MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 7: "Two Souls Meet in the City"

Welcome to my blog! This is the latest in a series of "Album Preview" posts I'm doing to raise awareness (and hopefully excitement) for my upcoming album. I need your help! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com to donate to help make the album happen. Thank you, and enjoy the post!

"Two Souls Meet in the City"

My time in New York has shown me that at the core of this city is a real and true heart. And to see it in action seems to be more rare as days go by. Even more rare is meeting someone who "gets it."

["Gets It" - a phrase referring to a person who is chasing a very lofty life's dream; appreciates fine art, music, and food, but also simple pleasures like a campfire; recognizes the actual important parts of life, especially laughter; remains calm under most kinds of duress; exceedingly passionate.]

When someone makes an effort to self-disclose on the same level as you, it becomes this beautiful moment where two people begin to share things deeper than language and action. When two people intentionally become vulnerable to one another, there is a special bond that forms. In the same way a dog exposes his underside to his master, so do we people show our shortcomings and scars to another person once a great deal of trust is gained. Electricity flows in those moments, and we get hazy and foggy in the head, in a very good way. It seems all time, space, physics, chemistry, and cultural laws pause, that suddenly breathing and a heartbeat are non-factors, and you exist beyond being just a body or a mind.

You see, I was a chubby, naive, wanna-be musician from upstate New York, with no real street smarts, trying to meet some girl who I could write music about, and hoping badly to fall in love. In many ways, I still am all those things. As much as I loved to think I was living the ultimate New York experience, I lived an hour from my job in the city, and traveled most weekends away from it.

She was a successful businesswoman and designer, considering her age, who moved here from Florida to live life. She always sought adventure, new places, and knew how to cook well, to cook healthy, and knew a great deal about wine. She appreciated great movies, and stupid silly ones. She adored music, and words and melody moved her in the way they moved me. She had a way of looking at you as if you were not just your outward appearance. She knew what the "form" version of me was, too.

["form" version, referring to Plato's idea of forms. Meaning, there are archetypes of everything, and everyone, from which we compare what our senses see. Example, how do you know that a chair is a chair, even if you have not seen it before? Plato argues because there is an archetype chair, a more real chair, than the one we see. We are born with the knowledge of the archetypes. There are TONS more to it, but that's the really skinny version.]

She knew that my outward appearance was a shorter version of me, a bigger version of my real self, and she came to appreciate that person I was inside this body.

And so, when we met, it was magic. It was fulfilling and satisfying and enchanting all at once. She was willing to share of herself with me, too, and I was intimidated by meeting a woman that could literally run circles around me with her mind. When we would see each other, it was a suspension of all time and space.

Have you ever seen the movie, "Big Fish"? The one directed by Tim Burton, starring Ewan Mcgregor and Billy Crudup. In particular, the circus scene, where he first sees his future wife. You can see the clip here:



That's what I mean. It was like that. This is very similar to what happens in my song "Two Souls Meet in the City."

I finally had felt I met someone on this island of Manhattan that was as real and understanding of what is important in life as me. That everyone else, it seemed, was empty, cavernous spaces inside their bodies, and when the two of us crossed paths, it was an occasion for the entire metropolis to behold. It was a two or three hour city-wide holiday, where all businesses would allow employees the time to come see a viewing of she and I, together, somewhere in the West Village, and gaze at the two real people walking around these city blocks. Even the cab drivers would stop and watch. Being with her was a spectacle. Or so it felt.

I began writing the chorus to the song based on an email I sent her when I was away, and once I wrote it I was literally singing it and dancing around my apartment. I had recently really gotten into some John Legend, especially his second disc, which is very jazzy and soulful. I also saw his live band on TV, and his backup singers absolutely slay it. So this song is meant to be big, beautiful, and so groovy, all at once.

So "Two Souls Meet in the City" is about the absolutely astounding power of meeting an intellectual and spiritual equal. It's about rejecting the frivolous nature of New York City, and about love as a spectacle.

Here are the lyrics to "Two Souls Meet in the City"

When two souls meet in the city
Half of the world forgets we're all still spinning 'round
When two souls meet in the city
All of the traffic lights turn red all over town
And when you stand right here
And you make it clear
That you don't care if all the people wanna stare
Oh, when two souls meet in the city
You better be there.

Enter the girl
She always wants to see what's good
Always wants to step out in her neighborhood
Enter the boy
He's got his life wrapped up in song
Got his life wrapped up in what's gone wrong

And so they meet
Down on 42nd street
By the center of the world, they all convene
Oh, and they stare
And stare, and stare, and stare

When two souls meet in the city
Half of the world forgets we're all still spinning 'round
When two souls meet in the city
All of the traffic lights turn red all over town
And when you stand right here
And you make it clear
That you don't care if all the people wanna stare
Oh, when two souls meet in the city
You better be there.

Girl says to boy
'I wanna go downtown,
Want to see the Village lights go round and round and round'
Boy says to girl
'I'm just a short version of my brain
But all these things I think keep coming out the same'

So why don't we meet
Down on 42nd street
By the center of the world, they all convene
Oh, and they'll stare
And stare, and stare, and stare

You've got your saga now, and I've got mine
But we could share, if we give it time
You've got your saga now, and I've got mine
But we could share, if we give it time

Oh, when two souls meet in the city
Half of the world forgets we're all still spinning 'round
When two souls meet, when they greet in the city
All of the traffic lights turn red,
All the cabbies turn their head
And you better be there
You better be there
You better be there
You better be there.

The Heart of the city meets with two people who "get it." And it's wonderful.

Thanks for reading! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com today and reserve your copy of the upcoming album!

-John
www.myspace.com/johnschmitt

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 6: "So We Sing"

Thank you, and welcome to my blog! This is the latest in a series of "Album Preview" posts I'm doing to raise awareness (and hopefully excitement) for my upcoming album. I need your help! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com to donate to help make the album happen. Thank you again, and enjoy the post!

"So We Sing"

Writing for a particular purpose, topic, or for a job, is something I had never done before. It always seemed to be the least "noble" of things songwriters could do. Meaning, it is a completely respectful enterprise, but it does not capture what I believe is the purest form of songwriting: music that is almost entirely autobiographical, rooted in realism, that avoids cliches, and focuses on imagery and melody. All other pursuits around songwriting, while viable, often lucrative, and still very legit and respectable, did not interest me. I wanted to tell my story, in a way that others relate.

On New Years Eve 2008 I played a show at Bar 4 in Park Slope Brooklyn, home to one of the city's best open mics. Bar 4 is pretty small, with vintage furniture and little nooks sort of crammed in, but the bar is focused on the music, with the stage being the main attraction. I love playing there, and always have courteous, listening crowds.

That night, I met Lisa, a film director, and a colleague of hers. They mentioned enjoying my show, and wondered if I ever composed for film before. They were working on something Lisa wrote and directed, a short film, called "The Friendly Visit." Lisa asked for my email, and said she would be in touch.

About a week later I got a call from her, and we met a series of times to discuss music for "The Friendly Visit." I learned the movie is about a woman who recently had a miscarriage and then divorced, who joins an organization that visits with shut ins and the elderly. Upon visiting a woman one day, she meets a young girl who changes her life forever. Lisa wanted me to record some guitar music, just instrumental, for two areas in the film. The first is when the main character is sorting through the memories of her marriage and her miscarriage. The second is for the end, which is very happy and jovial.

