Green pastures of mist and misery
Take us to the mountain bare and cold.
Lambs ask for everything without words
I sit and gaze at the same pile of stones
This is the shepherd phase and sheep are idiots
I pull those sheep over cliffs and I write tunes in my head
That will never be as good as they are in my head
And the pastures turn yellow corn joy fields
Let us sing a song for every dead person no one will remember
Let us praise the repetitive flowers.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Cento
I've written a cento before and posted on this blog and you can dig through and try to find it if you're really all that interested. It was made of ee cummings, Franz Wright, and Pablo Neruda. I'm too lazy to repost it.
A cento is a a poem pieced from other poems. Other people's poems only, I believe. The book I'm pulling these forms from says that someone made a cento about the life of Jesus and pulled all the lines out of Homer. I'd like to read that.
This time I decided to piece one from bits of Biblical Psalms i jotted down in my last journal. So, all the lines are from Psalms (though not necessarily David's) and I'm not sure which numbers... I sort of rearranged the phrases a bit. I used the NIV in case you want to find one of the lines...
HAND
Your hands made me and formed me
Do not utterly forsake me.
Though I constantly take my life in my hands
do not let my hopes be dashed.
Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge.
Give me understanding—
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
My eyes are fixed on you
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there, your hand will guide me.
the eyes of all who look to you
you give them their food at the proper time
you open your hand and satisfy the desires
of every living thing.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
some thoughts on songwriting and being a copycat
When the distant world (Metro Detroiters) started to hand me Regina Spektor examples, I stepped back a second. The first time I listened to her I was afraid of her because I knew I'd want to just copy what she does. So I listened to her for a little bit and then stepped off. About a month later I wrote a song that goes a little something like this:
"Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied with me? (x3)
Everything I do is outta love for you
Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied?
Honey honey honey honey honey why you comin home so late? (x3)
you hang your coat and then straight to the tv den
honey honey honey honey honey why you coming home?"
And so on for three more verses. The guitar for that song is repetative and simple and it's really just me playing around with my voice. Or playing a game: how many note patterns can I find with these words before I start to clash with the background picking and if I do let myself clash, then when happens?
Then I realized that I was copying Regina Spektor, even though I had barely listened to her. Then the thought crossed my mind, and this was totally liberating, "Who cares?"
I decided to just let myself be influenced. Not by the pop-whines I hear in Thai but by what I want to be influenced by and not care.
Once upon a time I played a song about the Redford theater in Lisa's garage and she said "Dan Kahn?" when I finished and I almost started crying. I thought I'd been ruined because she was right, it sounded like "Coney Island" but not as good and if he heard my Old Redford song he'd scoff at me. I didn't think about how Dan Kahn sometimes impersonates Tom Waits when he's playing. (Though it might be different when it's your friend's style you're macking off of..?)
So about three or five months ago or something, I decided not to care. I'd listen to Regina Spektor and people can compare me to her or not or whatever. They can say I sound like I'm trying to be Joan Baez and I'll live. Seriously folks, this fear has made me want to stop songwriting.
Where does this fear come from? Definitely from my place as a younger sibling. I'm not sure if my brother ever did yell at me to stop copying him, but I've never babysat for someone who had a younger sibling who didn't yell at the younger sibling to stop copying. It has always been a terrifying prospect to me, that I might copy Ian. I always told that older sibling to leave the younger one alone and to take the compliment.
I guess we'l never be able to copy someone directly. And we'll never be able to come out completely original. It's best to just listen to the tunes and while listening, absorb. Later on we might go back to our songs and say, "Sheesh, I was listening to a lot of Jolie Holland at that time," but we'll never admit that. Or maybe we will.
If we ever get big enough to have an audience and a reviewer, we'll have to expect comparisons. I think if I ever get interviewed and someone asks me who I think I sound like I'll just say a mix between my mom's voice and my dad's.
This is from a Regina Spektor Interview:
So I’m guessing when you sit down to write music, you don’t go to yourself “Ok I have to make sure I don’t sound like this”?
