more the same
Than we ever would believe
I believe in my own words of in the beauty of today
I believe in brown hair turning gray
I believe in a second chance, and in a brand new fresh mistake
I believe in giving what I take
I believe I’m a daddy’s girl, and I’ve always had a broken heart
I’ve tried to find my way back home
And it’s never been that far
I believe in tenderness, and being kind in love
I believe the dreams that I dream of
I believe in magic stones and in taking off my shoes
Do you know – I believe in you…
I love this lyric:
Moving Day, I tore up your picture and packed the frame.
Check out Moving Day by Sensible Shoes.
Catch Sensible Shoes tonight at the Orchard House Cafe, NYC.
Read my earlier blog to learn more about the Vermont based band Sensible Shoes the group film director Jonathan Demme says, “Rules the blues news!”
Click on the poster to connect with Sensible Shoes on fb.