We decided to meet once more, and I would finally see the film. It had not been finished yet, so I had explicit instructions to not show it to anyone, or discuss it with anyone.

I watched the film, which was about 20 minutes long, and what struck me was how the main character was constantly searching. She had this longing to be a part of someone or some community, yet most of her time seemed spent living in the previous ones she had been a part of. And then, it seemed, at the moment she stopped looking, she found what she wanted. Moreover, she didn't even know she wanted it, but she found it. A child.

I was now supposed to construct instrumental music for the film, based on seeing it. But suddenly, my sights become a bit more lofty: I would write a brand new song, to be played at the end of the film, to point to the joyous occasion of the main character. In fact, I started writing it as I waited for a taxi to pick me up from her apartment and take me home.

I came home, and started to write what came out to be the song "So We Sing." It's short, sweet, cheerful, and there's not much to it. But it speaks to the feeling of being redeemed - through another person, through yourself, and getting the chance to move forward.

I recorded what I wrote, and sent it to Lisa, who was thrilled at hearing the song. It fit perfectly at the end of the movie. My mother thought it was my best work to date, and my musician friends always love performing it with me when we do shows together.

Here's the lyrics to "So We Sing":

I wasn't looking for you, but I found you
Wasn't looking for you, but you found me
I've been searching for gold, since I was 12 years old
Wasn't looking for you, but you found me

And so we Sing, ahhh
And we say, do do do do
So we sing, ahhh
Oh oh oh oh

I gave up looking for you, when you found me
Gave up looking for you, 'cause you found me
You're lost on this road, come in out of the cold
I gave up looking for you, when you found me

And so we Sing, ahhh
And we say, do do do do
So we sing, ahhh
Oh oh oh oh

What you look for, what you look for
Oh, sometimes you can't hold
What you look for, what you look for
Isn't bought, and isn't sold
What you look for, what you look for
If you try again
What you look for what you look for
Come's back to you, my friend

And so we Sing, ahhh
And we say, do do do do
So we sing, ahhh
Oh oh oh oh

What you look for, what you look for
Oh, sometimes you can't hold
What you look for, what you look for
Isn't bought, and isn't sold
What you look for, what you look for
If you try again
What you look for what you look for
Come's back to you, my friend

The music is bouncy, with two-step bass line and tons and tons of harmony. Like 6 parts. One of the most fun songs I've ever written! I can't wait to lay it down soon.

So there's my first attempt at writing a song not rooted in my own life experiences. I did have a movie to use as a reference though, which helped! And I found it to be TOTALLY just as legit as when I wrote about myself, but a bit different. Like cooking for a dinner party as opposed to just yourself. It's a different kind of care.

Thank you for reading! I am getting great feedback about my album preview posts on here. If you like what you read, please consider visiting my site, www.johnschmittalbum.com, and consider donating towards making my record. It's the same as buying it when it's out, only your donation makes it actually possible! Thank you very much.

-John

"Finishing the Hat"

The song "Finishing the Hat" talks about George Seurat, a 19th century French Painter, and how he cannot escape his work to be with the woman he loves. It talks about the plight of an artist bound to their work, and how he cannot seem to put anything before his art, no person or place. And no one really seems to be able to understand that. If they could, they might be more forgiving when he seems to disregard or neglect those around him. Or why he must always stay to finish his work; finish painting the hat on the canvas. To create. And often times, the things and people the artists truly wants are no longer available to him when he is finally able to commit to them.

We artists toil and toil over our work. We struggle with the hopes of being remembered. We panic that we are wasting our lives. And we seem to never grasp the other joys in life the way someone else might. We bear this Creation Cross, the charge of making things, that others do not. We are asked on High to write Freedom, and to write truth about our experience. It is often a tough pill to swallow.

Making music is a beautiful life. I am completely blessed. But I also wrestle with the temptation of a more conventional life, with a career in medicine or education, and with being an art appreciator more than an art creator. Both are noble, I believe, but I cannot comprehend ever living that way.

For some reason, this song grabbed me today, as it has done dozens and dozens of times. Here's to Seurat, and his beautiful painting, "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte."

"Finishing the Hat"
by Stephen Sondheim

Yes, she looks for me - good.
Let her look for me to tell me why she left me-
As I always knew she would.
I had thought she understood.
They have never understood,
And no reason that they should.
But if anybody could...

Finishing the hat,
How you have to finish the hat.
How you watch the rest of the world
From a window
While you finish the hat.

Mapping out a sky.
What you feel like, planning a sky.
What you feel when voices that come
Through the window go
Until they distance and die,
Until there's nothing but sky

And how you're always turning back too late
From the grass or the stick
Or the dog or the light,
How the kind of woman willing to wait's
Not the kind that you want to find waiting
To return you to the night,
Dizzy from the height,
Coming from the hat.
Studying the hat,
Entering the world of the hat,
Reaching through the world of the hat
Like a window,
Back to this one from that.

Studying a face,
Stepping back to look at a face
Leaves a little space in the way like a window,
But to see-
It's the only way to see.

And when the Woman that You Wanted goes,
You can say to yourself, "Well, I give what I give."
But the Woman Who Won't Wait for You knows
That, however you live,
There's a part of you always standing by,
Mapping out the sky,
Finishing a hat...
Starting on a hat..
Finishing a hat...
Look, I made a hat...
Where there never was a hat

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 5: "Lament"

My song "Lament" is brand new, and in fact, I've only played it once live. I have had it written for about a year now, but it is not meant to be played solo acoustic, or with a band.

The music is heavily influenced by Rufus Wainwright, in particular his song "Agnus Dei." Angus Dei is Latin for "Lamb of God," and the song itself is so incredibly moving and magnificent. It employs an entire orchestra while Rufus sings over top of them:

"Agnus Dei
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Agnus dei
Agnus dei
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona nobis pacem
Dona nobis pacem
Pacem
Dona nobis pacem"

Which literally means:

"Lamb of God
Who takes away the sins of the world
Lamb of God
Lamb of God
Who takes away the sins of the world
Grant us peace
Grant us peace
Peace
Grant us peace"

These words are very straightforward to anyone raised Catholic or Christian. They are repeated several times over, with the music being the vehicle by which the meaning is conveyed. Classical music powerfully does this, and while I am certainly not an avid lover of classical music, I have been moved by Classical music and the non-verbal way it conveys emotion.

So, with my song, "Lament," I wanted to write a song where the music shaped and guided the feelings of the listener, as opposed to primarily the lyrics. In most my writing, the words are the most focused part of the song for me, and I felt I should step out of that.

Now, the words. I remember sitting in the backseat of Christina LaRocca's car, a dear friend of mine and great singer, and we had finished playing a show together in the Village. She offered to drive another friend home out to Canarsie in Brooklyn, and I was along for the trip. We were listening to the radio when Ingrid Michaelson's song "The Way I Am" came on. Being that everyone in the car knew Ingrid personally, and she was starting to completely explode onto the national music scene, we all were like "Hey!!!" when it came on.

Ingrid's music is always, always so intensely bittersweet. I think she is brilliant, and her business savvy is equally as brilliant. She helped to change and shape the music landscape. And, she put her entire soul into her record "Boys and Girls," and stayed true to the group of musicians that played with her from the start. Couldn't have happened to a nicer, more gracious woman.

However, I used to be very close to a member of her band, and we had an incredibly unfortunate, difficult, painful, and gut-wrenching falling out. I know now it was for the best that we part ways, but that certainly did not make it easy.