No, no, actually it’s almost the opposite, like “I want to sound like this.” Because I always loved learning to copy voices. Like when I listened to Ella Fitzgerald the first time I would sing for hours and hours until I would get certain intonations a certain way. Or when I did Piaf I would try to get the accent the right way or I would listen to Patsy Kline and I would try to get a certain yodeler thing in my throat. I love finding stuff that people can do and trying to find it in my own vocal chords…like within my body. But it’s not like “I’m gonna write a song in the style of…”
But you can pull little things from other people. I was just talking about this with someone last night. It’s like being little thieves…but thieves of like, putting out feelers, like every time you watch a movie or look at people have a conversation—you’re just like stealing little specimens to use later. But you are an honorable thief and that’s the world of it, and other people are doing it and you see them and have a little nod with them, and it’s good. I guess thieving is the wrong word but it’s just filling yourself up with it all—consuming it.
"Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied with me? (x3)
Everything I do is outta love for you
Darlin darlin darlin darlin darlin are you satisfied?
Honey honey honey honey honey why you comin home so late? (x3)
you hang your coat and then straight to the tv den
honey honey honey honey honey why you coming home?"
And so on for three more verses. The guitar for that song is repetative and simple and it's really just me playing around with my voice. Or playing a game: how many note patterns can I find with these words before I start to clash with the background picking and if I do let myself clash, then when happens?
Then I realized that I was copying Regina Spektor, even though I had barely listened to her. Then the thought crossed my mind, and this was totally liberating, "Who cares?"
I decided to just let myself be influenced. Not by the pop-whines I hear in Thai but by what I want to be influenced by and not care.
Once upon a time I played a song about the Redford theater in Lisa's garage and she said "Dan Kahn?" when I finished and I almost started crying. I thought I'd been ruined because she was right, it sounded like "Coney Island" but not as good and if he heard my Old Redford song he'd scoff at me. I didn't think about how Dan Kahn sometimes impersonates Tom Waits when he's playing. (Though it might be different when it's your friend's style you're macking off of..?)
So about three or five months ago or something, I decided not to care. I'd listen to Regina Spektor and people can compare me to her or not or whatever. They can say I sound like I'm trying to be Joan Baez and I'll live. Seriously folks, this fear has made me want to stop songwriting.
Where does this fear come from? Definitely from my place as a younger sibling. I'm not sure if my brother ever did yell at me to stop copying him, but I've never babysat for someone who had a younger sibling who didn't yell at the younger sibling to stop copying. It has always been a terrifying prospect to me, that I might copy Ian. I always told that older sibling to leave the younger one alone and to take the compliment.
I guess we'l never be able to copy someone directly. And we'll never be able to come out completely original. It's best to just listen to the tunes and while listening, absorb. Later on we might go back to our songs and say, "Sheesh, I was listening to a lot of Jolie Holland at that time," but we'll never admit that. Or maybe we will.
If we ever get big enough to have an audience and a reviewer, we'll have to expect comparisons. I think if I ever get interviewed and someone asks me who I think I sound like I'll just say a mix between my mom's voice and my dad's.
This is from a Regina Spektor Interview:
So I’m guessing when you sit down to write music, you don’t go to yourself “Ok I have to make sure I don’t sound like this”?
No, no, actually it’s almost the opposite, like “I want to sound like this.” Because I always loved learning to copy voices. Like when I listened to Ella Fitzgerald the first time I would sing for hours and hours until I would get certain intonations a certain way. Or when I did Piaf I would try to get the accent the right way or I would listen to Patsy Kline and I would try to get a certain yodeler thing in my throat. I love finding stuff that people can do and trying to find it in my own vocal chords…like within my body. But it’s not like “I’m gonna write a song in the style of…”
But you can pull little things from other people. I was just talking about this with someone last night. It’s like being little thieves…but thieves of like, putting out feelers, like every time you watch a movie or look at people have a conversation—you’re just like stealing little specimens to use later. But you are an honorable thief and that’s the world of it, and other people are doing it and you see them and have a little nod with them, and it’s good. I guess thieving is the wrong word but it’s just filling yourself up with it all—consuming it.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
calligram
A poem that makes a shape
OH NO
I don’t
like Eve
I believe
I coulda
done bet
ter. yes
I belie
ve I cou
lda done
and we
‘d all be
there pa
in free
yes in
deed eat
in’ fruits
and prun
in’ trees
if I’da
seen th
at snake
I’da kn
own I’d
a give
n him the
world’s first
DEATH
I don’t
like Eve
I believe
I coulda
done bet
ter. yes
I belie
ve I cou
lda done
and we
‘d all be
there pa
in free
yes in
deed eat
in’ fruits
and prun
in’ trees
if I’da
seen th
at snake
I’da kn
own I’d
a give
n him the
world’s first
DEATH