Anyways, the point is, hearing her song on the radio made me think of that friendship, and how sour it now was. And I how I honest-to-goodness did not miss it. My mourning of that relationship and bond was over. There were no more panic attacks, silent passes in the hallway, no more shit-talking to those close to me, and no more caring. I let go of the hold it had on me. I did not lament it anymore.

I started to sing the very first line of the song in the car then, and heard an orchestra in my head, but I did not really know how to quantify what I was hearing. I did not have anything to write with, and would just file the idea away with a bunch of other ideas I have.

When I came back to it a few days later, the phrase "I do not lament you anymore" seemed to jump off the page. What a strong yet vulnerable statement. I am telling you that I don't mourn you anymore. Isn't that still a sign of weakness? Are we ever really "over" someone, regardless of if it had romantic implications?

I was reminded of a prayer I used to recite when on retreat in college. I believe it was written by Thomas Merton, a Franciscan priest who had studied eastern religious meditation and spirituality, and was a pioneer of introducing such practices in Catholicism and Christianity. Particularly, he studied at St. Bonaventure University, where I was attending the retreat, in Olean, NY. The prayer is recited, line by line, and after each line you meditate on that particular phrase. It starts with one complete sentence, and each consecutive time it is recited, a word is knocked off, until you are read one word, "be." A command! To just exist. By then, you could attain a beautiful calm and center faster than any stimulus (like fresh tea) could provide. Here's the prayer:

"Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be."

The meanings of all those lines, when juxtaposed together, shed light on the meditative state: the first line charges you to employ physical restraint (to "be still"), mental retraint ( to "know"), and to calm anxiety (to "know that I am God"), and then broadens the scope. Through the first three lines, you wipe away the distractions of human life, until you finally are charged in the last line to simple "be." To me, the last line was always the toughest to accomplish. Existing without any other intrusion is so challenging, yet seems so easy. It is not a lazy or slouching state. It is a state of open-mindedness, of clear and empty thought. It is the state of the sponge about to be dipped into water.

So, that prayer has always stuck with me, and while I have not meditated on that for some time, I thought using the same literary device as that prayer with my one line, "I do not lament you anymore," could show the proud, yet vulnerable place someone is in when thinking things like that. Moreover, I constructed music that is parts bright, parts very dark, and parts very sad or longing, and it conveys more clearly the messages that each other lines hints at.

Here are the lyrics to "Lament":

I do not lament you anymore.
I do not lament you
I do not lament
I do not
I do
I do

I do not take chances with you.
I do not take chances
I do not take
I do not
I do
I do

So there is the song, very short, very to the point. A slightly bitter, yet more mature person is saying those words, and doing so from experience. The music will be entirely composed of strings - at least, that's the plan so far. Caleb and I are still working on this one. I am unsure how it will be received, but it's very out-of-the-ordinary for me. I wonder how it will live with the other songs on the album, but I feel it is important to share, as it hits at a specific, crucial moment of my life.

Thanks for reading! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute towards making my CD! Any donation is so greatly appreciated, and you are forever a part of the record!

-John
www.myspace.com/johnschmitt

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 4: "Song of Myself"

Before I begin, let me just say that the actual recordings of these songs is not yet underway. We are scheduled to record beginning March 11th in Philadelphia. This is a "story behind the song" I'm blogging about to raise awareness, and hopefully excitement, about the record. Visit www.johnschmittalbum.com to donate if you want to be a part of it!

"Song of Myself"

I've been writing "Song of Myself" since I was a junior in college. That is 6 years ago. I just finished it about three months ago!

This song, in particular, has always seemed to linger when I would write. I've gone through about 4 different choruses, a myriad of verses, spent time trying to co-write the song with someone else, and taken it with me to different continents all in the hopes of living an experience worth writing about, and getting it done.

I was listening to O.A.R. thanks to my friend Mark introducing it to me in his car once while visiting him in PA. The chord structures were very simple and repetitive, and the melodies were catchy, albeit loaded with a bit of cheese. I began noodling on my guitar and found a riff using 6ths that descended, which sounded great.

I started to try and sing over it, but I found writing something was enormously difficult. Not because of the chords, which were basic, but what was I getting at? I can't write about nothing. At the time, I was in college, no girlfriend, no real drama or issues; it was calm.

Thinking about those around me, it was apparent how people truly fall to the wayside most of the time. Or, how they "duck out", like someone would at a party, leaving without saying anything. And how particular we as men and women want to change our perspective partners to fall in line with what we envision them to be - taller, darker, more handsome, smarter. You see this constantly. Some guy who enjoys watching hockey and drinking beer in his underwear meets some girl that rocks his world. Next time you see him, he's in a button up shirt, khaki pants, and sipping wine.

There's nothing wrong with that! But amazing how we much always pay a "finder's fee" to the opposite sex, that we must learn something new or change something in order to be worth of another person's affections.

Or in my case, a girl I had been in very deep "like" with told me I was crazy for wanting to be a songwriter and musician. "You mean, like a Jason Mraz, musician?" "Yes." "But he's like, good. He's like good. No offense, but he's like GOOD." Sheesh.

So the first verse of "Song of Myself" is a product of those experiences. It's waking up alone for as long as you can remember, and thinking if you could just be skinnier, slightly taller, or have a better option for a career, you might be desired by someone.

Potential Verse 1:
"I meet women everyday
I meet women every way
And they always seem to duck out of my life
They want to change who I want to be,
They want to change my height, my age, my weight,
My personality
That's like their finder's fee"

The chorus has had a several incarnations, and has much more to do with my time spent both in Long Island for a summer and in Manchester, England. When I was on Long Island, I was living with one of my best friends and taking the train in on weekends to record some music on Staten Island.

On the way in, I kept trying to write something for the chorus. It was pouring outside, and so I used that as inspiration:

Potential Chorus:
"But it's raining
And right about now, another drop reminds me that
I'm here again
What I'm saying
Is I'm handing out my heart to you for free
Don't hold it above me"

It wasn't super catchy, but it was a start. I remember playing it for my good friend Kate, and she wasn't thrilled with it. So I let the song simmer a bit longer.

So we fast forward by a few short months, and I hop on a plane to England to study abroad in Manchester. It was only my second time on an aircraft, and it ended up being one of the best times of my life. I tried on a daily basis to harness my creativity, to write something epic and hard-hitting. I wanted so badly to do my best work as a musician in England, because it was such an amazing place. But there was no real inspirado - no English girl I was chasing, no real drama, just good friends and a good life. It wasn't enough to compel me.

In particular, I worked on this song. I wanted to make a statement about myself for once, and what I had to offer the world. But upon thinking about it, what did I really have to offer? In many ways, I tried to copy the styles of musicians I revered with my writing, and it was never as good. Not even close. I was not trying to become a good singer, and simply went through the motions when I performed.

In fact, the only thing that was even halfway "out of the ordinary" that happened to me there was the day before I left to return to America. One of the beautiful blonde barmaids at the Thirsty Scholar, the pub I would play open mic at every week, had become an acquaintance of mine. Aquaintance in the sense that I would see her there, speak for some time while she fetched me drinks, and this would recur every week for like 15 weeks. On my last day though, when I told her I was leaving, she called me over to the side of the bar, met me there, and gave me the biggest wet kiss on the lips I'd ever gotten, to this day. It was completely unexpected! It made my insides jump. She told me to never, ever stop singing. No matter what. God bless the British!

Potential Verse:
"It's to feeling so free, so content, and so high
When the British barmaid kisses you goodbye
And the lights down Oxford Road seem to melt
This must be a Song of Myself."

See, as a writer though, that is FAR too specific, and unless you know the entire back story, it would not really move you. Not to mention, as a writer, you must make your words be able to cross the gap between people, and make what I say shed light on something you experience. That is what makes things memorable, and makes for the best songs.

So, I scrapped that. I was not in the right head space. The song would need to simmer.

I return home from England, and return to normal college life. I had a new girlfriend, new roommates, and even more change. I decided to really "go" with the Song of Myself imagery, and call out Walt Whitman by name. I have always enjoyed his work, and remember reading his poems in high school English. Basically, I wanted to know how he did it. How did you write your Song?

New Chorus:
"Mr. Whitman, please, could you give me some advice
'Cause I'm not really sure if I'm doing it right
There aren't any women here to write about left
So this must be a Song of Myself"

I HATED the third line, the "There aren't any women here to write about left" part. It wasn't necessarily true, and was just a place filler until I came up with a better line. The third line in this chorus, by any conventional poetic form, is the most hard-hitting; all I could say right now was that there's no more "chicks" to write about. Blech.

Fast forward another year, and I am living in New York City. New loves, new experiences, new people, and a totally fresh perspective. It is here I learned lessons that I carry with me everyday. Through my close friends, I learned how valuable family is for one's health, how important it is to take a step back, and from a select few, what loving truly means, both romantically and to a friend. Therefore, my success or lack of success is not as paramount, if I have people around me that I cherish, love, and respect. And if I live well, if I am a good man, that, too, is a victory.

I attended a songwriting mini-retreat that my manager set up with two friends of mine, Tina Mathieu and Zach Hurd. In their own individual rights, they are brilliantly talented, and both very, very unique. Ginger, our manager, thought we might be able to pen a song together to promote to a pop artist to cut on their record. It was a lofty and unlikely goal, but it did focus and motivate us.

I mentioned my song, and how I've been stuck on it for some time now, and both Zach and Tina decided we should try and finish it. We spent hours singing what we could, getting stuck a few times, and eventually helped to form about 90% of the song as it exists today. We shifted the focus in the second verse to women, and how they sometimes live for other people by the way they dress and act. They fail, just as much as men do, to recognize when a man does not value their intellect or personality, in addition to how they look.

Second Verse:
"I see women everyday
I see women every way
Thinking a shorter skirt's gonna make that man go crazy
But does he listen to you talk?
I mean really listen to you talk
Then you could see
If the problem really lies with you and me"

So the problem came with the lack of a bridge. The song simply needed something to break it up for a bit, and take us on home to the outro, something I'll get to in a moment.

I thought long and hard on how to do this, and then took it back to Walt Whitman. I decided I would quote him briefly, and use it as a vehicle to the outro, which is the part I know people will have stuck in their heads.

Bridge:
"Two roads are diverging
And who knows which way to go?
My past, and present are merging
And I hear my mother's voice
I hear my mother's words
I hear my mother's voice
Say quietly, when I heard:"

Few things: first, Walt Whitman NEVER WROTE "Two roads diverged in a wood, I took the one less travelled." Robert Frost did! In my attempt to be clever, I grabbed a quote that has great meaning in this song, but with the wrong guy. My friend Ann pointed that out to me, and all I could do was laugh at my hubris. I like to think I know everything, and how funny it is to be humorously humbled. Still makes me laugh!

Second, my Mother is a tremendous woman and presence in my life. She really is. And if you've ever met her, you sense it, too, for yourself. Like my entire family, she is ironclad in her support of my musical pursuits. They are often the hardest pushers for me, especially in times I want to play it safe. So I wanted to pay homage to her somehow, in song. So I attributed the quote in the outro to her, even though she has never actually said those words to me. But her raising of me as a kid, and her support, speaks to it.

Outro:
"Be content in who you are
Be content in that you might not necessarily go far
But you'll try anyway"

And what does that mean? Well, it means that you can reach as high as you can, go as far as you can go, and success is not always defined by reaching the goal. It is defined by the man or woman you are; it is defined by the kind of life you live. Humility and sincerity are important traits every man or woman must possess, and to live good is to live well. And who knows? You might not make your dream. But you chase it as hard as you can. And you stare every obstacle in the face and decide to go through it, not around it, because you have the love of those around you that will always protect you.

So, in many ways, this song has been with me like height markings on the wall. You start with me being a teenager, and end with me being a man. And I hope you are moved by it. It is the most honest grouping of words I've ever been able to put together.

Here's the lyrics to "Song of Myself:"

"I meet women every day
I meet women every way
And they always seem to duck out of my life
They want to change who I want to be
They want to change my height, my age, my weight,
My personality
That's like their finder's fee

So don't hold it above me
Push and shove me
Say you love me
Where did all of this go?

Mr. Whitman, please, could you give me some advice
'Cause I'm not really sure if I'm doing it right
My inspiration is the only thing that's left
So this must be a Song of Myself

I see women everyday
I see women every way
Thinking a shorter skirt's gonna make that man go crazy
But does he listen to you talk?
I mean really listen to you talk
Then you could see
If the problem really lies with you and me

So don't hold it above me
Push and shove me
Say you love me
Where did chivalry go?

Mr. Whitman, please, could you give me some advice
'Cause I'm not really sure if I'm doing it right
My inspiration is the only thing that's left
So this must be a Song of Myself

Two roads are diverging
And who knows which way to go?
My past, and present are merging
And I hear my mother's voice
I hear my mother's words
I hear my mother's voice
Say quietly, when I heard:

Be content in who you are
Be content in that you might not necessarily go far
But you'll try anyway" (repeat)

Sorry for the long post, but there's a lot of personal history with this one. It's going to be a beautifully energetic gospel-based tune, and I cannot wait to get in the studio and groove on it.

Thanks for taking the time to read! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com if you wish to contribute to making this whole project happen! Your help is so greatly appreciated!

-John
www.myspace.com/johnschmitt

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 3: "February Here"

Unlike the other songs on my new record, "February Here" was written about 6 years ago, while in college. It is not a product of my living in New York, but has such a common theme as the rest of the music: hope, tinged with disappointment or longing.

The way the song actually was written comes from my time as an R.A. at SUNY Fredonia. I was working in an all-freshman male dorm called Chautauqua Hall ("Sha-TAH-Kwah"), on the third floor. Part of your duties of being an R.A. involves being "on duty" for a particular weekend, sitting at the front desk and signing in resident's guests for the night. It has considerable downtime, and that is where I honed my skills at table tennis and pool. It is where I got very good at playing video games, and where I would practice guitar.

It was February then, 2004, and I was sitting desk on a Friday night. My friend Ian, who was once a resident of mine, was away in Philadelphia seeing his girlfriend, and he allowed me to borrow his beautiful Martin acoustic guitar for the weekend. It was the nicest guitar I've ever held up to then.

So there I was, in the office, with my customary notebook, and I started to scribble out words, first just a stream of consciousness.

"Deja vu and all those catchy phrases that make the word so clear" - I had just learned in Social Psychology how cliches and axioms are human constructs designed to minimize anxiety and simplify situations. By creating a simple explanation for something otherwise complex, (i.e. a chain is only as strong as its weakest link), it becomes easier to decipher what is happening in the complex arena that is human interactions.

I then started thinking of how Valentine's Day was approaching rapidly; how this Valentine's Day would be the same as the other 18 Valentine's Days before it (1 was when I was dating someone, and I was 20 at the time). I was alone, very lonely, and the person I wanted to be with happened to be dating a friend of mine. The last time I was enjoying a Valentine's Day, I was in love, and it was high school. Since then, it has been a sad and sorry few years for me in my love life, and I was still in many ways suffering from the burns of that last real relationship ending. I found that I actually liked the way listening to very sad music made me feel; how I was not really cheered up, but rather, I had company down in the depths. To this day, there is something satisfactory about listening to what I normally refer to as "sad bastard music" and feeling sorry about myself - I can't explain it.

It's also amazing how new people, when you start to get to know them, and begin a journey in love or friendship, take you on a completely unique path. It's amazing how falling for someone versus another feels different in your life, and you can never truly capture the way it felt the first time. The person I wanted, I did not love...yet. But I wanted to know what loving her would feel like.

And so that whole feeling from that February, it seemed to be on repeat; it was always February here, in my cold, disconnect world. I was always feeling this loneliness, this longing, this sense of needing someone else to be whole again. And I was literally looking for it everywhere.

I see now, and have grown to appreciate, that I must be content in who I am (but that's for another song to discuss on this album).

I recorded the song in my dormroom, and added a myriad of guitar parts, and they all seemed to work together beautifully. It is, by far, my favorite musical composition of mine, and even seemed to impress Caleb when we were working on pre-production. It will be acoustic-based with some electronic elements, similar to what my friends Nathan and Becky did on their Barnaby Bright CD, "Wake the Hero." It's Imogen Heap without the auto-tune, if that makes sense.

Here are the lyrics to "February Here:"

Deja vu and all those catchy phrases
That make the world so clear
I wrote them down, I wrote the times and places
I think that I've been here before

Before you came I saw the world in seasons
Like winter, fall, and spring
So when it snows it's always summer somewhere else
And it's February here
It's February here

It bubbles up from deep inside of me
And the trouble is just getting you to see
That I want
To know what
It feels like
To love you.
I want
To see what
It looks like
Above you.

Falling back into this empty bedroom
I draw the shades down tight
I'm feeling cramped, I think I need more headroom
I'll take a walk outside

There's something about watching the snowflakes dancing
And floating in the wind
It helps a lonely man forget he's part of
Another February here
It's always February here

There's so much of me I know I could let go
Pretty soon the only question that I'll know
Is I want
To know what
It feels like
To love you
I want
To see what
It looks like
Above you


Thank you for reading. Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you be interested in donating to help make the album possible! Over $3,000 has been raised, and there's a long way to go to make it really happen!

Best,
John
www.myspace.com/johnschmitt

RE-POST: Amtrak April 1, 2007

Saw this from about 3 years ago, thought it was interesting. Amazing how you see yourself change, yet never notice.
_______________________________________________

"I'm writing you on the train today
Speckled rain drops wipe the grime off the window
I draw the shades because the daylight does not feel so redeeming
I listen to songs that make my head swirl
And with chord progressions take me to the heights of human awareness

There is no set time for my return, as there usually is
I will have to brave most of the summer in South Brooklyn
I've never felt more 'in my body' than recently
I feel and cherish every hair, scab, iris
Your writing speaks to me, or through me
My mind need not filter it as I would normally do

You speak of the real me, my naivety and half-attempt at wisdom
I feel tormented by things bigger than me
I feel blessed at the same time, if that makes sense
And every new song that enters me today
Makes me want to show everyone so many things
I desire to be loved, I tell myself repeatedly
I want love in my life

I write words for what will be my opus
"Be content in who you are /
Be content that your might not necessarily go far /
But you'll try anyway"
Am I the only one who realizes what that means?

Everyone sleeps on the train.
We always sleep on the way home.

I want to write Freedom
To scream at the tops of the highest,
Most spectacular places
To proclaim it, and live it
Freedom in its purest form
In its truest form
I want to stand above everyone
Look down, see the Free
And love them.

"All the sights of Paris / Pale inside your iris"
Rufus Wainwright.
The head swirls again.
It has been so long since I have felt what true love is

I hear you speak of your worries of finding a man
And it seems unreasonably pessimistic
Because you are the Beacon
You give me hope
That there is another kind soul
Walking around the other side of the island
And when we cross paths
It is good. It is very good.
And I haven't needed to think very much past that level.

Please do not feel anxious anymore
You are worthy of everything you want
And I feel it being drawn to you.

This week, Easter
I had wished to be at a better place with God by now
Palm Sunday, the Passion read at Mass
The party favors we get to take home and hang up
Remind us we have a part in the nails and wood
I want to feel close to God again,
And I was just a short time ago.
I can be close to God
And I hope Easter can bring me into His favor
I would love to share Easter with you
Let me know if you are interested

I haven't been able to bare myself to anyone in so long
And it fucked me up at the time
But you are always so kind, so understanding
And you accept me unequivocally
I don't feel embarrassed to say
I am a Man of God
Or that I get scared of so much
It never shakes you from my corner
Thank you.

Sending thoughts somewhere south of Syracuse"

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 2: "The Stone"

There is a cluster of songs on the record about the same person. "Ophelia" and "The Stone", along with "Two Souls Meet in the City" all speak about a particular relationship, and the various aspects of it, and its demise.

I believe as songwriters we are meant to amplify the truth, and make the highs higher, the lows lower, and turn up the intensity. To that end, I tried to take a very real, yet not intensely dramatic event from my life and try to make it more universal.

"The Stone" is based on a poem I scratched out while on a train to Providence, RI to play a show, called "June 1st."

For once
And just this once
I socked you between the eyes
You always could blow me back
But my Honesty
And my Heart,
in an attempt to set the record straight
And get back on its feet again,
Let you have it.

You've made me teased in love
I'm even wondering if you count on the list.

I hadn't heard from her in over a week, and decided enough was enough. So I scribbled out a decently long email to her, saying she could not treat me with such disregard, and how I would not stand for it. I acknowledged that I am a bit of a pushover, but that I could no longer be trampled on anymore. I was angry, and I've never really showed that to her before.

I thought about how I would act in relationships: I would be totally submissive and willing to put up with or deal with anything a woman throws at me. If she ignores me, I worry and am crippled with anxiety. I try to be as selfless as possible, and focus all my energy on catering (and sometimes pandering) to her every need. Ultimately, it's not fair, and an unhealthy dynamic starts to form. This is what happened here.

Her response was quite trite, but quite sorry. She did not really know what to say. But she knew she would most likely hear something from me about her not being in touch. She knew I wouldn't take much more. I had caught her off guard; socked her right between the eyes with my words. For once.

So I realize this is fairly uneventful story, but that's the reality through which "The Stone" came from. It's the idea of an intimidating, "tall" figure, who dominates a relationship by her intellect, beauty, and by the control she is given by the other person. And the "small" figure, who never knew he could stand up to her, throwing that million dollar shot. David and Goliath would be the perfect imagery for what I was getting at.

So a few of the points in the song worth mentioning:

"My Beautiful, beautiful Goliath" My only concern was that referring to someone as "my beautiful Goliath" would seem ridiculous, and take away from the intensity of the song. After asking around, people enjoyed that image, because it showed her might and her aesthetic beauty all at once, so I left it in.

"She said 'Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose' " While she never said this explicitly, I think it points to how those given power by another have the tendency to feel spoiled by it, the way a child who just became a king or queen might react to losing in a game.

"And you fall (and I fall apart watching you fall apart)" To write what I did, although it seems quite trivial in this posting, was torture for me. So it was like the destruction of two people at once. Mutually-assured destruction, for she and I.

Here's the lyrics to "The Stone:

[I am David
And I am practicing my sling
And you know this, you showed it...]

A similar scene is taking over me
When you step into the room, I bow down
You look around, you look around
And see everything you want is what you've found
And I am at a loss

'Cause I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, and you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, beautiful Goliath

She said "Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose"
"And with the way this is going, baby, why must you make me choose?"
In that space between fantasy and faith
I came back, and started making my way
To where I step into this battleground with you

I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, oh...

And my words hit you like a Stone
And my words hit you like a Stone
My words
Hit you
Like a stone
And you fall, you fall, you fall

Oh I
Did arrive
Ready to fight this time.

You fall (And I fall apart watching you fall apart)

The song is my "hardest" to date, and we're still working on how we should record it. The discussion is centered on how this song could live on an album with less aggressive songs. But I am positive it can, and think it tells an important story.

Thanks for reading, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute to making this record happen! Another preview tomorrow!!
John

MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 1: "Ophelia"

In a few short weeks, I will be taking on my most lofty project to date in my music career. My new album is a culmination of the past three years of life in New York City, and needs to be a very large step forward on the path to success. At least, that is the hope.

The whole album, to me, is about hope. Clinging to hope when you feel you have no one, or you are hurt by someone (or by yourself), and about redemption. It's a bit darker in tone than my earlier work, but I think it's more honest to who I am. I have a dark sense of humor, and often portray optimism outwardly as a means of never showing vulnerability. When actually, I am sometimes a real mess with anxiety and negativity.

There is no title for the album yet, as I'm going to wait until we're recording. But for now, each day I will write about a particular song, and give you the back story behind it as best I can.

If you are so inclined to donate towards making my album possible, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com and it is very easy to make a contribution. Anything you give is humbly accepted and beyond appreciated, and I will make good on even the slightest show of generosity.

So, here goes:

ALBUM PREVIEW - "OPHELIA"

"Ophelia" as a song is a product of a relationship and friendship I had with someone a few years back here in NYC. I had been living here just a short time, and while playing a show to almost no one, she happened to walk in and stay for my set. Afterward, we hit it off, but she was incredibly striking to look at, and intimidatingly smart. Because of that, I resigned that I would try to become her friend, and no more. There is nothing wrong with that, after all.

Well months of very honest emails and meetings up and phone calls culminated in her kissing me. I never imagined it would have happened. It really hit me by surprise. However, I was still a college student in my mind, I was not ready to be with a woman. So, I think we both realized it could not happen, and that our whole "testing the fences of friendship" experiment were not good.

The problem though, and where this all gets messy, is I started to fall in love with her. And I was in love with the idea of what it could mean for me. And because she did not seek out my affections beyond a very, very good friendship, I felt rejected and torn up.

So "Ophelia" is a bit of an over-reaction on my part. It's a response that if I can't have your love, I choose to not have anything else of you. It's weighing what I need and what I want, and deciding that it is time to say goodbye.

It also is a complete and total homage to my favorite piece of theatrical literature, "Hamlet." I read Hamlet in high school, and am to this day fascinated by his choice to fake, or "feign", madness in order to create a protective wall around which he could accomplish his goals. I pulled several images from the play in the song, including:

"Hamlet feigns madness" - we as people, often act out of character when confronted with new love. We say and do things we might not otherwise, because we THINK that is what we ought to do. We pretend to be something we are not. I was incredibly guilty of this.

"Play these plays, say these parts" - much of our interactions with people we desire are choreographed, intricate, and rehearsed. We go to eat, we self-disclose, we even keep a mental tally of where things are in terms of intimacy. Each new "benchmark" (poor word choice, sorry!) marks a more serious commitment. But it's a play, no different than seeing someone perform, say, Shakespeare.

"Kings will kill kings, and marry their Queens" - so often I see people being able to go from one person to the next, burning the proverbial candle at both ends, and yet I never seem to know how that works. I feel often immature, slow, and incomplete at something that so many people are so "good" at. The cycle always continues, too: he loves her, then she loves someone else, then she dumps him and likes his friend, so on and so forth. It's cut-throat and vicious sometimes.

"So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide, and decided she'd try to walk on water" - this line is not rooted in reality, meaning it has nothing to do with my life experience. In fact, a friend recommended I talk some about Ophelia drowning herself in Hamlet after he breaks off his engagement and accidentally kills her father. To me, Ophelia doesn't mean to drown herself. It's her only way out. She's a coward and so very weak when it comes to love because she is a hopeless romantic, and believes in all it can become. I think it's to such an extreme that she knew if two people combined with the same desperation, she may kill Hamlet and drown him with her.
She needs to be alone thinking that she's walking on water. Everyone else sees she's drowning. Then, she realizes she is drowning and love is lost. She keeps walking.

Here are the lyrics to "Ophelia":

Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."

We play these plays, and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
As we dance through all these issues in the dark

Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."

I just can't take the stage and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
We dance through all these issues in the dark

Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
to be lost on me.

And so to my Ophelia, "adieu, love, adieu."
It echoes through my heart and lungs
"Adieu, love adieu"

Adieu, love, adieu, love love love love love

So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide
And decided she'd try to walk on water
Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
To be lost on me
Oh, you're lost on me.

So the song is pretty loaded. And rooted in my own life, just like the other songs on the album. It will have this amazing drum beat and beautiful acoustic guitar lines, and perhaps a fretless or upright bass.

Thanks for reading my album preview! Nine more to go! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute!

John

Getting Now Good

• There will be 10-12 new Celtic songs for all the upcoming Irish gigs. St. Patrick's Day is my favorite day of the year, not because of drinking. The music. I feel charged from forces greater than I with the responsibility of telling stories of all the men and women before me; to keep the ghosts alive for another year. The more I learn, the more I realize how heavy that responsibility really is.
• With three clicks of a mouse...POOF! There goes $1200. But it's nice to pay debt. And nice to feel like you start at 0, instead of -1200.
• This week has been a rebirth in many ways for me musically. I love playing, love singing, and am not panicking about my career. In time.
• The new song I wrote I believe is my most honest and best work to-date. I say that without hesitation, either.
• I decided how I am going to end my album, in terms of the very last thing the listener hears. I think it's appropriate given my upbringing and my family.
• The Sabres have lost 6 in a row. Which is precisely when I started to watch them. It's so frustrating seeing them crumble, seeing the management do nothing to make the team better. I pay $30 a month to watch the games, and it's not a pretty sight anymore. They are now in 2nd place, after having an 11-point lead on Ottawa just a short time ago.
• I miss my family. I'm excited to be coming home in a few weeks and see them.
  

Human Communication is Hysterical

"Good morning, Benefits, this is John"

::audible music in the background::

(Very effeminate voice) "Good morning! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well. May I ask who is calling?"

"This is Anthony, calling from Bantu!"

"Oh yes, Anthony, I believe we spoke yesterday."

"I.....I don't think so?"

"You're calling about Portals, right?"

"Yes!"

"Yes, I spoke to you yesterday. You hung up on me."

::long pause, at least 5 seconds.::

"Uh, I wasn't supposed to call you back. Sorry."

::phone hangs up abruptly::

A Man I Barely Knew (who is no more)

There was a doctor from eastern Europe who had developed a rare form of leukemia. His daughter, very young, had also developed leukemia at the same time as him. Here in the US, the doctor had a job working for a credit card company, and was married.

About 5 months ago, I was scheduled to go to play a hospital in Manhattan as part of the Musicians-on-Call Program. I volunteer about once a month on average for one evening, and spend the time walking room-to-room with Social Workers, playing songs for the patients in the oncology ward. It has been a tremendously rewarding experience, and particularly at this hospital, I have had a special bond with the folks that work there. They are all professional, kind people who take great pride in the quality of work they perform.

So, back to 5 months ago. I arrive, and the entire program was just as the other programs had gone: playing songs for people, seeing eyes well up, seeing families smile and sing along, dressing in and out of gowns, putting on gloves and face masks, and all the while singing fervently and with a passion. I connect better there than on any stage; music and its power is never more apparent than right there. But this night was not eventful, per se, from the other nights I spend there. They are all moving experiences.

On this particular night, one of the social workers that I did not know particularly well, asked me to make a special trip down to visit the doctor. He had been checked into the RCU (the Respiratory Intensive Care Unit), and was suffering greatly from his treatment and his cancer. The Social Worker asked that I just play a song because he would really enjoy it. No problem.

So we head down to floor 8, which is not where we normally go, and go into the doctors room. He was alone, it was about 7pm or so, and he was laying on his back, with his foot elevated. His leg had deep carvings out of it, most likely where surgery had been performed. He was not able to speak, or open his mouth, due to a feeding tube, and he could only make small moanings and slightly shift his head and face.

The Social Worker then gave me the go ahead, and I played the Beatles song, "In My Life." Particularly, I chose it because I thought he would know the Beatles, being from eastern Europe, and that song seems to be very sentimental. I've played it thousands of times, and so it was no problem. The performance itself, to me, was uneventful, as I played it how I always have. When I finished, his reaction was one of gratitude: he attempted to make eye contact with me, he moaned a bit, and he shifted his face towards the social worker with an urgent sense of appreciation. He wanted her to know he was thankful we came down.

The Social Worker and I then returned up to the 10th and 11th floors, where I played for a few more patients in their rooms, and eventually went home to Brooklyn.



I had not given that whole incidence any further thought until this morning. I was asked to perform at a board meeting for that hospital, as a special guest for a presentation regarding the Musicians-on-Call Program. In particular, this Board decides the funding for programs that the Social Workers have in place to support the patients and their families of the hospital.

The Social Worker I worked with 5 months ago was presenting, and she first talked about the Program, and how it came about, and what it does, and the power of music to help ease anxiety, loneliness, and boredom. She then brought up a case study. It was about the doctor.

She told the Board the doctor's demographic information, and then talked then about how I performed "In My Life" by the Beatles, and how apparent it was that the patient enjoyed the music.

She then went on to say that the patient died a day before his birthday, just a few months ago, succumbing to his illness. His wife made a point to share with the Social Worker just how much that one musical performance I gave meant to him, and how deeply it touched him.

She then asked me to play "In My Life" for the Board members, which I did.

"There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more"

They all politely clapped, and the Social Workers present said they were moved to tears, but really, it was I who was moved. I never knew I touched that man's life, someone I barely knew, who is no more. I guess you just never know what affect you can have when you're doing something good. It may seem monotonous and routine (as playing cover songs usually feels to me), but the beauty of music as a medium can transform you. If you have an open heart, it can work wonders.

So I write this not out of personal gain. I don't want praise from anyone for my volunteer work. And I don't want any sort of points from it on any level. What I do want to share is what it feels like to be an instrument of peace. That ordinary people like you, and certainly like me, can carry such weight with them just by using their talents to help others. And in some cases, they can make an impacting difference. But you have to get busy.


So, to the doctor, a man I barely knew, who is no more, it was a real pleasure of my life to perform for you. And I hope you are pain-free, wherever you might be.

A Dirge and a Requiem for Formative Years

Here's the music to the new song. I wrote it humming at work on my lunch break, and it seemingly came out of nowhere.

I set out writing about a particular person, and about a particular thing I'm thinking of doing. This song, a more honest and accurate depiction of my position on it, came out.

It's just... honest. And sincere. And the fact that I've been able to finally use such morbid images and church-like phrasing and chords, is important to me.

Have you ever felt a part of you has died? The cause could be anything, and does not necessarily need to be bad. In my case, there's an end to an era I've held onto for so long; my formative years.

Also, what is worth risking for love? Your biggest dreams? Would moving somewhere other than NYC be a sign of defeat? Just so you can love someone? I struggle with these things lately.

I arrived at a point where I know my heart is speaking to my head. It wouldn't work. I'd hate myself for not being in New York, and I'd find a way to dismantle any sort of relationship I have. So, I would rather risk keeping myself single, and hope someday she is still single, and move when it seems more opportunistic.

I will end my days in Buffalo; I will be "dearly departed from the land that I started". I hope to, at least, but it's just not right yet. Timing is everything.


I am not posting audio of the song, because I want people to hear it on the album. If you see me live, I'll do it then, too. But otherwise, no.

Done :)

My thoughts are so heavy
My intentions so pure
That I can't even stand
When she enters the door
It's like the Queen is in session
And all I can do
Is sing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."

She can give life so freely
To be honest and brave
They'll be counting for decades
The lives that she saved
I will fore go the distance
And the walls in between
My sights are now setting
On courting the Queen

CH: So I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches the pipe dreams pass away

I had dreams I would move here
And take it by storm
To return all victorious
to the land I was born
And when I'm dearly departed
in the land that I started
The Queen and her subjects would mourn

CH: But I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches his pipe dreams pass away.

BRIDGE: So I will stand here and wait
For the one who is always late

I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."

I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."

Bookends

"Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago, it must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left of you"
-Bookends, Simon & Garfunkel

A time of innocence.
Of learning.
Of becoming aware.
That's 2009 for me.

A year that saw me push my music career along
Saw me commit to living well
Saw me grasp Adulthood,
Put both my hands on Her rosy cheeks
And say, "Yes."
The countless shows played,
Well over 100,
Probably close to 200.

Preserve your memories
They're all that's left of you.
It's literally all that I have
Worth living for.
I'm storing up this thing called Experience
In the hopes that it guides me straighter
Along the path.
How tragic is the forgotten artist
How woeful a lot to be left behind.
The photograph and resume cast aside
And the little children scamper forward
Not missing a beat.

A close look at a not-so-distant photograph
::a silent beat::
Then drawing nearer to the eyes,
"Wooooooow."

RE-POST: Kings will Kill Kings, and Marry their Queens

Needed to re-post this, as it really highlights some things about me now. Enjoy.

My stomach is finally settled. BURP. I drank too much; I got sick on Saturday night. But that's neither here nor there...

Friday was reminiscent of how my days were a few months ago. Jay was home working and seeing his family, Vinny was out to dinner with someone, and Elliot was working I believe, so I had the house to myself. I remember how I used to have that every night when Ryan still lived with us, and at first I cherished it, but it began to weigh on me.

Well, I welcomed the solitude for once. I was invited out to see Maria and Carolyn, but I was already down to boxers and a t-shirt, eating some chicken and watching baseball when she called. Another time for sure.

My time alone was wonderful, watching baseball and studying the game as usual. No other sport can attract both casual fans and "student" fans. I'm a student, and I love to see stats, match-ups, tension, and drama play out on the field. The Yankees lost 2-0 on Friday night to the Mets, and although they lost, it was great to see an entire game. That's the beauty about baseball. The Yankees lose to their cross-town rivals, and everyone just says, "eh, get em next time" and heads home. There are no tears, no screams, no boos, just a feeling that it's a long season, and sometimes you take your lumps, sometimes you give the lumps. It's a great way to view life. Every loss is not a cause for concern, unless the losses start piling up. Every win isn't meant to be jubilant, unless the wins start piling up. Then, in the end, the sum of our consistent efforts is what translates into victory or defeat. The way school works, with all the quizzes, papers, tests, projects, and so on. The way a marathon works, one foot in front of the other, 25+ miles.

After the game, I decided I would go lay down for the night, with it still early, because I knew full well that tomorrow would be a long day. When I sat in bed, I accidentally click on my blog when trying to log into myspace or something, and my last post came up. I read through it, and had an almost out-of-body experience. Often times I will re-read words or lines I have written, and they almost seem to be from the mind of someone else. I never quite know why my soul chooses the words that it does, and I think when I am in a logical, normal mode, like right now, my mind is speaking. But, when I wash away all the muck, and let the soul speak, I see and read things I wasn't sure I was capable of articulating.

For example, I wrote, in reference to my feelings of loss and being let down: "Hamlet to Ophelia: Adieu, adieu." In context, it made perfect sense. Hamlet is the most compelling and intriguing character I have ever encountered in literature. The stakes for him could not be higher - a recently dead father-king, an uncle marrying a recently-widowed mother-queen, and a ghost commanding him to "avenge me." He is betrothed to Ophelia, daughter to Polonius, a court advisor. Hamlet suspects his uncle has killed his father, and then charmed his mother in order to become king. He feigns madness (if you ask me), and casts aside all others in his attempt to get revenge.

Hamlet's relationship with Ophelia is one that particularly always interested me. While pretending to be insane, he pushes her away; he calls her names, shoves her, and makes her incredibly uncomfortable. Then, after an unfortunate accident, he accidentally kills Polonius, her father. Ophelia then goes insane from this, and kills herself out of grief. She lost everything, including herself. Hamlet pushed her away, on purpose; he removed her from his love and affections.

Looking at things from Hamlet's perspective, there were so very many factors that were weighing on him. He had the immense grief of suddenly losing his father, coupled with the frightening and sobering request of the spirit to "avenge me." He had intense anger at his mother for not mourning her husband long enough, and quickly marrying his brother. He had recurring thoughts of suicide, which is where the "To be or not to be? That is the question." speech came from. His childhood friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, were trying to murder him, and his future father-in-law, Polonius, worked for his uncle and was a royal pain in his side. All this swirling around his head, his room, his life, his sleep, his soul.

And then there was Ophelia. The little flower that loved him. The one source of true love and concern in his life. His one opportunity to feel alive again, to feel something again. Hamlet becomes an animal before our eyes, and his one chance to turn back, if you ask me, was in staying with Ophelia. Hamlet slaved over this, until finally deciding he would end his times with her, as it oft made him lose focus on what he felt needed to be done. He called her a whore, screaming "Get thee to a nunnery!" and scared her sick. Polonius was trying to use her with him, and he realized it, and needed to cut her off.

Now, that is remarkable. Standing in the face of all that, Hamlet even turns away romantic love. Not even his heart is worth saving, and he shuts it down. That is where I can begin to relate. I have never lost someone so dear to me so suddenly, and my heart goes out to those who have. I can only speculate on what that must do to your feelings and mind and body. But I do know what it is like to deny someone your affections, despite your inner-workings wanting otherwise. I know what it is like to feel tricked by someone you loved, as Hamlet did with Ophelia, and feeling the wrath associated with it. It makes you a cold, calculating animal. You want to feel nothing, and you want to build a massive wall, so your bleeding stops and you keep any new information from getting in. You say adieu, not bon voyage. Adieu, out of frustration, longing, anger, and sobering clarity.

There is another facet to this I think. It is more a jealous feeling than anything. There are certain people who have a knack, not that much different than the way I have a *knack* for solving problems with electronics, for being in love. They go from one, to another, to another, to another, blowing through people, cherishing every moment, and getting drunk or high from whatever it is that love does to us. You know what I mean; this is not just some girl who finds her flavor-of-the-night when out, or a guy who hooks up all the time. I'm talking about the people who have 7 6-month relationships in a row, dating back to sophomore year in high school, or the ones that always are on the cusp of seeing someone new, because she seems so exotic, wild, or grounded and normal for once. I don't really understand it - is there a love receptor that they are especially biologically attuned to? Do they just get lucky that many times?

I have been in love twice in my life. For two distinct periods, no more than 14 months at a time. I have much to show from those two times, and I cherish them no matter how they worked out or ended. They are times I fall back on when I feel no love, and those people, ironically enough, are still a big part of my life. The love never leaves you, you know?

But what is frustrating is how so many people blow through others like Hamlet's mother. They mourn a relationship for a moment, and jump at the next thing that comes forward. Good for them, right? Way to get back on the horse, eh? Just because I haven't had that good fortune, doesn't mean I should get pissed at those who have, ya know?

Yeah I know, I get it. And I cannot just neatly put someone away and stop feeling. I cannot pour myself into someone new without living out the one before. It fucks me up too much. I doubt myself, my spirits, and who I am as a man before I can ever let someone new in. And I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around the people who can do that with new people. I admire you, and wish I had what you have. I get tastes of love every now and then, and I get all excited and anxious for it to take hold, and then I'm left there as the bus leaves. "Head in my hands, here I am standing in my bare feet / watching you drive away, watching you drive away."

Hamlet has shown me a way that I can deal. I have to turn to ice, to completely shut down. To guard myself ferociously until that hurt goes away. It feels like a caged animal, more a golden retriever, who wants to lick everyone's face, but can't get out of his pen. You say adieu, you must say adieu.

So love is lost on me, and maybe always will. I've yet to meet someone willing to give what I want to give, at the amount I do and expect. I wonder if there is such a person.

And in this very notion, I began to play my guitar in my room, and a song came out. Based on Hamlet, based on me, feeling the depth that comes from a soul speaking, not a mind. It felt GOOD. REALLY GOOD.

I went to bed on Friday feeling numb, but comforted in my new addition to my repertoire.

Saturday was good, with rehearsal, the show, good friends, and getting sick on the way home. We played excellently, and Zuppe came up to play bass with me, which meant so much. I felt respected by him; I felt I was part of the scene here. He's a tough sell, and he was itching to play on stage with me. It was wonderful. Maia Davies was wonderful, all the way from Quebec. I was so sorry I missed her show on Sunday too. But I suspect we will cross paths again soon.

Sunday was golf and relaxation, once I calmed down about playing terribly. But, my spirits were up and it was a nice day to hang out with Vinny and laugh. My friends make my life so beautiful, so wonderful, in their own way.

Wow, this is long. But I can go on and on about Shakespeare, most especially Hamlet. It feels good to articulate that all for myself, and for others it may ring true with as well.

Adieu.